Archive of Our Own ^beta

The raid was over, the crew was loading loot into the dinghies, and Fang was double-checking the galley in case they missed anything tasty.

"Oi, watch it!"

Immediately, Fang found himself tripping over Ivan's foot, falling toward the galley entrance. Just before he sliced his forehead open on an edge of the splintery door, he caught himself on both sides of the doorknob, nearly wrenching the door from its hinges as it took his weight.

"Ivan!"

"What! Can't a man eat his jam in peace around here?"

Fang glared down at his crewmate. Ivan, his face still a little bloody from the raid, was sitting on the floor with his back against a wall and his legs stretched out in front of him. He was balancing a jar of an earthy brown substance on his thigh, a knife resting in the jar with it.

"You could'a made me hit my head!"

He watched as Ivan ignored him and scooped up some jam with the knife, which he then popped into his mouth, apparently not worried about cutting his tongue.

Fang couldn't help giggling at the scene.

"Captain Bonnet is gonna be pissed when he finds you got to some jam before he did."

Ivan rolled his eyes. "Yeah . . ." He ate another knife-ful. "If he ever finds out."

"Blackbeard's like a bloodhound for sweets! He'll find it instantly and tell 'im!"

Ivan tapped the side of nose with the knife, getting a little jam by his cheek. "I've been hiding sweet stuff from him for years. Sugar? Pasties? Candied stuff? Had it all right under his nose."

"No! But how?"

"It's all about location, and whether you can be less predictable. It's an art, mate!"

Fang huffed a little. "Blackbeard never fails to find my sugar plum supply and ask me for some . . . 'Some' being 'a lot,' usually," he added with a grumble.

Ivan tapped his nose with the knife a little harder. "That's just it! You're not at my level, man! Takes time and experience to figure it out!"

Fang shook his head fondly.

"What if you don't even have to hide it? The captains might not like dates, or even how the jam looks (Stede anyway), and wouldn't touch the stuff!"

Before Ivan could finish his latest lump of jam and reply, two voices drifted from the far end of the corridor outside the galley.

"Look here, no here, Ed! The log clearly indicates that there is date jam somewhere on this ship. But we've been looked everywhere and we haven't found it!"

"Aw, calm down, love, the log's probably just wrong."

"Oh Edward, to be so cruelly teased by the prospect of having date jam! It really has been years since I last had any . . ."

"Hmm . . . maybe some other kind of teasing could help you feel better . . . ?"

Fang finally turned around and started making his way to what he hoped were some storage rooms, laughing a little forcefully to drown out the flirting.

"Well," he said, raising his voice a little in case the captains overheard him, "I'll leave you to your hideous, not-at-all-sweet, poor excuse of a fruit jam."

Ivan quickly called after him in a loud, nervous whisper, "Hey! If anyone asks about where I am, you saw NOTHING!"