It had been almost a month since John had been aboard Redbeard, as he quickly found out was the name Sherlock had given to the ship. Although the Captain always seemed to avoid saying Redbeard, always opting for 'the ship' or 'my ship' instead.

John wasn't sure why that was but he found a lot of the Captain's behaviour to be odd, and not because he was a pirate. He seemed odd even compared to the other pirates aboard.

It was quickly becoming habit for John to overanalyze Sherlock's behaviour or words. It was rare he actually saw or heard the Captain, so he had little material to go on. He'd even tired to ask Molly about him from time to time when they lay awake at night, staring up and imagining the stars.

She never told him much. Just that the Captain was not someone to mess with as he had a short temper and was rarely kind to anyone.

John had heard stories from the crew about Sherlock's 'temper tantrums' as Jim had put it. Shooting crew members, beating people, poison, deception and generally just messing with people's mind for the hell of it. He'd even supposedly got a woman to fall in love with him just so he could see her heart break when he told her how he truly despised her.

The doctor was sure that most of it was just said to scare him.

"John!" Molly's voice snapped him out of his daydreams

John hums and looks over at the woman standing at the foot of the stairs leading to the deck. Over the past few nights, John hadn't seen Molly once. She'd been constantly with the Captain and frankly John didn't want to think about what he had been doing to his friend.

"Yes, Molly?"

"I told you that the Captain wants to see you, now get your arse up and follow me" She snaps, obviously annoyed by his lack of concentration.

John is quick to stand, a nervous flutter running through him. The Captain never called for anyone, expect Molly, his first mate, Jim, and sometimes a pirate who goes by Lestrade, who John had actually formed a decent bond with over the past month.

The doctor follows Molly up on deck and crosses to the Captain's cabin, trailing behind her like a puppy. John couldn't help notice how Lestrade sent him a pitiful glance and Jim grinned like a madman.

That really didn't help his nerves. Suddenly a story from one of the crew comes to mind. They'd said that last time Sherlock called someone into the office who wasn't Jim, Molly or Lestrade had been thrown over board.

Apparently he'd deal with matters on deck often, mainly just to embarrass the crew or point out everyone's flaws.

John's stomach twists nervously as Molly pulls open the craved wooden door and gestures for him to enter first.

John does as he's told, quickly having learnt that while Molly was technically on his side it was a smart idea to do as she asks. Life abroad this ship had certainly toughened her up and the Captain's rules hadn't stopped her from slapping John around the head. (The first time she'd done it, John had nearly fainted, thinking that he was going to be brutally murdered by Sherlock)

Stepping into the room, John immediately sees Sherlock sat in his chair, only his top half visible as he's tucked right up to the desk. His posture is perfect, back straight, as he watches John enter, placing his fingers under his chin as he does.

Molly closes the door behind him before she moves to stand on Sherlock's right, her hand placed lightly on his shoulder. Sherlock doesn't even acknowledge her as his eyes are still fixed on John.

The icy blue John had seen before looked almost green now and John wanted to get a closer look at the other man's eyes but he stays put, standing straight but his posture no where near as flawless as the Captain's.

"So. John" Sherlock smirks, leaning forward slightly in his seat but otherwise not moving.

"Captain?" John replies with a trace of a confused frown.

"You've been here just under a month and in that time we have not set foot on land" Sherlock removes one of the hands under his chin to straighten a piece of paper on his deck, his eyes flickering down briefly.

In both the times John had been in, Sherlock had straightened already straight and perfectly aligned paper. The Captain certainly had strange habits.

"Correct" John nods, assuming the pause the Captain had made was for him to reply.

Sherlock seems satisfied with the reply, one side of his mouth curling up in a tiny half-smile.

"We're making a stop tomorrow"

This wasn't news to John. The crew had been buzzing over the stop for the past week. He had no clue why they were all so happy to be stopping off at this Island.

Jim had been sulking, however, seeing as the first day John was here Sherlock had told him he was to remain abroad during the stop.

"It's a place that the men enjoy and I wonder if you are trustworthy enough for me to allow you off the ship"

John remains silent, but hopes Sherlock deems him worthy. He really didn't fancy staying on here with Jim. He'd probably end up dead or near enough to dead he wasn't of any use. It had been made clear to him in the past month that Jim didn't think too fondly of John.

Sherlock smirks then and John gets a sudden sense that Sherlock could read his thoughts. Just like he did with Molly at times.

"I think we can trust you. In those few seconds I paused, not once did escaping cross your mind. You were just thinking about how you don't want to be abroad with Jim" Sherlock continues to smirk, leaning back into his chair and Molly's touch.

John can't help but blurt out "Can you read my mind? 

Sherlock smirks, his shoulder's shaking in a gentle silent chuckle. A surge of pride rushes through John, he'd made Sherlock laugh. He'd never seen that before. Granted, he hasn't seen the Captain a lot.

"No, John. I can't. It's obvious what you're thinking though, it's just picking up the signs in your body language"

Why did John feel like Sherlock had just let him in on some dirty little secret?

"Right. Is there anything in particular that I need to do on this Island?" John asks, feeling now was the time for questions.

Sherlock's shoulders shake again and John finds himself wishing to hear Sherlock laugh.

After a small sigh of what seemed to be happiness Sherlock spoke again "Just enjoy yourself. That's why we go there. The Crew drink, sleep with woman, socialise and just generally relax"

Jeez, John thinks, no wonder Jim was pissed he can't go.

"A-and I can do that too? Drink? Sleep with people?" John asks, a bit nervous.

Sherlock's eyebrow goes up on the word 'people' and John averts his gaze, no doubt outing himself further.

Molly gives a gentle laugh and it seems to smooth out any tension that was forming.

"Yes, John" Sherlock answers, expression smug, "You can sleep with people"

"Just for the record, if I wasn't a doctor and you, to an extent, needed me, would I be dead right now because of the information you've just required?"

John's heart was pounding. He felt like he'd just crossed the line. He'd confirmed Sherlock's suspicions completely and had sort of told the (supposedly) heartless Captain that he needs John, which he certainty doesn't.

He just hopes that Sherlock's good mood remains.

"I think, John..." Sherlock murmurs, purposely pausing to be dramatic "I'll let you figure that out by yourself"

Molly laughs again, putting a hand over mouth in an attempt to stop the high pitched giggles slipping from her lips. Sherlock sends her a sideways smile and it's the most genuine smile John had seen from the Captain. 

He didn't like it. He wanted to be the one to cause that beautiful smile.

John freezes up at his own thoughts, gaining a raised eyebrow from both Molly and Sherlock. Never had John been more thankful for them not being able to constantly read his mind. Or read his body language and be scarily on target about what he was thinking.

Sherlock watches John for a few more seconds before he tells them both to leave. Molly gives the Captain's arm a gentle squeeze before leading John out of the room.

Later that night all John could hear was the cheers and sheer overwhelming excitement of the crew. Surely it wasn't that big a deal, right? Beer and women? John didn't see the appeal. It wasn't that hard to go months without sex. You just had to deal with it.

Also, they should be used to it by now. Lestrade had told John that they'd been with Sherlock for years. Almost ten years in some cases. Yet Lestrade seemed to be the only one who wasn't sex crazed. John did see the glint in his eyes though, each time tomorrow was mentioned.

While John lays in bed and stares off to the corner, he thinks about what the

Captain had said. He wouldn't do anything tomorrow, allowed or not. He'd sit by Molly, if he could, and just sip at a drink or two. He didn't want to risk anything.

He didn't want to know what the crew might do if they found out he was gay. Lestrade and Molly may be okay but the rest of them.. Not so much.

They'd tear John apart.

..Or would they? Sherlock didn't seem to care. Would he stop his men from killing John, should the secret come out?

Not that John was going to come out to anyone. Ever. Well.. Maybe his sister, Harry. That is, if he ever sees her again.

For some reason John was oddly content with being held on this ship forever. He liked it here. He had a few good friends, was treated well enough and wasn't often forced into anything he didn't want to do. Molly had been wrong when she'd told him he'd have it worse.

That being said, John didn't think Molly had it all that bad. Sherlock seemed, from what John had seen, to genuinely care about Molly.

John became even more lost in his thoughts of Sherlock, Molly and his life in general that he barely noticed how he was slowly drifting closer and closer to sleep.

When John woke up everything was silent and he could automatically tell it was the early hours of the morning. No way should he be up this early.

After blinking a few times, allowing his eyes to adjust, John looks over in the general direction of where Molly usually sleeps. The young women was curled up on her makeshift bed, a trace of a smile on her lips as she curls further inwards. Almost cuddling herself.

John smiles as he sits up. He honestly cared for her. She was so brave and while he wasn't sure she was trustworthy, John felt like an older brother to her. Should he need to, he'd jump in to protect her.

After a few moments of debating, John stands carefully- sure to not make a noise and wake Molly. He then creeps up the stairs and onto the deck.

The ship was gently swaying from side to side, the wind light as it swept over John and made his hair toss like a restless sleeper. Yet, despite the wind,  it was a rather warm night. Not too warm. Just.. perfect, really.

  The doctor smiles at how quiet and peaceful it was on deck in comparison to the day.

John walks over to the edge of the ship and peers over the side. Redbeard was a truly beautiful ship. The dark wood had a superior, almost posh, feel to it. As if it ere a ship made for the royal family, not a pirate ship.

John's shoulders shake in a gentle chuckle at his own thoughts as he leans further forward, getting a better look of the foaming water below.

It was dark, so he couldn't see much. But it was nice all the same, just spending some time out in the open without twenty or thirty people around.

John's attention is soon on the night sky. It's a clear night and the stars are shining brightly. As John let's a smile slide on his face he leans back slightly, tilting his head further upwards.

He then becomes aware of a presence behind him and twirls on his heels, suddenly. He seems to scare himself more then whoever was about a metre in front of him.

Oh God, it's Jim, his mind supplies. He can't see the figure properly but the doctor bets it's Jim. Here to threaten him again or maybe even hurt him.

John blinks, his fear dissolving as he takes in the Captain's face, lit by the moonlight. It's not Jim.

A long sigh of relief slides past John's lips before he nods a greeting.

"Captain"

Sherlock's lips curl up in a slight smile. "Trouble sleeping, John?"

It's then John takes note of Sherlock's attire for the first time this evening. The Captain is topless, clad in only a pair of soft blue pyjama bottoms. He looks so normal and it strikes John how innocent the look is. If John didn't know he was then he'd never guess that Sherlock was a pirate.

"Like what you see?" The Captain suddenly questions, his voice with a teasing edge to it.

John's eyes snap back up to Sherlock's face as he realises he'd been staring and allowing his thoughts to run wild. He feels heat rise to his cheeks as he stutters out a reply.

"I- No- I mean you're nice and, er, stuff- but I wasn't looking! I swear" By the time John falls silent he feels a fool and his face is a bright shade of red.

Sherlock's shoulder move in that silent chuckle again. "Calm down, John. I was joking" His voice held a smirk and John didn't need to look up to know one was there.

John finds himself liking the way Sherlock said his name in that silky voice of his. It almost sent shivers down his spine.

John squats away the thoughts before they can progress further. He can't think that way about anyone of this ship.

Sherlock walks closer then and leans on the side of the ship, his elbows resting on the wood and his head resting in the palms of his hands. John turns to face the open ocean again, smiling a little at the sight of it all.

It truly is beautiful.

"Why are you awake, John?" The Captain questions.

Another shiver almost passes through John and he wants to beg the pirate to stop saying his name in every bloody sentence he says.

"Dunno. I just woke up.. and once I'm awake it's of little use me trying to sleep again. Yourself?"

Sherlock freezes and it's so quick that John nearly missed it. Nearly.

"Oh, I'm in a similar situation to you. Once I'm up, I'm up" Sherlock shrugs it off.

John wants to pry but he doesn't. He knows better then to do that. From what he's heard, the Captain would have no regrets or guilt about tossing him over board to swim with the fishes.

"I see.." John trains off awkwardly.

John watches from the corner of his eye as Sherlock looks up at the night sky, his expression thoughtful and calm. Beautiful is the word that comes to mind as John takes in detail about the Captain.

His pale skin lit up by the moonlight. His soft curls that have often been hid under a hat and yet they still have a bounce to them. His cupid bow shaped lips that appear to be a light shade of pink at this moment in time.

Then of course, his eyes. They appear to be blue again, with a hint of the green Jon had seen earlier just lurking behind. As cliché as it was, John felt he could spend years staring into his eyes and not get bored. They were gorgeous, just like the man who owned them.

Sherlock turns his head then and looks at John with a smirk. John blushes again but can't bring himself to avert his eyes.

With another silent chuckle, Sherlock winks at the doctor and then walks away.

John just stands there, a blushing mess, staring after the Captain.