Capt. Sterling

"What?" Sterling looked at her. He blinked, his expression as if he were unfamiliar with her, as one he had never met before, his mind now flustered by the thought that Aurore had suddenly changed her mind. “Oh…safe…” he answered himself slowly. “Yes safe… I would not bring ye when I know things would not be safe. When Morgan sails I would leave ye here safe with yer brother… Mistress March and Sunfish, I would … provide lodging in the Port .. Even though they have never taken such opportunity. They sail with Andrew at all times. But certain expeditions one knows will prove to be too dangerous to bring ye with me. But I had ... thought...hoped..” he shook his head. "My apologies... I have been mistaken."

Sterling sat back up again. It would be easy for him to explain how the other members of her clan idolized her... and he would have told her just that but her lumping of "away" into the equation, suddenly chilled him to the bone. He removed the quilt from his legs and sat up, pulling the covering into place about his shoulders as he tried not to shiver. The more he thought how to explain the term "away" the more cold with fear he became and not the fire nor any amount of rugs could remedy his discomfort. "Chere... I.. I thought that, once we were wed .." he swallowed hard trying to form the words which he believed if he did not speak would no longer be in question. "I thought when it were safe, ye would sail with me... like Skittles... Mistress March does with her husband."

He closed his eyes, her touch tender with each stroke. "I could lay here forever with ye by my side," he sighed. He shifted slightly to look at her better. "I do not judge them Chere, they have every right to think as they do. They must hate me in fact, this foolish English man who has come to take their beloved away from them."

“Are the others gone, Chere?” Sterling whispered, good eye opening solely to glance across at Aurore. Covering was pushed back and he sat up, good hand coming to temple as slight groan was emitted. “They all ready think me the laughing stock of Jamaica, I suppose it does no harm to continue letting them believe as they will, especially since I most likely am... My head is spinning."

Cold air on wet flesh was more than enough to cause eyelids to flutter. “Ohhh…. God…” Sterling mumbled over awkward tongue. Aurore watched as first green eye opened than blind, both rolling upwards back into head briefly before closing again as head dipped forward, chin on chest. Childermass covered laugh as best he could as Burke leaned forward over Aurore’s shoulder and jerked betrothed’s head upward with fingers laced in long blond waves, proper wig already set to dry before the infant fire. Unsure of companions’ behaviour, Aurore frowned for an instant then reached to untie fine linen cravat resting upon silken ribbons.

you can say that again! status quo

insanity

mayhem

The Archangel

How about another clue?

Decisions, decisions... this or the Brandenburg coat... hmmm will just have to have both!

stuck

Carriage struggled desparately through muddied streets. Catching in deep slim, lurching forward to gain freedom only to be bogged down a little further along, vehicle almost resembled, in actions, the earlier antics of the now snoring figure within. Childermass sat patiently inside, several time adjusting footing as unconscious form rolled about carriage floor. Broach, unfortunately would be temporarily forgotten as coach finally slid to a halt, breaks and wheels fighting to adhere to slick surfaces outside the book seller's shop.

surrounding

passion

Police box

Sterling yawned then struggled up from his chair. "Aye... mustn't not make Ma'zelle frit...fret.." He rubbed his eyes and yawned again before he snatched up the empty bottle and followed Childermass to the door. He chuckled to himself..."See tis whom following whom!" He remarked with a twisted smirk. He caught his toe on an invisible snag in the floor boards, tripped and staggered forward, empty bottle tumbling to the floor but without the necessary force to cause further damage. Sterling finally steadied himself and turned to watch as the bottle, spinning in a circle, finally slowed to a rest. Then he sighed and yawned once more, looked about trying to remember where he was, saw Childermass lurking in the doorway and stumbled after the other man. As they exited the inn, he tried to reason with himself that he was indeed not drunk just worn, the port not helping by make him too relaxed. He began to walk past the coach, felt Childermass's stiff fingers upon his shoulders. Turning him about, he pivoted once again to face the open carriage door. After several tries, blaming his bad eye and the late afternoon gloom, he finally made foot contact with lower coach step, heaved himself up to the next one then, passing out, he pitched forward onto the carriage floor.

TARDIS

Sterling placed the once again empty glass upon the table. "By God I am tired, but I must say my side does fell so much better," he mumbled as he tipped the now equally empty bottle trying for one more refill. He looked up at Childermass. "Go? Go where?" he asked, then raised the empty bottle turning his gaze toward the barman.

Time machine

"Ah, I see," Sterling said, slightly slurring his words. "Keep this up I'll sound like old Regge," he chuckled, then turned all solemn. "Mustn't make fun of the dead, Cate would box mine ears." He poured himself another glass then looked across at Childermass. "Beg pardon. Whas not in yer line of work?"

Virginia Reel, its all the Captain knows...

Yes that's right, you already know... no cheaten!

"So what does she like, this lady of mine?" Sterling asked topping off Childermass's glass and then his own. "Surely there must ....be...one thing rare that she spoils herself with but only on special occassions? I saw a broach in one of the shops that I wish to pick up on our way back but for some reason, although I think she would not be disappointed with said object, I do not believe it is the best choice nor should be mine only one." He took another sip, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand leaving a purple stain upon his gray gloves.