Sea (Love)Sick (on hold ish)

Chapter 17

"Shannon! Front and center!"
The small girl quickly rushed over to the Captain that needed her, a giant grin on her face. Red, of course, was not happy in the slightest. "What do you think you're doing?"
Shannon grinned even more as she looked down at her attire. It was windy that day, and she had stolen Red's coat whilst she was out. It was much too big for her, as it was down to about her feet, and the sleeves were quite baggy. "Oh, yknow, cleaned my room a bit, talked with some people, the usual-"
"Shannon, you- you.." Red struggled to find the word. She reached into a pocket of her pants and pulled out a piece of paper, with random folds and creases of time. She went down the list on the page, muttering the items as she went over them. "Scoundrel, rapscallion, no.." She said to herself. When she finally came to the word she was looking for, she smiled with both content and anger.
"Scallywag! You're a scallywag, you fuck!" She exclaimed, showing the paper to Shannon.

Scallywag: someone who creates mischief for amusement.

Shannon smirked and threw her shoulders back, causing the coat to fall to her elbows. Shannon was careful to not let it hit the floor as she took it off completely, and gingerly handed it back to its rightful owner. "Scallywag, hm? I like the sound of that.."
Red frustratingly put on her coat and put the note back with a huff.
Shannon enjoyed making Red angry, and many could argue that it was her favorite pass time. She was often called many sorts of things, like a sadist, which she was, or a devil, and now scallywag.
"If I catch you again with this on, it's the plank for you," Red said with a hard glare. Shannon couldn't help but laugh. "You love me too much. And besides, we don't even have a plank for me to walk on!"
Red had to use every fiber in her being to stop herself from punching the girl as she walked off, laughing. Those fibers also convinced her to take a nice long walk to blow off some steam.

~

Red walked with her hands in her pockets to the bar, though she made sure she could feel the outline of her handgun in her belt just in case. She decided not to wear her big red coat, as she had gotten too many looks. She wore a long cardigan instead, which still flowed behind her when she walked briskly. She only hoped that Shannon hadn't stolen it again.
When she walked in, a strong smell of alcohol hit her in the face, but she was able to bear through it. The looks she got were minimal to none, as her attire made her blend in almost completely. She took a seat at the bar counter, and gave a small nod to the bartender that greeted her. He was a tall, slender man, with cheekbones that could cut steel. His eyes were a piercing blue, but the dimness of the bar made them look pale and faded. "What can I get you?" He asked, his voice smooth and calm.
"I'll have a scotch," she said, stern and watchful. She was careful to watch the bartenders every move. Everything he touched, everything he put in her drink. But in the end, it was just scotch, with ice.
"You shouldn't come here." A man said who was next to her. She stole a glance, took a cautious sip of the drink and hesitated. Then, she spoke."I don't know what you mean."
"He'll be lookin' for you if he knows you're here." The man said, taking a sip of what appeared to be a cocktail, as it was a pink, thick mixture. The man wore a green vest and pants, a low hanging belt, and some brown shoes and a white undershirt. He had short blonde hair and his voice was rather high, but still groggy from his drinking. "Who, exactly?" Red asked, taking another cautious sip.
The man sighed. "A captain I know visits this bar every Saturday. Tomorrow he'll be here just after sundown." He paused to take another sip. "Who knows what he'll do to you if he catches another captain in his bar."
By now Red had completely forgotten to be cautious with her drink and didn't bother to look at it, taking another sip. She nodded to the man and finished, leaving her payment on the bill the bartender gave to her.
She was lucky she bumped into a certain first mate looking for her on her way home before she crashed into his arms.