punchedaklingon: (Default)
Lt P. A. Chekov ([personal profile] punchedaklingon) wrote2015-03-09 08:34 pm
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 Ben/Pasha, Role reversal, pirates

Her hand slipped over to his and carefully repositioned it further north before making the dark ink mark on the map. Pasha shifted back into her chair once more and picked up the embroidery that was supposed to be keeping her occupied and out of trouble. 

"You wouldn't wish to send us into the rocks by Portugal." She quietly noted, picking up her needle once more and glowering at the pattern she was supposed to be making. Ben frowned at the map, picking it up to look closer before throwing it back down onto the desk with a huff. They'd both been sent into the Captain's cabin to keep them out of trouble. With the ship running progressively lower and lower on deckhands thanks to yellow fever everyone was having to work double duties and Benjamin who normally took charge of the Quarter Master's role was struggling to understand the mess that the navigator had left the maps in.

"How do you know that?" He questioned, checking the measurements again and finding that she was right. Pasha threw her embroidery onto the desk, ultimate frustrated with the task at hand. "I simply." She shrugged. "Riley was drunk most of the time. He used to draw pictures on the maps and I used to chart the course." She stood and stepped around the desk to look at the map from Ben's position. "See, if you send us this way then the starbord will be dashed by the rocks and we will run aground. Papa is the Keptain. I hawe been watching him write maps since I was a child." Pasha offered as way of explanation. Ben looked from the map to her abandoned embroidery. "Tell you what." He proposed. "I'll do your-" He waved his hand at the embroidery piece. "-if you finish this course."

It seemed a fair trade and so they sat in productive silence for all of ten minutes finishing each other's tasks with frightening speed. "Well. What are we supposed to do now?" Pasha questioned with a sigh, rubbing her hands to remove the worst of the ink. "We're stuck in here for another three hours." Ben pushed the needle into the top of the fabric one last time. "I've got a good idea of how we could pass three hours." He grinned.