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The Hawkins was a beautiful airship, although very few of those who flew upon it knew why it was given that name. Clarabelle's rumors stated that it was after someone Amelia knew, but like most of her gossip, this was unfounded. The true facts were that it was Amelia's main ship, the one used for battle and to transport prisoners. Airships cut down travel times by more than half, through their battles were much more dangerous. Minnie had never been on one before, and perhaps under any other circumstance, she would have been absolutely delighted to know she would be on one soon.

Alas, Amelia had been absolutely furious with what Minnie had done, and so what could have been a pleasant experience was now a miserable one. After the incredibly long and angry lecture Amelia had given her and Daisy, the prisoner, Mickey, had been handcuffed, and the foursome of friends were told to bring him to The Hawkins immediately. Sleep was not allowed until the ship was ready to depart and head towards Alcatraz. In days of old, that island was a prison for the deadliest criminals and guarded by the highest members of the military. In this rising age of piracy, it was now used to store those charged with piracy until their execution date came up.

All pirates were sentenced with execution.  There were no exceptions. Any attorneys assigned to their case could only help extend the delay of death by making other pirates turn on their comrades. Trials themselves were the biggest shams of all, because the words 'innocent until proven guilty' were never uttered, never even thought of, and usually took less than ten minutes, if it was a busy day.

It was three in the morning – or two? Or four? Minnie had lost track of time ever since they left the museum -  when Minnie was leading Mickey through the lowest level of the Hawkins, which contained the prisoner cells. They could have fit over twenty men, but they couldn't just up and wait for nineteen more men to fill them up. Minnie stopped Mickey in front of a big cell, with plenty of walking room, and looked rather clean for keeping bad men in. After making a quiet yawn, she left go of his arm, and began digging in his pockets and belt, extracting all possible dangerous weapons from him. Aside from his sword and pistol, she managed to find a few small daggers and extra bullets. He had been silent this entire time, until she went to take the red yo-yo.

"Hey, hey!" His sudden speech so startled Minnie that she actually stopped in place. "Can't I at least have me yo-yo? I'm gunna be bored to tears in there."

She didn't answer him right away, instead choosing to inspect the toy up close. It was just a regular toy, no tricks that she could see. "I'll give it back… if you tell me why you were going after those diaries." It was still a mystery that none of the girls had been able to solve, as the other escaped pirates had made away with actual jewels and treasures.

"None a yer business." He wouldn't meet her eyes, choosing instead to look at his cell.

"How about the names and locations of your crew members?" Due to the mass confusion and many of Minnie's mistakes, he had been the only man they were able to capture out of the entire fiasco. "Or where your ship is docked?"

Now he did look at her, eyes narrowed, and in lieu of a reply, he stuck out his tongue, and blew a rather loud raspberry at her. She stared in shock, with spittle on her nose, because his reaction was completely against everything she knew and was told that pirates did. Pirates did not blow raspberries. They didn't play with toys, either, and, after rubbing her nose clean, she decided he wouldn't either. "Fine, then!"  After carefully placing all of his weapons away in a small wooden box, meant to be shipped away later, she grabbed a ring of keys off of a hook on the opposite wall. In swift, fluid motion, she unlocked the cell door, unlocked his handcuffs, and then took them off, shoved him hard inside of the cell, and then re-locked the cell door shut.

Mickey stumbled for a few steps, and then rubbed his freed wrists. "Big temper fer such a little lass." Settling himself against a wall, he watched her, lips mulling over how to get back what he wanted. "Listen, um…" he waved a hand, airily trying to recall her name. "Mina… Mimi…"

Minnie returned the keys to their hook. "My name is Private Minerva Mouse, and you will refer to me as such."

"Right, Mins." He ignored the whipped around glare she gave him. "What? Rather me call ye somethin' like… toots, sweet hips, turtledove?"

She stormed right up to his cell, almost grabbing the bars as insult ran throughout her tiny body. "Private Minerva Mouse! And you will stop staring at my hips this instant!"

"Not me fault yer wearin' a skirt, where are me eyes supposed ta go?" He pointed at the cloth in question, eyes lingering there, causing Minnie to tug down on it to try and cover more of her exposed legs. "Couldn't help but notice yer the only one sportin' it. Gotta mean yer proud to show 'em off." A pride he could understand, as shapely and pretty as such legs were.

"It's not a fashion statement, it's a symbol of rank!" Her voice became high pitched as more of her temper was lost. "It means I haven't become a fully ranked Private yet, I'm just a subordinate!"

Mickey's eyes blanked, such words not registering in his head. His brain took a few guesses as to what it could mean, until he found the most logical reasoning. "Aw, no… yer not tellin' me I got caught by a rookie?" The quiet between them answered him, and he groaned, slowly sliding down until he was sitting on his rear, defeated. "All the boys are probably laughin' their fool heads off…"

"Serves you right." She pulled back from the bars, a little bit of her own pride restored. "If you had just stuck with them instead of going to the eighth floor alone, you might have gotten away."

"Didn't think anyone would be up there, what with the boys distractin'…" he trailed off, realizing information was being leaked out of him. He promptly shut up, and pulled his head down lower on his head, partially covering his eyes.

Minnie would have tried to pull out more, when she heard footsteps from the stairs. Daisy was coming down, and calling out towards her. "Come on, Minnie! The Captain wants you to start your chores right away!"

With a small groan, Minnie returned the yell. "I'll be right up!" When Daisy's footsteps retreated, she took one more look into the cell. Mentally debating for a few seconds, she decided there was little harm in letting him have some entertainment before his execution. She slid the yo-yo in-between the bars, letting it bounce and roll until it came to its owner's side. Mickey's attention was caught, and he slowly took it into his hands, and he lifted his eyes to watch the girl go. His eyes went above her hips for once.

"Minnie, huh." He spoke to the silence, fitting the yo-yo's cord around his finger. "Spunky little lass."

~*~

Minnie's punishments were unending, but deserved as far as Amelia was concerned. Aside from kitchen duty, again, she was assigned to clean the latrines and the upper deck, sowing together old sails, making the beds of all the other girls on board, and along with a host of other chores, her skates were temporarily taken away, and whenever she wasn't doing her other chores or sleeping, she was to watch over Mickey. She felt the latter was the most insulting of all the punishments, for he was locked up, the bars couldn't be destroyed, and even if by some miracle he did get out, he would be in the sky surrounded by dozens of women trained to kick his butt. He was safer saying inside of that cell.

The trip to Alcatraz was around a month's time, so Minnie kept her complaints to a minimum. The first few days were exhausting, and she almost considered her hours guarding Mickey her breaks. She would stand outside of his cell, and he would play with his yo-yo, and most of the time they wouldn't look at each other, let alone talk. But on the fourth day he had, out of sheer boredom, asked what the weather was like outside. She replied that it was cool, perhaps a little chilly.  From then on, they would have little snippets of chatter, and although they were mundane topics, like what was going to be for dinner and what time it was, it served to humanize Mickey a little more day by day.

It was the end of the first week that Amelia allowed Minnie to finally look through her mail. Since all of Minnie's friends were in the NAVY, she only got letters from her family. This time, there were just two letters, and a small white box that easily fit in the palm of her hand. It was early afternoon, and mercifully, there were no chores needed doing just yet. So she decided to bring the letters and package with her as she went back down to the cells, giving a nod of greeting to Mickey before sitting down in front of his cell and opening the first letter, from her parents. Mickey returned the nod, simply rolling his yo-yo in and out into the air with the flick of a finger. Though the toy was small, its rolling made noticeable noise.

After a few lines into the letter, Minnie sighed, glancing behind hr to look at him. "Will you please stop that? I'm trying to read."

He continued flicking. "Whactha readin'?"

"What does it look like?" She held it up a little bit so he could see better in the dim lighting. "It's a letter."

"From who?" Flick, flick, flick.

"None of your business." She resumed reading, not noticing the returned rebuttal had made Mickey smile. He pocketed the toy, and crawled as close to the bars as he could, trying to read the letter over her shoulder. After reading another line in, Minnie noticed his shadow looming over him, and twisted to look at him, irritated. "I said it's none of your business!" She poked his nose through the bars and gave him a tiny push back.

Mickey sat on his knees, gripping the bars with his hands. "So yer mum's feelin' better?" With an agitated breath, she turned herself around fully, so that they were face to face, and he could no longer look over her shoulder. Mickey didn't mind terribly, continuing the conversation, curious again. "Good news, aint it?" Then why wasn't Minnie smiling or showing any signs of relief? Surely just his presence alone couldn't dampen something so good.

"Of course it's good news… but it's nothing new." Her eyes wouldn't meet him, though they weren't reading the letter either. "She's going to get sick again. She always does." She could feel his gaze on him, and cleared her throat. "She's sick… she's always been sick. She'll always be sick. Satisfied?" But when she did look at him, she was surprised not to see awkwardness or uncaring given to her. His expression was of sympathy, the kind she had seen whenever she talked to her girlfriends about her sickly mother. She had seen it so often in others that she could easily recognize it coming from him.

"M'sorry, turtledove." He mumbled, near quiet, and sat on his tail, unsettled with what he had taken from her. Normally she would snip at him for using that annoying nickname, but the fact that he was showing sympathy, and to her, floored her enough to keep her from snapping. Pirates weren't supposed to feel compassion for anyone but themselves. She actually felt more uncomfortable with him showing that kind of pity than of telling him about her personal life.

There was a desperate need to change the tension, and so Minnie quickly closed the letter, and grabbed the next one, flipping it open. "This one is from Mortimer." She even spoke rapidly, as if to shove the sympathy out of the air with sheer speed.

It did the trick, as Mickey's head was raised again, pulling the yo-yo back out to toss it between his hands, back and forth. "Mortimer? What kinda fool name is that?"

"Mortimer Rodawn." She explained as she read, thinking that someone named 'Mickey' had no right to complain about foolish names. "He's my fiancé."

The yo-yo dropped out of his hands with a silent 'thud' onto the floor. His eyes had widened, and it was his turn to be the truly shocked one. "Ye…" the words were difficult to come through. "Yer engaged?"

The tone in his voice got to her, and she met his astonishment with her own confusion. "Is it really so hard to believe I would be engaged?"

"N… No." There were tight-lipped buccaneers easier to get information out of easier than her with her personal life, yet it had never occurred to him that she had a man in her life outside of him. Not that he cared! Because he didn't, no sir. She could have all the men she wanted in her life. What did he care? He didn't! So there. "What's he want?"

Shrugging off his behavior, she read silently, though her eyebrows did quirk midway. "Oh."

"Oh, what?" Mickey repeated, picking his toy back up to play with.

"He sent me the ring." She placed the letter to a side, and picked up the small white box. It was a plain box, no decorations or designer labels to brag about. The inside was much the same, containing only white plush to hold the singular piece of gold jewelry. The ring contained only a tiny diamond that looked like it could have been the prize out of a cereal box. No inscription, no dazzle, just that jewel suck in and nothing more. Minnie lifted it out, and began to slide it over her gloved finger.

Mickey rubbed his eyes to make sure he was seeing right. "He… mailed the ring?" Even speaking it out loud only helped to strengthen how silly it was. "Aint it that the man is supposed ta be on one knee and all that romantic mush?"

"It's an arranged marriage, so he didn't need to propose." She closed the box.

"Thought ye lasses went all in fer the romantic mush." It just didn't sit right with him. "And my dog has sneezed shinier things than that itty bitty ring."

She began folding the letters carefully, trying to preserve them perfectly. "I don't need a big diamond or a proposal. The important thing is the marriage itself. Not every girl is obsessed with love and romance and weddings. Those things are so… trivial."

Mickey would never claim to be a wise master of all things womanly, but this was throwing everything he did know about women out the window. Either he had been wrong about girls all this time, or she was just the strangest one he had ever met. Opting for the latter, other words began to connect from what she had said. "So… ye don't even love this Morty?"

"Mortimer." She corrected, lifting a single finger to do so.

"Answer the question." He pouted at the refusal to do so.

"Why do you care?" She faced him, and crossed her arms right under her chest, feeling as if he was picking on her. Now that attitude was more like a pirate, wheedling and insulting anyone they wanted to, caring not for the feelings of others.

With an indignant look, Mickey copied her pose. "I don't care." She would never have guessed that the truth was sheer pettiness, concerning his questions. That, and he didn't care, of course not. Let her marry who she wanted! Let her love… or not love… aw, nuts to her! "Just seems silly, getting' hitched to a guy ye can't even stand…'spcially with such a fool name…"

"I can stand Mortimer! He's a wonderful person." She began to list off the reasons, showing a new finger to each one. "He's got plenty of money, he'll provide for me, he'll take care of me…" Which was just a roundabout way of rewording the same statement several times, but she didn't take Mickey smart enough to catch on. "And when we get married and I leave the N.A.V.Y., we'll live happily ever after." Maybe that last bit would make him stop talking about girls and their love of the romantic.

To her aggravation, he continued to yap and question, for with each fact she revealed about herself, there was a tiny hunger for even more. "Yer quittin' already? I knew yer a bit of a screw-up, but - "

"I am not a screw-up!"  The accusation so exasperated her that she stood up, glowering over him. "I just made a few mistakes, that's all! And I'm not quitting!"

"But ye said-"

"I know what I said!" She cut him off, and went right up to the bar cells to get a better yell towards him. "I said I'm leaving, not quitting! Mortimer wants me to leave when we get married! Do you understand, or is that not romantic or girly enough for you?" He just had so many ways of making her lose her temper, or in his opinion, she just had too many buttons to push to set it off.

He raised a hand like a boy in school. "Can I ask one more thing? Last one. Pirate's honor."

An oxymoron if she ever heard one.  With a heavy sigh, she rubbed her fingers between her eyes, hoping to stop the headache she knew was going to come. "Just one, and that's it."

He lowered his hand, and with all the sincerest interest he could muster, asked. "What do ye want?"

The power of those four words was enough to enable silence in those cells once more. They also carried a wind to extinguish her anger, and strength to lower her jerked up shoulders. Minnie had always firmly believed that sticks and stones, and high powered pistols, could break your bones, and words could never hurt you. It's why she was always able to recover from any insults she was given, and able to get over bad news when it was only spoken or written to her. Words weren't powerful, actions were. So why were these four so unusual and so powerful?

They had never been asked to her.

No, no, that couldn't be right. Her eyes moved around, as she searched her brain for a memory of that question. Yes, there were less significant times, like what did she want for breakfast, and what did she want to wear when on break, but this was clearly something greater. What did she want with her life and her future, that was the underline. An arranged marriage was a staple for the future, something already determined. Her parents had assumed Minnie would be happy with this, and for their sake, Minnie had let them think that. Her friends offered alternatives, but never actually asked this question. The ones she truly loved most in this world had never asked her what she wanted for her future.

The first time this question was given to her was by a law-breaking, childish, immature, annoying and out of his mind pirate. He actually wanted to know. The skill of those words made her arms drop to her sides, staring hard at him, lower lip quivering. Her throat felt dry, and there was a compelling cry within her to answer. "I… I want…" She had never been asked it, so she had never thought of it too greatly besides a typical complaint here and there. Despite all of her screw-ups in the N.A.V.Y., she still kept trying and worked her hardest. She had looked forward to her first pirate battle. She always trained hard and always practiced. She always did the chores given to her. Why?

"I want… to stay." Her voice shook to admit it. "I want to stay in the N.A.V.Y." She kept going forward for a future in the N.A.V.Y, that is why she did everything to the best of her ability, and why she took her duties so seriously. "I like… being here… I want to help people… My grandmother did this… and her mother, and her mother… I want to continue it…I want to help… I want to stay." She inhaled deeply, forcing her eyes to remain dry. When her eyes came up, she was surprised to see that Mickey had stood and was watching her intently. She hadn't even heard him move.

He hadn't intended to move or stand either, but her astonishment when he had asked the question hadn't been expected. He thought it was a simple question, and didn't understand the bombshell he had dropped until he heard her speak. It was at once both weak and strong, afraid to admit it but needing to say it. Something about this admission told him it was beyond the personal info he usually tried to dig out of her, and that it would be disrespectful not to stand for this. This was a family tradition that the girl was proud of, but in order to please her family, she would leave it behind. It was unfair, and in his view, ridiculous.

Strange, really… the girl that had been brave enough to fight him, and strong enough to tackle him down, was now looking as weak and heartbroken as a dumped kitten. He never really had a grudge against her, nor hated her, for she was doing her job in capturing him, it wasn't personal. His hands twitched, the toy pocketed. Right now, he wanted… it was madness, it was stupid, it made no sense… he wanted to hold her. Just give her a hug. She looked like she needed one, that was all, and he wanted to be the one to give it to her.

His arms shifted, but he couldn't bring himself to truly lift them. After all, they were separated by bars, and even if he tried, she'd probably slap him. She wouldn't want to be held by someone like him. Though, if she had trusted him enough to tell him what she truly wanted, then, maybe…

"Well!" She suddenly announced, straightened her body in a jerked motion, startling Mickey enough to freeze in place. "It is what it is." She had sought to defy the spell that had been cast over them, wanting to erase the weakness she had just shown. "I'm getting married and leaving the N.A.V.Y. That's all there is to it." Because what she wanted didn't really matter, not in the bigger picture, and it was foolish talk otherwise.

"W-wait, hey!" Now he gripped the bars, wanting to reach out and claim back the moment. "Then stay in the N.A.V.Y! Don't go and marry a guy who tells ye what ye can and can't do! What about yer folks? Can't ye tell 'em-"

"You said one question." She sat back down, with her back towards him. "I'm not answering anything else." She was terrified to answer anything else he had to ask. Hands on her knees, she put her eyes to the wall, telling herself that she would learn to want outside of the N.A.V.Y. life. Plenty of other women had done it when they left, so logically so should she.

Mickey, on the other hand, spat and sputtered at that defiance, and then banged his fists against the bars. "But! That's! Awwww, nuts to ye!" He turned his back to her as well, plopping right back down to sit. "Silly lasses, dunno what they want, marryin' guys with fool names, and…" Fine. What did he care? He didn't, you know. He absolutely did not care.

She didn't care what he thought either, mind you. Who would care what some stupid pirate thought? What business was her future to him? That would be the absolute last of her personal life she'd ever reveal to him. Not that she cared what he thought about her and her life. She did not, not one bit.

They sat there for a long time, absolutely not caring about the other in any way, shape, or form.

~*~

Minnie had short spans of sleep on the Hawkins, because 'lights out' was the only time her trio of friends could make their way to her assigned quarters to chat. Daisy would ask about Mickey, Clarabelle would fill Minnie in on the latest gossip, and Millie would just quietly give her two cents whenever she could get a word in. It was the night that Minnie had told Mickey about Mortimer that she proposed a question to her friends, sitting on her bed with her friends on the floor.

"What are you girls going to do after you get married?"

They looked at her, wondering where such a question had come from. Millicent's cheeks went apple red, and she laughed nervously, hands on her lap."W-why… you need to have a boyfriend to get married! And we don't have ones. I mean, well, Daisy does! Clarabelle doesn't… and neither do I. I-I do not. No." She grinned, breathing deeply through her nose.

Now they all looked at her and Daisy was the one to say what they were all thinking. "Okay, Millie, what's his name?"

Millie made a tiny 'eep' noise, trying to back up into a wall. "I-I don't know what you're talking about! There is no name, and no him, because I'm not dating anyone!" She shook her head hard, not aware of how bad of a liar she was.

Cow and duck rolled their eyes, and Daisy smirked as she continued speaking. "Well, aside from Millie's mystery guy… Clarabelle, I'm counting on you to find out…"

"On it." Clarabelle gave Daisy a quick high-five, despite Millie's whine of a whimper.

Daisy held up her hand, showing her own engagement ring. It was far more impressive than Minnie's for the diamond was nearly as big as her pupil, and there was even an inscription of her and Donald's name on it. "When Donald and I finally tie it, I'm going to start hosting the most fabulous parties… of course, you're all invited. McDuck has the loveliest ballrooms you've ever seen."

Clarabelle took over then, resting her head in her hands. "My prince charming better be coming along any day now! And when we're together, we'll open our own little boarding house. A sweet little bed and breakfast, so it'll be like having a million different kids of our own every month." Eyes went to Millie, but she was still far too flustered to give much of answer.

"You should just marry Horace and get it over with." Daisy reached behind her head to undo her ponytail, as Clarabelle gaped at her. "What? You two have been best friends forever - "

"I've been best friends forever with Millie too, but I'm not gunna walk down the aisle with her either." Clarabelle snorted, crossing her arms. "We've been over this, Horace and I are just friends. It would be… so strange to make it something else!"

Minnie knew exactly where this conversation was going, as it had been discussed a million times. Horace Horsecollar was a member of the A.R.M.Y, and had been a friend of Clarabelle and Millicent since their childhood, since they had all grown up in the same town together. He was a top mechanic, and more of a worker than a fighter. Countless times Daisy had suggested the two hook up, and each time Clarabelle had rebuked it harshly, with Millie weakly trying to mediate and Minnie trying to change the topic. A fight would escalate at this rate, so Minnie cleared her throat, trying to get attention back to her. "So are you girls going to stay in the N.A.V.Y. after you get married?"

It did the trick, as the trio looked back to her, incredulous. "Of course I am!" Clarabelle was the first to state it, lifting her head. "It's my life! I can't imagine doing anything else! Why would I stop just because I got – oof!" The burst of air came when Daisy ever so roughly jabbed her elbow into Clarabelle's ribs, trying to prevent dangerous territory from being tread on.

Daisy then straightened her posture, feigning innocence. "What she means, Minnie, is that the men we marry… they won't care as much as Mortimer does, the way he wants you out of harm's way." She forced a smile, and the other girls nodded accordingly, but Minnie saw right through the thin layering. Still, she appreciated the honesty beforehand and the effort now. "A year is a long time … he might change his mind."

"Thanks, Daisy." Minnie forced her own smile back, and was just as eager and sudden to switch topics again. "So, Millie, when do we get to meet him?"

The poodle shrieked and whined, as the girls began to bombard her with questions she refused to answer. As she continued denying, Minnie couldn't help but notice, in the course of the conversation, none of them asked what she wanted of her future, and of her marriage.

"I'm not seeing anyoooone, I sweaaaaar!"

~*~

The first few days of the second week were angrily awkward between prisoner and private, still upset over what had been admitted and what had been withheld. Their conversation went back to the mundane, until the third day, when silence had been ruling over once more. That afternoon, as Mickey was flicking his yo-yo side to side, he had suddenly started to sing.

"Well, come all ye jolly sailor boys who to the sea belong…" There wasn't much heart to it and it was more from boredom than anything else. "If ye'll listen ta me, I'll sing fer ye a song…" It still caught Minnie's attention, because it just seemed so out of place, to sing in a cell. "I've been as fine a seaman as ever furled a sail…"

Then it seemed even further away, when Minnie finished the stanza. "Until by lightning lost my sight in that last November gale." When Mickey raised his brow to her, she offered a one shoulder shrug. "The girls hear those kinds of songs all the time when they go for stealth missions. They tell them back to us. They're quite catchy."

Mickey clicked his tongue to his teeth, and tried for another lyric to see if the same would happen. "There was a wealthy merchant in the town where I was born - "

"I own, I loved his daughter and she loved me, I swear."  She leaned onto the wall, with less enthusiasm in her voice.

That wouldn't do at all, to Mickey. "Aw, c'mon, put some… 'oomph' into it. It's not a funeral."  He cleared his throat, trying to show her how it was done. "The press gang they came after me, and I was forced ta go, he sent me away ta plow the sea where stormy winds do blow!" His tone was merrier, and he even swung his arm like a conductor, trying to make her match his cheer.

Minnie put her head on one hand, lips pressed together. He was often very childish like this, a boy in a grown man's body. He was going to die in two weeks, and yet he found solace in singing a sea shanty. But then, it wasn't like she had anything better to do, and it was more favorable than doing chores. So when it was her turn, she tried putting more power to it, though didn't sing as loud as he was going. "On the fourteenth of November, from Cook's Harbour we set sail…"

"Louder!" he commanded, now conducting with two fingers, yo-yo still attached to one. "Like ye've just had yer first drink of the day!"

Putting aside the fact she didn't drink, she continued, though she would not go louder. "Bound down to Gibraltar, with a soothing, pleasant gale…" Though she did try to put more melody in it, an honest effort.

"That's more like it! Use those lungs!"

"The wind blew fair, our course did steer and back before the wind, but still my thoughts kept thinking on the girl I left behind…We arrived at Gibraltar and we lay ashore while there, and then bound for England the winds they did still blow fair… the very day we put to sea, set was every sail, when a storm came on, eclipsed the sun, and blew a fearsome gale." She was all ready and set to sing the next stanza, since it had seemed he had delegated the singing to her, but Mickey suddenly stood, strutting around his cell and taking over the performance.

"Strong winds still kept increasing up ta a hurricane, our skipper cried, 'Make haste, me boys, close reef our main topsail!'" For the part of the skipper, he had taken off his hat, and made his voice go purposefully squeakier, trying to imitate a boy much younger than he. The expression he was making to go along with the voice was so nonsensical, the voice itself was so crazy, that Minnie lost control of her body, and laughter erupted from her throat. Her hands were on her ribs, and no matter how hard she fought it down, it still spilled forth, uncontrollable. It wasn't her fault, how could anyone not laugh at that voice and that face? It was a good thing the other girls weren't around to see this.

Laughter is contagious, and so Mickey stopped the song to join in on the hearty good time. Her laughter was very cute, and it suited her very much. It was like running the fingers down a key of pianos, back and forth, melodious, a new burst with each one. He enjoyed the sound of it, and their laugher continued bounce off one another. The moment for tunes had passed, so once the laughter began to quiet and normal breathing was attained, he placed his hat back on, and turned to face her. The plan was to ask her if she knew any more songs, and possibly to try and make her laugh more, when something miraculous happened.

She smiled.

Smiles themselves were nothing miraculous, they happened all the time. While the song itself wasn't cheerful, the duo had been laughing, and it was impossible to laugh without smiling. He had seen hundreds of smiles in his lifetime, as he wanted the men on his crew to be happy.  He knew Minnie was capable, though never gave much thought to it. But when he saw her smile, he suddenly forgot all about those logical facts. They seemed vastly unimportant right now.

It was the single most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his entire life. Considering his life was made on stealing treasures and jewels and other beautiful things, he felt he was very qualified to think this of her. Perhaps it was the way her colorful eyes were lit up, or how it was perfectly symmetrical down to her tiny cheeks. It was more than that, but he couldn't pinpoint it into words. It was not just a smile, it was Minnie smiling. That was part of the beauty, though he still couldn't understand why it was so beautiful.

It was… It was just… just… Gosh! To look at her! To look at that! His legs felt weak, breathing became complicated, and thinking was a challenge. He knew feeling this was made no sense, but darn it all, he didn't care. He just wanted to keep looking at that smile, and felt he would do anything to make her keep smiling. This was beauty, this was life, this was fantastic, this was… he had to see it up close. There was no question about it, as his body felt a need harder than almost anything in his life. He just had to see it closer, see her closer, gosh, that smile, he needed it, had to be closer to her, had to, need to, her, that smile, gosh, oh, needed…

BONK!

The desire for that smile had somehow blocked out part of his vision and his common sense, as he had sprinted right into the cell bars. The speed, force, and pain was enough to land him flat on his back, hands on his head, howling in agony, kicking his legs in the air. "Awww! Who put those there?!"

Minnie's smile vanished, never having any idea of the sort of impact it made on him, as the entire course of his shock and desire lasted mere seconds. Once more, laughter escaped her, and this time, it was even harder. What a stupid pirate! Just what in the world had he been trying to do, escape? It was so dumb that she felt it was all right to laugh, and knew when she would inevitably tell her friends later, they would laugh as well.

As for Mickey, he was far too invested in his own pain to listen to her piano keys of laughter. It was all her fault! That darn, spunky, loony, beautifully smiling lass who he did not care one doubloon for!

End Of Chapter Two.

Description
The Hawkins was a beautiful airship, although very few of those who flew upon it knew why it was given that name. Clarabelle's rumors stated that it was after someone Amelia knew, but like most of her gossip, this was unfounded. The true facts were that it was Amelia's main ship, the one used for battle and to transport prisoners. Airships cut down travel times by more than half, through their battles were much more dangerous. Minnie had never been on one before, and perhaps under any other circumstance, she would have been absolutely delighted to know she would be on one soon.

Alas, Amelia had been absolutely furious with what Minnie had done, and so what could have been a pleasant experience was now a miserable one. After the incredibly long and angry lecture Amelia had given her and Daisy, the prisoner, Mickey, had been handcuffed, and the foursome of friends were told to bring him to The Hawkins immediately. Sleep was not allowed until the ship was ready to depart and head towards Alcatraz. In days of old, that island was a prison for the deadliest criminals and guarded by the highest members of the military. In this rising age of piracy, it was now used to store those charged with piracy until their execution date came up.

All pirates were sentenced with execution.  There were no exceptions. Any attorneys assigned to their case could only help extend the delay of death by making other pirates turn on their comrades. Trials themselves were the biggest shams of all, because the words 'innocent until proven guilty' were never uttered, never even thought of, and usually took less than ten minutes, if it was a busy day.

It was three in the morning – or two? Or four? Minnie had lost track of time ever since they left the museum -  when Minnie was leading Mickey through the lowest level of the Hawkins, which contained the prisoner cells. They could have fit over twenty men, but they couldn't just up and wait for nineteen more men to fill them up. Minnie stopped Mickey in front of a big cell, with plenty of walking room, and looked rather clean for keeping bad men in. After making a quiet yawn, she left go of his arm, and began digging in his pockets and belt, extracting all possible dangerous weapons from him. Aside from his sword and pistol, she managed to find a few small daggers and extra bullets. He had been silent this entire time, until she went to take the red yo-yo.

"Hey, hey!" His sudden speech so startled Minnie that she actually stopped in place. "Can't I at least have me yo-yo? I'm gunna be bored to tears in there."

She didn't answer him right away, instead choosing to inspect the toy up close. It was just a regular toy, no tricks that she could see. "I'll give it back… if you tell me why you were going after those diaries." It was still a mystery that none of the girls had been able to solve, as the other escaped pirates had made away with actual jewels and treasures.

"None a yer business." He wouldn't meet her eyes, choosing instead to look at his cell.

"How about the names and locations of your crew members?" Due to the mass confusion and many of Minnie's mistakes, he had been the only man they were able to capture out of the entire fiasco. "Or where your ship is docked?"

Now he did look at her, eyes narrowed, and in lieu of a reply, he stuck out his tongue, and blew a rather loud raspberry at her. She stared in shock, with spittle on her nose, because his reaction was completely against everything she knew and was told that pirates did. Pirates did not blow raspberries. They didn't play with toys, either, and, after rubbing her nose clean, she decided he wouldn't either. "Fine, then!"  After carefully placing all of his weapons away in a small wooden box, meant to be shipped away later, she grabbed a ring of keys off of a hook on the opposite wall. In swift, fluid motion, she unlocked the cell door, unlocked his handcuffs, and then took them off, shoved him hard inside of the cell, and then re-locked the cell door shut.

Mickey stumbled for a few steps, and then rubbed his freed wrists. "Big temper fer such a little lass." Settling himself against a wall, he watched her, lips mulling over how to get back what he wanted. "Listen, um…" he waved a hand, airily trying to recall her name. "Mina… Mimi…"

Minnie returned the keys to their hook. "My name is Private Minerva Mouse, and you will refer to me as such."

"Right, Mins." He ignored the whipped around glare she gave him. "What? Rather me call ye somethin' like… toots, sweet hips, turtledove?"

She stormed right up to his cell, almost grabbing the bars as insult ran throughout her tiny body. "Private Minerva Mouse! And you will stop staring at my hips this instant!"

"Not me fault yer wearin' a skirt, where are me eyes supposed ta go?" He pointed at the cloth in question, eyes lingering there, causing Minnie to tug down on it to try and cover more of her exposed legs. "Couldn't help but notice yer the only one sportin' it. Gotta mean yer proud to show 'em off." A pride he could understand, as shapely and pretty as such legs were.

"It's not a fashion statement, it's a symbol of rank!" Her voice became high pitched as more of her temper was lost. "It means I haven't become a fully ranked Private yet, I'm just a subordinate!"

Mickey's eyes blanked, such words not registering in his head. His brain took a few guesses as to what it could mean, until he found the most logical reasoning. "Aw, no… yer not tellin' me I got caught by a rookie?" The quiet between them answered him, and he groaned, slowly sliding down until he was sitting on his rear, defeated. "All the boys are probably laughin' their fool heads off…"

"Serves you right." She pulled back from the bars, a little bit of her own pride restored. "If you had just stuck with them instead of going to the eighth floor alone, you might have gotten away."

"Didn't think anyone would be up there, what with the boys distractin'…" he trailed off, realizing information was being leaked out of him. He promptly shut up, and pulled his head down lower on his head, partially covering his eyes.

Minnie would have tried to pull out more, when she heard footsteps from the stairs. Daisy was coming down, and calling out towards her. "Come on, Minnie! The Captain wants you to start your chores right away!"

With a small groan, Minnie returned the yell. "I'll be right up!" When Daisy's footsteps retreated, she took one more look into the cell. Mentally debating for a few seconds, she decided there was little harm in letting him have some entertainment before his execution. She slid the yo-yo in-between the bars, letting it bounce and roll until it came to its owner's side. Mickey's attention was caught, and he slowly took it into his hands, and he lifted his eyes to watch the girl go. His eyes went above her hips for once.

"Minnie, huh." He spoke to the silence, fitting the yo-yo's cord around his finger. "Spunky little lass."

~*~

Minnie's punishments were unending, but deserved as far as Amelia was concerned. Aside from kitchen duty, again, she was assigned to clean the latrines and the upper deck, sowing together old sails, making the beds of all the other girls on board, and along with a host of other chores, her skates were temporarily taken away, and whenever she wasn't doing her other chores or sleeping, she was to watch over Mickey. She felt the latter was the most insulting of all the punishments, for he was locked up, the bars couldn't be destroyed, and even if by some miracle he did get out, he would be in the sky surrounded by dozens of women trained to kick his butt. He was safer saying inside of that cell.

The trip to Alcatraz was around a month's time, so Minnie kept her complaints to a minimum. The first few days were exhausting, and she almost considered her hours guarding Mickey her breaks. She would stand outside of his cell, and he would play with his yo-yo, and most of the time they wouldn't look at each other, let alone talk. But on the fourth day he had, out of sheer boredom, asked what the weather was like outside. She replied that it was cool, perhaps a little chilly.  From then on, they would have little snippets of chatter, and although they were mundane topics, like what was going to be for dinner and what time it was, it served to humanize Mickey a little more day by day.

It was the end of the first week that Amelia allowed Minnie to finally look through her mail. Since all of Minnie's friends were in the NAVY, she only got letters from her family. This time, there were just two letters, and a small white box that easily fit in the palm of her hand. It was early afternoon, and mercifully, there were no chores needed doing just yet. So she decided to bring the letters and package with her as she went back down to the cells, giving a nod of greeting to Mickey before sitting down in front of his cell and opening the first letter, from her parents. Mickey returned the nod, simply rolling his yo-yo in and out into the air with the flick of a finger. Though the toy was small, its rolling made noticeable noise.

After a few lines into the letter, Minnie sighed, glancing behind hr to look at him. "Will you please stop that? I'm trying to read."

He continued flicking. "Whactha readin'?"

"What does it look like?" She held it up a little bit so he could see better in the dim lighting. "It's a letter."

"From who?" Flick, flick, flick.

"None of your business." She resumed reading, not noticing the returned rebuttal had made Mickey smile. He pocketed the toy, and crawled as close to the bars as he could, trying to read the letter over her shoulder. After reading another line in, Minnie noticed his shadow looming over him, and twisted to look at him, irritated. "I said it's none of your business!" She poked his nose through the bars and gave him a tiny push back.

Mickey sat on his knees, gripping the bars with his hands. "So yer mum's feelin' better?" With an agitated breath, she turned herself around fully, so that they were face to face, and he could no longer look over her shoulder. Mickey didn't mind terribly, continuing the conversation, curious again. "Good news, aint it?" Then why wasn't Minnie smiling or showing any signs of relief? Surely just his presence alone couldn't dampen something so good.

"Of course it's good news… but it's nothing new." Her eyes wouldn't meet him, though they weren't reading the letter either. "She's going to get sick again. She always does." She could feel his gaze on him, and cleared her throat. "She's sick… she's always been sick. She'll always be sick. Satisfied?" But when she did look at him, she was surprised not to see awkwardness or uncaring given to her. His expression was of sympathy, the kind she had seen whenever she talked to her girlfriends about her sickly mother. She had seen it so often in others that she could easily recognize it coming from him.

"M'sorry, turtledove." He mumbled, near quiet, and sat on his tail, unsettled with what he had taken from her. Normally she would snip at him for using that annoying nickname, but the fact that he was showing sympathy, and to her, floored her enough to keep her from snapping. Pirates weren't supposed to feel compassion for anyone but themselves. She actually felt more uncomfortable with him showing that kind of pity than of telling him about her personal life.

There was a desperate need to change the tension, and so Minnie quickly closed the letter, and grabbed the next one, flipping it open. "This one is from Mortimer." She even spoke rapidly, as if to shove the sympathy out of the air with sheer speed.

It did the trick, as Mickey's head was raised again, pulling the yo-yo back out to toss it between his hands, back and forth. "Mortimer? What kinda fool name is that?"

"Mortimer Rodawn." She explained as she read, thinking that someone named 'Mickey' had no right to complain about foolish names. "He's my fiancé."

The yo-yo dropped out of his hands with a silent 'thud' onto the floor. His eyes had widened, and it was his turn to be the truly shocked one. "Ye…" the words were difficult to come through. "Yer engaged?"

The tone in his voice got to her, and she met his astonishment with her own confusion. "Is it really so hard to believe I would be engaged?"

"N… No." There were tight-lipped buccaneers easier to get information out of easier than her with her personal life, yet it had never occurred to him that she had a man in her life outside of him. Not that he cared! Because he didn't, no sir. She could have all the men she wanted in her life. What did he care? He didn't! So there. "What's he want?"

Shrugging off his behavior, she read silently, though her eyebrows did quirk midway. "Oh."

"Oh, what?" Mickey repeated, picking his toy back up to play with.

"He sent me the ring." She placed the letter to a side, and picked up the small white box. It was a plain box, no decorations or designer labels to brag about. The inside was much the same, containing only white plush to hold the singular piece of gold jewelry. The ring contained only a tiny diamond that looked like it could have been the prize out of a cereal box. No inscription, no dazzle, just that jewel suck in and nothing more. Minnie lifted it out, and began to slide it over her gloved finger.

Mickey rubbed his eyes to make sure he was seeing right. "He… mailed the ring?" Even speaking it out loud only helped to strengthen how silly it was. "Aint it that the man is supposed ta be on one knee and all that romantic mush?"

"It's an arranged marriage, so he didn't need to propose." She closed the box.

"Thought ye lasses went all in fer the romantic mush." It just didn't sit right with him. "And my dog has sneezed shinier things than that itty bitty ring."

She began folding the letters carefully, trying to preserve them perfectly. "I don't need a big diamond or a proposal. The important thing is the marriage itself. Not every girl is obsessed with love and romance and weddings. Those things are so… trivial."

Mickey would never claim to be a wise master of all things womanly, but this was throwing everything he did know about women out the window. Either he had been wrong about girls all this time, or she was just the strangest one he had ever met. Opting for the latter, other words began to connect from what she had said. "So… ye don't even love this Morty?"

"Mortimer." She corrected, lifting a single finger to do so.

"Answer the question." He pouted at the refusal to do so.

"Why do you care?" She faced him, and crossed her arms right under her chest, feeling as if he was picking on her. Now that attitude was more like a pirate, wheedling and insulting anyone they wanted to, caring not for the feelings of others.

With an indignant look, Mickey copied her pose. "I don't care." She would never have guessed that the truth was sheer pettiness, concerning his questions. That, and he didn't care, of course not. Let her marry who she wanted! Let her love… or not love… aw, nuts to her! "Just seems silly, getting' hitched to a guy ye can't even stand…'spcially with such a fool name…"

"I can stand Mortimer! He's a wonderful person." She began to list off the reasons, showing a new finger to each one. "He's got plenty of money, he'll provide for me, he'll take care of me…" Which was just a roundabout way of rewording the same statement several times, but she didn't take Mickey smart enough to catch on. "And when we get married and I leave the N.A.V.Y., we'll live happily ever after." Maybe that last bit would make him stop talking about girls and their love of the romantic.

To her aggravation, he continued to yap and question, for with each fact she revealed about herself, there was a tiny hunger for even more. "Yer quittin' already? I knew yer a bit of a screw-up, but - "

"I am not a screw-up!"  The accusation so exasperated her that she stood up, glowering over him. "I just made a few mistakes, that's all! And I'm not quitting!"

"But ye said-"

"I know what I said!" She cut him off, and went right up to the bar cells to get a better yell towards him. "I said I'm leaving, not quitting! Mortimer wants me to leave when we get married! Do you understand, or is that not romantic or girly enough for you?" He just had so many ways of making her lose her temper, or in his opinion, she just had too many buttons to push to set it off.

He raised a hand like a boy in school. "Can I ask one more thing? Last one. Pirate's honor."

An oxymoron if she ever heard one.  With a heavy sigh, she rubbed her fingers between her eyes, hoping to stop the headache she knew was going to come. "Just one, and that's it."

He lowered his hand, and with all the sincerest interest he could muster, asked. "What do ye want?"

The power of those four words was enough to enable silence in those cells once more. They also carried a wind to extinguish her anger, and strength to lower her jerked up shoulders. Minnie had always firmly believed that sticks and stones, and high powered pistols, could break your bones, and words could never hurt you. It's why she was always able to recover from any insults she was given, and able to get over bad news when it was only spoken or written to her. Words weren't powerful, actions were. So why were these four so unusual and so powerful?

They had never been asked to her.

No, no, that couldn't be right. Her eyes moved around, as she searched her brain for a memory of that question. Yes, there were less significant times, like what did she want for breakfast, and what did she want to wear when on break, but this was clearly something greater. What did she want with her life and her future, that was the underline. An arranged marriage was a staple for the future, something already determined. Her parents had assumed Minnie would be happy with this, and for their sake, Minnie had let them think that. Her friends offered alternatives, but never actually asked this question. The ones she truly loved most in this world had never asked her what she wanted for her future.

The first time this question was given to her was by a law-breaking, childish, immature, annoying and out of his mind pirate. He actually wanted to know. The skill of those words made her arms drop to her sides, staring hard at him, lower lip quivering. Her throat felt dry, and there was a compelling cry within her to answer. "I… I want…" She had never been asked it, so she had never thought of it too greatly besides a typical complaint here and there. Despite all of her screw-ups in the N.A.V.Y., she still kept trying and worked her hardest. She had looked forward to her first pirate battle. She always trained hard and always practiced. She always did the chores given to her. Why?

"I want… to stay." Her voice shook to admit it. "I want to stay in the N.A.V.Y." She kept going forward for a future in the N.A.V.Y, that is why she did everything to the best of her ability, and why she took her duties so seriously. "I like… being here… I want to help people… My grandmother did this… and her mother, and her mother… I want to continue it…I want to help… I want to stay." She inhaled deeply, forcing her eyes to remain dry. When her eyes came up, she was surprised to see that Mickey had stood and was watching her intently. She hadn't even heard him move.

He hadn't intended to move or stand either, but her astonishment when he had asked the question hadn't been expected. He thought it was a simple question, and didn't understand the bombshell he had dropped until he heard her speak. It was at once both weak and strong, afraid to admit it but needing to say it. Something about this admission told him it was beyond the personal info he usually tried to dig out of her, and that it would be disrespectful not to stand for this. This was a family tradition that the girl was proud of, but in order to please her family, she would leave it behind. It was unfair, and in his view, ridiculous.

Strange, really… the girl that had been brave enough to fight him, and strong enough to tackle him down, was now looking as weak and heartbroken as a dumped kitten. He never really had a grudge against her, nor hated her, for she was doing her job in capturing him, it wasn't personal. His hands twitched, the toy pocketed. Right now, he wanted… it was madness, it was stupid, it made no sense… he wanted to hold her. Just give her a hug. She looked like she needed one, that was all, and he wanted to be the one to give it to her.

His arms shifted, but he couldn't bring himself to truly lift them. After all, they were separated by bars, and even if he tried, she'd probably slap him. She wouldn't want to be held by someone like him. Though, if she had trusted him enough to tell him what she truly wanted, then, maybe…

"Well!" She suddenly announced, straightened her body in a jerked motion, startling Mickey enough to freeze in place. "It is what it is." She had sought to defy the spell that had been cast over them, wanting to erase the weakness she had just shown. "I'm getting married and leaving the N.A.V.Y. That's all there is to it." Because what she wanted didn't really matter, not in the bigger picture, and it was foolish talk otherwise.

"W-wait, hey!" Now he gripped the bars, wanting to reach out and claim back the moment. "Then stay in the N.A.V.Y! Don't go and marry a guy who tells ye what ye can and can't do! What about yer folks? Can't ye tell 'em-"

"You said one question." She sat back down, with her back towards him. "I'm not answering anything else." She was terrified to answer anything else he had to ask. Hands on her knees, she put her eyes to the wall, telling herself that she would learn to want outside of the N.A.V.Y. life. Plenty of other women had done it when they left, so logically so should she.

Mickey, on the other hand, spat and sputtered at that defiance, and then banged his fists against the bars. "But! That's! Awwww, nuts to ye!" He turned his back to her as well, plopping right back down to sit. "Silly lasses, dunno what they want, marryin' guys with fool names, and…" Fine. What did he care? He didn't, you know. He absolutely did not care.

She didn't care what he thought either, mind you. Who would care what some stupid pirate thought? What business was her future to him? That would be the absolute last of her personal life she'd ever reveal to him. Not that she cared what he thought about her and her life. She did not, not one bit.

They sat there for a long time, absolutely not caring about the other in any way, shape, or form.

~*~

Minnie had short spans of sleep on the Hawkins, because 'lights out' was the only time her trio of friends could make their way to her assigned quarters to chat. Daisy would ask about Mickey, Clarabelle would fill Minnie in on the latest gossip, and Millie would just quietly give her two cents whenever she could get a word in. It was the night that Minnie had told Mickey about Mortimer that she proposed a question to her friends, sitting on her bed with her friends on the floor.

"What are you girls going to do after you get married?"

They looked at her, wondering where such a question had come from. Millicent's cheeks went apple red, and she laughed nervously, hands on her lap."W-why… you need to have a boyfriend to get married! And we don't have ones. I mean, well, Daisy does! Clarabelle doesn't… and neither do I. I-I do not. No." She grinned, breathing deeply through her nose.

Now they all looked at her and Daisy was the one to say what they were all thinking. "Okay, Millie, what's his name?"

Millie made a tiny 'eep' noise, trying to back up into a wall. "I-I don't know what you're talking about! There is no name, and no him, because I'm not dating anyone!" She shook her head hard, not aware of how bad of a liar she was.

Cow and duck rolled their eyes, and Daisy smirked as she continued speaking. "Well, aside from Millie's mystery guy… Clarabelle, I'm counting on you to find out…"

"On it." Clarabelle gave Daisy a quick high-five, despite Millie's whine of a whimper.

Daisy held up her hand, showing her own engagement ring. It was far more impressive than Minnie's for the diamond was nearly as big as her pupil, and there was even an inscription of her and Donald's name on it. "When Donald and I finally tie it, I'm going to start hosting the most fabulous parties… of course, you're all invited. McDuck has the loveliest ballrooms you've ever seen."

Clarabelle took over then, resting her head in her hands. "My prince charming better be coming along any day now! And when we're together, we'll open our own little boarding house. A sweet little bed and breakfast, so it'll be like having a million different kids of our own every month." Eyes went to Millie, but she was still far too flustered to give much of answer.

"You should just marry Horace and get it over with." Daisy reached behind her head to undo her ponytail, as Clarabelle gaped at her. "What? You two have been best friends forever - "

"I've been best friends forever with Millie too, but I'm not gunna walk down the aisle with her either." Clarabelle snorted, crossing her arms. "We've been over this, Horace and I are just friends. It would be… so strange to make it something else!"

Minnie knew exactly where this conversation was going, as it had been discussed a million times. Horace Horsecollar was a member of the A.R.M.Y, and had been a friend of Clarabelle and Millicent since their childhood, since they had all grown up in the same town together. He was a top mechanic, and more of a worker than a fighter. Countless times Daisy had suggested the two hook up, and each time Clarabelle had rebuked it harshly, with Millie weakly trying to mediate and Minnie trying to change the topic. A fight would escalate at this rate, so Minnie cleared her throat, trying to get attention back to her. "So are you girls going to stay in the N.A.V.Y. after you get married?"

It did the trick, as the trio looked back to her, incredulous. "Of course I am!" Clarabelle was the first to state it, lifting her head. "It's my life! I can't imagine doing anything else! Why would I stop just because I got – oof!" The burst of air came when Daisy ever so roughly jabbed her elbow into Clarabelle's ribs, trying to prevent dangerous territory from being tread on.

Daisy then straightened her posture, feigning innocence. "What she means, Minnie, is that the men we marry… they won't care as much as Mortimer does, the way he wants you out of harm's way." She forced a smile, and the other girls nodded accordingly, but Minnie saw right through the thin layering. Still, she appreciated the honesty beforehand and the effort now. "A year is a long time … he might change his mind."

"Thanks, Daisy." Minnie forced her own smile back, and was just as eager and sudden to switch topics again. "So, Millie, when do we get to meet him?"

The poodle shrieked and whined, as the girls began to bombard her with questions she refused to answer. As she continued denying, Minnie couldn't help but notice, in the course of the conversation, none of them asked what she wanted of her future, and of her marriage.

"I'm not seeing anyoooone, I sweaaaaar!"

~*~

The first few days of the second week were angrily awkward between prisoner and private, still upset over what had been admitted and what had been withheld. Their conversation went back to the mundane, until the third day, when silence had been ruling over once more. That afternoon, as Mickey was flicking his yo-yo side to side, he had suddenly started to sing.

"Well, come all ye jolly sailor boys who to the sea belong…" There wasn't much heart to it and it was more from boredom than anything else. "If ye'll listen ta me, I'll sing fer ye a song…" It still caught Minnie's attention, because it just seemed so out of place, to sing in a cell. "I've been as fine a seaman as ever furled a sail…"

Then it seemed even further away, when Minnie finished the stanza. "Until by lightning lost my sight in that last November gale." When Mickey raised his brow to her, she offered a one shoulder shrug. "The girls hear those kinds of songs all the time when they go for stealth missions. They tell them back to us. They're quite catchy."

Mickey clicked his tongue to his teeth, and tried for another lyric to see if the same would happen. "There was a wealthy merchant in the town where I was born - "

"I own, I loved his daughter and she loved me, I swear."  She leaned onto the wall, with less enthusiasm in her voice.

That wouldn't do at all, to Mickey. "Aw, c'mon, put some… 'oomph' into it. It's not a funeral."  He cleared his throat, trying to show her how it was done. "The press gang they came after me, and I was forced ta go, he sent me away ta plow the sea where stormy winds do blow!" His tone was merrier, and he even swung his arm like a conductor, trying to make her match his cheer.

Minnie put her head on one hand, lips pressed together. He was often very childish like this, a boy in a grown man's body. He was going to die in two weeks, and yet he found solace in singing a sea shanty. But then, it wasn't like she had anything better to do, and it was more favorable than doing chores. So when it was her turn, she tried putting more power to it, though didn't sing as loud as he was going. "On the fourteenth of November, from Cook's Harbour we set sail…"

"Louder!" he commanded, now conducting with two fingers, yo-yo still attached to one. "Like ye've just had yer first drink of the day!"

Putting aside the fact she didn't drink, she continued, though she would not go louder. "Bound down to Gibraltar, with a soothing, pleasant gale…" Though she did try to put more melody in it, an honest effort.

"That's more like it! Use those lungs!"

"The wind blew fair, our course did steer and back before the wind, but still my thoughts kept thinking on the girl I left behind…We arrived at Gibraltar and we lay ashore while there, and then bound for England the winds they did still blow fair… the very day we put to sea, set was every sail, when a storm came on, eclipsed the sun, and blew a fearsome gale." She was all ready and set to sing the next stanza, since it had seemed he had delegated the singing to her, but Mickey suddenly stood, strutting around his cell and taking over the performance.

"Strong winds still kept increasing up ta a hurricane, our skipper cried, 'Make haste, me boys, close reef our main topsail!'" For the part of the skipper, he had taken off his hat, and made his voice go purposefully squeakier, trying to imitate a boy much younger than he. The expression he was making to go along with the voice was so nonsensical, the voice itself was so crazy, that Minnie lost control of her body, and laughter erupted from her throat. Her hands were on her ribs, and no matter how hard she fought it down, it still spilled forth, uncontrollable. It wasn't her fault, how could anyone not laugh at that voice and that face? It was a good thing the other girls weren't around to see this.

Laughter is contagious, and so Mickey stopped the song to join in on the hearty good time. Her laughter was very cute, and it suited her very much. It was like running the fingers down a key of pianos, back and forth, melodious, a new burst with each one. He enjoyed the sound of it, and their laugher continued bounce off one another. The moment for tunes had passed, so once the laughter began to quiet and normal breathing was attained, he placed his hat back on, and turned to face her. The plan was to ask her if she knew any more songs, and possibly to try and make her laugh more, when something miraculous happened.

She smiled.

Smiles themselves were nothing miraculous, they happened all the time. While the song itself wasn't cheerful, the duo had been laughing, and it was impossible to laugh without smiling. He had seen hundreds of smiles in his lifetime, as he wanted the men on his crew to be happy.  He knew Minnie was capable, though never gave much thought to it. But when he saw her smile, he suddenly forgot all about those logical facts. They seemed vastly unimportant right now.

It was the single most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his entire life. Considering his life was made on stealing treasures and jewels and other beautiful things, he felt he was very qualified to think this of her. Perhaps it was the way her colorful eyes were lit up, or how it was perfectly symmetrical down to her tiny cheeks. It was more than that, but he couldn't pinpoint it into words. It was not just a smile, it was Minnie smiling. That was part of the beauty, though he still couldn't understand why it was so beautiful.

It was… It was just… just… Gosh! To look at her! To look at that! His legs felt weak, breathing became complicated, and thinking was a challenge. He knew feeling this was made no sense, but darn it all, he didn't care. He just wanted to keep looking at that smile, and felt he would do anything to make her keep smiling. This was beauty, this was life, this was fantastic, this was… he had to see it up close. There was no question about it, as his body felt a need harder than almost anything in his life. He just had to see it closer, see her closer, gosh, that smile, he needed it, had to be closer to her, had to, need to, her, that smile, gosh, oh, needed…

BONK!

The desire for that smile had somehow blocked out part of his vision and his common sense, as he had sprinted right into the cell bars. The speed, force, and pain was enough to land him flat on his back, hands on his head, howling in agony, kicking his legs in the air. "Awww! Who put those there?!"

Minnie's smile vanished, never having any idea of the sort of impact it made on him, as the entire course of his shock and desire lasted mere seconds. Once more, laughter escaped her, and this time, it was even harder. What a stupid pirate! Just what in the world had he been trying to do, escape? It was so dumb that she felt it was all right to laugh, and knew when she would inevitably tell her friends later, they would laugh as well.

As for Mickey, he was far too invested in his own pain to listen to her piano keys of laughter. It was all her fault! That darn, spunky, loony, beautifully smiling lass who he did not care one doubloon for!

End Of Chapter Two.