I like the sea best in the morning, when the waves dance with the horizon, silent and calm. Often, I awaken ever before my coxswain does, just to have to ocean to myself.

This morning, the moon hasn't yet faded. I watch it float in the blue, thinking of all we must do today. It's Cassie and I's one month anniversary. I sigh to myself, thinking of the "surprise" party my crew is planning. Aretha slipped up and mentioned it to me. At least Cassie doesn't know.

"Lanie?"

My gut clenches at the voice, annoyed. I don't like people interrupting my morning solitude. Then I recognize the voice and relax, allowing the bright candle of love in my chest to warm me. "Morning," I say.

She comes up behind me, wrapping her arms around my waist. "Happy anniversary." Cassie hooks her chin over my shoulder, her soft lips grazing the tattoo on my neck.

"Happy anniversary, ma cher." I tell her.

"Bon anniversaire," she giggles.

"Happy birthday to you, too." My wife's attempts at French haven't been wildly successful, but I find her efforts adorable. "Je t'aime."

"I love you, too."

We stand in silence for a moment while she kisses my neck, watching the horizon fade from purple to blue. Soon, the crew joins us, showering us in "Happy Anniversary"s and cheers. Margie provided them each with a mug of rum and a slap on the back.

"Cap'n?" came a call from the bow. "Yer gon'ta wanter see this."

I gibe Cassie a kiss on the cheek, sighing. If it were this simple, I would quit this pirate's life of mine and find a deserted island for my wife and I. She's like a delicate rose, fragile but formidable. You can only enjoy her beauty either from afar, or once you've learned how to handle her up close.

I find my coxswain bent over the wheel, spyglass raised to her startling green eye. Erva tosses me the spyglass, lips pursed. "Lookin' t' be bad news, Cap."

Tipping my hat to her, I take the spyglass and look through it. The lense fills with empty water and a bit of sky. I frown, ready to ask Erva what she's seen when the woman reaches over and tilted the spyglass to the right.

Out slips the blue and in fills the brown.

I watch the Jolly Roger ripple in the wind, black and bold as ever. But whose ship does he service today?

One glance down answers my question.

"Not today," I mutter. This can't be a coincidence. Captain Robertson's ship emerging from the fog on the day of my anniversary? The chances are one in fifty. Feeling my cheeks flush with anger, I toss the spyglass back to Ginerva and call out, "All hands on deck!"

Erva rings the bell, making the deck shake with the noise. The early birds begin to gather around while my stragglers emerge from below, groaning in their zombie-like forms.

I see Cassie starting to jog over. "Cas!" I yell. "Go downstairs and find my nine milli, would you? Thanks, dear." The last thing I need is her seeing her brother's ship and breaking down before the fight's even begun. Anyway, my pistol's pretty well hidden (tucked behind my wardrobe in a loose floorboard under a book and a box of photographs). Should keep her busy.

The deck is covered by a thick blanket of sleepy women, eyelids drooping from lack of coffee. "I know it's early," I yell, waiting for the last of them to gather. "But this is important. I need you alert." I startle them yanking my second pistol out of my boot, firing a blank straight into the sky. Hopefully, that should give Billy the willies, too.

"Ain' it your anniver'sry, cap'?" Halley asks. "Ye should take it easy. Hang wi' the wife." I heard a couple mumbles of agreement. "Where she at, anywho?"

I scowl, banging the pistol on the wheel. "We don't have time for this! Ye see that ship back there?" I jab my gun toward the west, directing them toward the tiny dot pushing through the early morning mist.

"Tha's a ship?"

"Sure as hell is," I snap. "None other than The Hydra."

A nervous mutter travels through the crowd as they glance back and forth between the ship and I. Many of their hands fidget beside the hilts of their swords or move to button the last clasp on their shirts.

Having gotten their attention, I slip the pistol back in my boot. "For those of you who don't know, that ship is captained by Billy Robertson. Ye know who he is?"

There were mostly grim nods, but a couple of shouted "No!"s.

"He's Cassie's brother," I told them, "and a real scumbag. And I'm gonna kill him today!"

A monstrous cheer arose from my bloodthirst crew, a wave of swords drawn to make a shiny display of confidence for Billy Robbie. Try me, I think, smirking at the little dot on the horizon. Maybe they have muscle and muskets and a bigger ship, but I have the most dedicated crew ever put to sea.