“I-I didn’t s-steal it,” Mister Peg Leg choked, shaking with fear. “I j-just got to it first—”

Valentine grabbed him by the back of the head, slamming him against the table so hard that it shook. The crash echoed through the tavern, causing a few onlookers to flinch.

Valentine clicked his tongue. “But you knew I was looking for it.”

He yanked Mister Peg Leg up by the hair with one hand, his gun still pointed at his head with the other. “That’s the same thing as stealing to me, darling.”

“He’ll give it back! Won’t ya, captain?” Tattoo-Head stammered, looking desperately at Mister Peg Leg.

Blood now oozed from Mister Peg-Leg’s nose, dripping downwards until it was swallowed up by his bushy auburn beard.

“Yes, Archie dearest, you will give it back,” Valentine cooed, his grip on the back of the man’s head tightening. “For I’m afraid the consequences if you don’t will be… quite regrettable. I’m rather fond of these shoes, and it would upset me greatly if they got blood on them.”

His gaze flickered down to the pair of shiny, ink-black heels.

“If I kill you and ruin them,” he continued, “it would put me in an irritable mood. And I doubt anyone in this tavern would want to see that.”

Valentine’s lips curled into a venomous smile. “Though, I suppose it might make an interesting story to pass on to your descendants—granted you’re the one I let survive for the sole purpose of telling it.”

The onlookers cowered back, their faces pale and their shoulders trembling.

Valentine chuckled, digging the head of his gun harder still against Mister Peg-Leg’s temple. “So why don’t you make both our days a little easier and simply hand it over.”

Looking as if he was about to vomit, Mister Peg-Leg swallowed hard before reaching into his jacket. His hands shook as he fumbled for something, finally removing a worn, yellowed piece of parchment that was rolled up and tied with a ribbon.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Valentine plucked the parchment from Mister Peg Leg’s trembling grip. “And because I didn’t ruin my shoes today, I’m going to take my leave.”

A smile as icy as his gaze tugged at Valentine’s lips. “But if even one of you pulls a gun on me, I’ve instructed my crew waiting outside to slaughter you all.”

He lowered his gun and, unsurprisingly, no one moved a muscle.

Valentine clapped his hands together. “Oh, wonderful! That’s the spirit! You’re all doing an incredible job. Keep it up and everyone gets to live!”

He leaned forward, giving Mister Peg Leg an air kiss on either cheek.

“Now, sweet little Archie, let me make myself clear. If you ever steal from me again, I will cut off your head to use as a desk ornament, pluck out your eyes to stick in my cocktails, tan your skin and turn it into a coat just as ugly as the rest of you, and use that peg leg for toothpicks for the next ten years. Understood?”

Sniffling, Mister Peg Leg nodded his big, bearded head.

“Fantastic,” Valentine said, shamelessly hiking up his skirt as he slid his pistol back into the holster wrapped around a shockingly muscular thigh. “Well in that case, I’ll be going. Toodle-oo!”

Cas’ eyes went wide in awe. Valentine had just done the impossible—he’d managed to make the word “toodle-oo” sound threatening! Cas had no idea such a thing was even possible. The man had officially earned his respect.

As Valentine made his way towards the door, he stopped beside an actual barmaid. The girl froze, drinks rattling on the tray she held in her trembling hands.

She flinched as Valentine reached towards her, her eyes bugging out in terror. However, the fear in her gaze transformed into surprise when he simply snatched a glass of turquoise vodka from the tray.

“Later darlings, let’s hope we won’t be seeing each other again,” he called.

With that, Valentine tipped his head back, downing the glass in one go as he strode out the door.

The tavern remained dead silent for several long seconds, the captain’s terrifying presence lingering in the air. Then, at last, an audible sigh of relief rippled through the room.

“Gods,” Tattoo-Head said, still trembling. “That was utterly terri—What the hell are you doing?” His gaze landed on Cas as he bounded towards the door.

“I’m going after him,” Cas replied. “Duh.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Tattoo-Head gasped. “He’s a literal psychopath.”

“Yeah, and I’m an alleged nudist lunatic who’s currently wanted for multiple counts of indecent exposure. We’re two peas in a pod” he said, winking. “I’ll be fine.”

Cas bolted out the door, bursting back into the crowded streets. He squinted against the sudden rush of light, scanning his surroundings until his gaze finally locked on a figure disappearing around a corner. With a grin, Cas took off running, bounding, and swerving through swarms of humans until Valentine came back into view.

The fearsome captain still donned the barmaid disguise, his scarlet skirt whooshing as he walked. Cas made a mad dash towards him. Gods, was it hard to move with these flimsy human legs. Out of breath and dripping with sweat from every orifice, Cas finally reached him.

The mer-prince’s chest heaved as he matched Valentine’s long, graceful strides. “Hiya—”

“Don’t talk to me,” Valentine said flatly, blank-faced.

“Okay, rude,” Cas said, panting as he struggled to keep up with Valentine’s increasing pace. “C’mon, mister, just talk to me! I promise I’m a great conversationalist. All my friends tell me I’m so funny that I should start doing, like... comedy or something.”

Okay, yeah, so that was a blatant lie. No one had ever told Cas he should do comedy. Also, he didn’t have friends.

Luckily, he didn’t have to elaborate further on his non-existent social life due to the fact that Valentine had completely ignored him.

Cas’ eyes narrowed as he glanced around the bustling village. “Hey, didn’t you say your crew was waiting outside the tavern? How come I haven’t seen a single one of them?”

“The explanation is simple,” Valentine replied, acknowledging him at long last. “I lied.”

He cast a dark glance Cas’ way. “A tactic I figured you’d be quite familiar with, seeing as you’re my alleged ex-lover.”

Cas let out an awkward laugh. “Yeah… I might have, um… completely fabricated that.”

“Really.” Valentine said flatly. “I had no idea.”

“But I had a good reason for it!” Cas replied, jumping in front of the captain. “I wanted to find you because I need to join your crew!”

Valentine picked him up by the back of his burlap sack like a kitten, effortlessly dropping him to the side. “No. Absolutely not.”

Cas flashed him a crooked grin as Valentine strode past him, bounding after the captain. “You say that now—but that’s only because you’re unaware of my many great qualities.”

“On the contrary,” Valentine said. “From this brief conversation alone, I’ve already gathered that you have absolutely none whatsoever. Now goodbye—”

“Top seven reasons you should let me join your crew!” Cas began, jumping back in front of him and throwing out his arms dramatically. “Number seven, I’m super cute.”

“Debatable,” Valentine said with a roll of his eyes.

“Number six, I’m a great singer.”

Valentine let out a heavy sigh. “Gods, you’re actually going to recite the entirety of this idiotic list to me, aren’t you—”

“Number five, I know pretty much everything about the sea.”

“If only you exhibited the same level of expertise in shutting up.” Valentine shoved him out of the way, but Cas simply darted back in front of him.

“Number four, I know over fifty delicious recipes, all using kelp!”

Valentine cast him a long, dark glance. “You do realize I could just pull out my pistol and shoot you?”

“Number four—”

Valentine crossed his arms. “I am quite literally threatening to murder you if you don’t stop talking. Do you understand that?”

“Oh, I understand it,” Cas replied with a grin. “I just don’t care! Anyways, where was I? Oh right. Number four!” He patted the bag slung over his shoulder. “I own a single fabulous hat that I always carry on my person. I would be more than happy to donate it to you and your crew. You can’t all wear it at once, of course. But I imagine you could take turns. Maybe your crew could develop some kind of hat-sharing schedule? What do you say?”

“No.”

“Fine,” Cas said, shrugging. “Your loss. Okay, number three...”

“Oh Gods.” Valentine looked like he wanted to kill himself. Or Cas. Or maybe both. With his gaze still toeing the line between exhausted and murderous, Valentine removed a silver flask from his bodice.

“I’m an expert in sea shells.”

Valentine didn’t even bother to comment at this point, simply tilting his head back and downing the entirety of the flask’s contents.

“Number two, I know the waters of the Emerald Sea like the back of my hand. Which leads me to number one.”

Cas took a deep breath, coming in with the closer. “The most vital, important, and irresistible thing about me. The thing I guarantee will make you come crawling, practically begging me to join your crew, is because… I’m a…. drum roll, please… mer—”

“Captain! There you are!”

A rowdy pack of men swarmed Valentine. The first thought Cas had at the sight of them was… that these guys wore way too much leather. Everything was made of it, their thigh-high boots, unbuttoned vests, billowing jackets, and even the belts where pistols, cutlasses, and daggers dangled. Seemed the crew of the Scarlet Mamba took coordinated fashion quite seriously.

“Oh, thank the Gods,” Valentine said, turning his full attention to the newcomers and not bothering to cast Cas so much as a final glance.

“Did you get the map, sir?” asked a wiry man with circular glasses, his red hair sticking up around his head at odd angles.

Valentine smirked, holding up the roll of parchment between two fingers. “It was exactly as we thought. That peg-legged piece of shit found out we were looking for it and tried to take it for himself.”

The redhead’s expression hardened. “You don’t think he planned on selling it to Ceci—”

“Don’t say her name,” Valentine snapped. He sighed heavily, collecting himself. “But it's certainly a possibility. If she is trying to get involved, we can’t waste any time. We need to be out of this port and on the map’s trail by sunrise.”

The rest of his men nodded in agreement.

“You managed to sell the rest of our loot while I was dealing with the whole Archibald debacle, correct?” Valentine asked, arching a dark brow.

“Yes, sir!” the redhead replied, nodding eagerly. “Once we buy the last supplies needed for the journey, we’ll be good to go.”

“Perfect,” Valentine said. “I expect everything ready for immediate departure before dawn.”

Variations of, “Yes, sir” and, “Of course, Captain,” rippled through the group.

“Fantastic,” Valentine said, offering them a thin smile.

Said smile vanished as his gaze fell to Cas, whose head was currently poking up from the back of the group. “Oh, and make sure that one doesn’t follow us. Because if he does…”

His icy gaze locked with Cas’. “I’ll be unable to restrain myself and shoot him dead in broad daylight.”

And with that, the captain and crew of the Scarlet Mamba strode away.

So that had been a complete and utter failure.

However, as they vanished into the distance, a smile tugged at the corner of Cas’ lips.

Oh, he’d still be departing with Valentine’s crew tomorrow. Valentine just didn’t know it yet.

There were plenty of other ways to get onto a ship.

Cas would just have to resort to slightly more… unorthodox methods.