Captain James Black stood in the captain?s quarters of the Sea Wolf and held up a pair of his long johns. Anyone who knows anything about sailing a three-masted ship on the ocean in the middle of winter would know how important it is to have a good pair of long johns to wear. Black?s long johns were showing signs of wear and tear, but he would be far too embarrassed to bring them to Fay to see if they could be repaired. No, he?d just have to purchase a new pair.

What he decided to bring instead was that pair of pants that he couldn?t live without. We all have one of those ? that perfect pair of pants that just fits like a glove, is more comfortable than your bed in the morning just when you have to get out of it, and that look so damn good on you that you feel ten times better just wearing them. Then they begin to get thread bear in one place or a rip in another, and yet you still wear them until the day comes when you decide that enough is enough and it?s time to play funeral taps and bid them a teary farewell.

James had a pair just like that; a pair of dark gray, brush denim pants that looked like they were tailored just for him. They now had a rip in the seam that you could slip a cannonball through and they were on the verge of being totally obscene. James put these pants and two shirts into a cotton bag with a draw string.

He then picked up another package that was wrapped in a brightly colored fabric. This package was a gift for Fay. His pirating would often yield some very fine fabrics and James had kept the best of those in his cabin. In the package were some of the finest silks and cloth from the orient, weaves from Turkey, and dyed fabrics from India. It was only a small sampling of each culture, but he chose the best he had and she would know their quality.

Captain Black bathed, and then dressed in clean clothes and shined boots; his hair was combed and a fragrant oil of with a hint of vanilla with almond overtones was applied. He walked down the street, whistling a little sea chantey, looking forward to seeing Fay once again and having dinner with her. He kept referring to the piece of fabric that she had given him with her address embroidered into it, until at last he stood on the step of her shop.

He took a deep breath, opened the door and stepped inside.

?Fay? Are you here? It?s Captain James Black.?

((posted by Charna))

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A lovely afternoon greeted her as she sauntered through the city streets, the sun glittering down on the choppy, pin-straight, ebony locks. She walked with a confidence that had been practiced, but she'd practiced it so much it was now near effortless and rather flawless to the casual observer. She met the public with the pretty smile she usually maintained at social events, all the while searching the windows. She'd been looking for the better part of an hour, now, and she was starting to get worried that she just wouldn't find it.

Just then, of course, when she was sure she'd breezed right on by it decades ago, the delicate spring wind gave a push...enough of a push to make a sign ahead give a slight creak. When she glanced up to investigate, she brightened up with a genuinely pleased smile, eyeing the letters etched in gold. This place was always surprising her, for it seemed excess magic and happy circumstance liked to linger in the very atmosphere. With a giddy gait, she scampered ahead to the appropriate set of doors.

Relieved to find them open, and devoid of any silly little bell to ring in her entrance, she took a step in, suddenly timid. The blue-greens darted with wonder to the corners of the room and made pit-stops on everything in-between. Another step forward, but she was too busy looking around like a fool to actual ask if anyone was here.