Chapter Text
Stede and Charlotte Bonnet were eccentric philanthropic millionaires residing in Lichfield. They were the founders of BonaBon Corporations, a logistical and securities powerhouse headquartered in Birmingham, and widely regarded as pillars of the community.
Their eccentric compound, with its high walls, was quietly talked about in town. No one dared question it. The Bonnets were strangely private, though they loved hosting the occasional odd party.
They were very generous, donating to causes close to their hearts and even founding several charities of their own. Within their company, they set the bar for progressive management, offering generous salaries and benefits that made them stand out as employers.
But if you asked Edwin Bonnet about his son, his response was always the same. A sharp look of disdain, followed by the bitter remark that it was such a shame Stede and his wife had never produced children. "What kind of woman," he would sneer, "fails to give her husband heirs? Particularly one of her status. A disgrace."
Charlotte Eloise Stuart was the daughter of Reginald Humphrey Stuart, the formidable Home Secretary, and her position in society was supposed to be untouchable. She had not been Edwin Bonnet’s first choice for his son, but when Stede and Charlotte announced their elopement, much to the shock of both families, he had not been entirely displeased.
At least, not at the beginning. Her sharp intellect and poise lent the Bonnets a certain legitimacy, and the press was quick to paint them as a golden couple destined to lead both business and society forward.
Anyone who met the couple would tell you the same: they had never encountered two people more devoted to each other. Stede and Charlotte’s love was undeniable, their partnership the foundation of both their private lives and their empire.
The truth of it all, however, was more complicated. They did love each other dearly. There was only one small, carefully guarded detail that no one else knew.
"Lucius," Stede calls over the intercom from his large oak desk. His office, more like a grand study than a workspace, is lined with towering bookshelves filled with leather-bound volumes, maritime maps, and framed photographs of philanthropic ventures. Antique globes and polished brass instruments sit on stands near the shelves, evidence of Stede’s fascination with both exploration and detail.
A decanter of brandy rests on a side table beside a pair of wingback chairs upholstered in dark green leather, inviting yet rarely used. The faint ticking of an ornate grandfather clock fills the silences between his thoughts. A pair of tall windows draped in heavy navy curtains let in streaks of muted afternoon light, which falls across the Persian rug sprawling beneath his desk. The air carries the faint smell of old paper and polished wood.
He sits back in his teal leather chair, surveying the financial figures for the Red Flag project laid out before him, as he waits for his assistant to answer. He sighs; that boy is probably not even at his desk.
He presses the button again. "Really, Lucius."
Finally, a response crackles over the speaker. "Sorry Captain."
"Do we have the fax in about the consultant that Charlotte hired? I don't recall when she said he is arriving."
He is still looking over the files while he waits for a response, wishing he had written it down. His gaze lands on a photo of himself and Charlotte smiling dressed in white on the balcony of a Château outside Strasbourg. He remembers that day, a rare break from a mission. It was one of his favorite photos of them.
Charlotte was so good at remembering these things, but she was not returning for another two days from her trip to meet with the head of BritSteel in Liverpool. He hated when she was away for so long. It felt like it was happening more often these days—not always for business, and he did not let himself dwell on that. He knew she missed it all, their old work. At least Jim was with her, which eased his anxiety somewhat.
A knock at his office door pulls him back. "Come in."
Lucius enters, a folder in hand. "Here it is. Their team should be arriving tomorrow morning."
Stede looks up at him, his shock plain enough that Lucius freezes, mirroring his panic. "You forgot, didn’t you."
"Of course not," Stede tries to recover.
"Oh my god, Stede. I am pretty sure Charlotte reminded you several times before she left."
Stede shoots him a dirty look. His wife is the CEO for a reason, they are co-founders. He is the CFO, with a Masters in Forensic Accounting that has come in handy more than once. Charlotte always says he is a whiz with numbers. He has this. He and Charlotte went over everything last week.
"We need Olu and Swede. Get them into the conference rooms. Let’s do a final check, make sure the offices are in order. Then make sure Ms. Hawthorne in HR has everything ready for the morning. And since Jim isn’t here, check with security that the badges are prepared."
Lucius scribbles the list down quickly. "Pretty sure Jim had it all set before he left with Char."
Stede nods in agreement. He can handle this. He knows the account well enough to get the consultants debriefed. He has the financials prepared. When Charlotte returns, he can hand it off with the seamless ease they’ve always had. Nothing to worry about.
The rest of the afternoon is spent double-checking every detail. Olu proves invaluable, checking in with Ms. Hawthorne and security, even offering to join Stede in the morning to meet with the consultant team. That helps ease Stede’s nerves. Still, this isn’t just any consultant team.
This is Blackbeard.
The partnership between BonaBon Corporations and Red Flag of Singapore marked new territory for the company. For years, BonaBon had been building its reputation as a rising force in logistics and security across Europe, but this deal would push them into a new global arena. It was a gap in their experience, their first attempt at a partnership of this scale, and they needed guidance.
Enter Blackbeard and his crew.
Edward Teach, known in business circles as Blackbeard, led a consultant team with a reputation for precision and effectiveness. They were selective in the contracts they accepted, which made their presence at BonaBon all the more meaningful. This was not about muscle or fearsome tactics alone—it was about bringing in steady expertise to broker a partnership that BonaBon could not secure on its own.
With Blackbeard’s crew advising, the Red Flag deal had the foundation it needed. For BonaBon, their involvement signaled both the seriousness of the effort and the importance of getting this first-of-its-kind partnership right.
It was Charlotte's idea to reach out to Blackbeard. She had mentioned it one night while Stede was reading, as she reclined on the oversized chaise in their library. He could hear the worry in her voice about the global push, a rare uncertainty that reminded him of their college days, when they first became friends. He remembered lowering his book, marking the page carefully before pulling her close. She shifted against his chest, her head beneath his chin, as he ran his fingers through her golden hair.
"If you think it’s worth pursuing, then it’s worth trying," he said.
"It’s not guaranteed. Blackbeard is particular," she admitted softly.
"Never know if we don’t try, starlight," he said, kissing the top of her head.
She laughed. "I hate when you use my words against me."
Now, by some miracle, Blackbeard Consultants would be arriving tomorrow.
Somewhere near Liverpool in a secluded warehouse.
A hand slams on top of a table, and a man flinches. He looks up into angry green eyes. Her voice is smooth, almost melodic, the kind that lulls you like a song, posh but edged with danger. "I really would hate for this to move beyond a friendly conversation."
The air is damp and heavy, smelling of rust and oil. The single bulb swinging above them casts jagged shadows that crawl across the concrete walls. Every flicker makes the man’s pulse quicken. He can hear his own breath echoing in the cavernous space, shallow and ragged.
The man gulps deeply, his eye shifting to the figure behind her. A person dressed in dark clothes holds a knife, their finger flicking over the edge of the blade, a menacing smirk on their face. A glint shines in their eyes, their black hair slicked back.
"No va a hablar, Sirena. Se nos está acabando el tiempo," they sneer.
The green-eyed woman glances back to her companion. "Muerte, you are too impatient." She turns back to him, a smile on her face that doesn't reach her eyes. It's almost predatorial, "You must forgive my friend. Once their blade has tasted blood... well."
She stands, tossing the braid of her golden hair over her shoulder, holding her hands out as if there is nothing she can really do.
The man starts violently shaking, the realization of her words hitting him. His chair scrapes against the floor, the sound loud in the emptiness, like a scream he cannot release.
"P-please, d-don't k-kill me."
"Mr. Harris, I am insulted. We just want to have a conversation."
His heartbeat pounds in his ears, drowning out reason. The man still says nothing. The golden-haired woman turns her head to her partner, and they exchange a silent look.
The tension between them is a noose tightening. He takes the opportunity to make a run for it, his hands only loosely bound.
His footsteps thunder across the concrete, but he does not get far before the dark-haired figure, Muerte, is in front of him. It is as if the shadows themselves delivered them. He feels a hand on his shoulder and turns to see the green eyes.
"Who are you people?"
"Why, Mr. Harris... I'm the Siren. This is Muerte."
The man's eyes widen in fear. He knows those names. In his circle, they are names of legend in the underground. If you are ever unlucky enough to meet either the Siren or Muerte, you will never be heard from again.
Usually, the warning comes when you meet the Gentleman. You know you only have a little bit of time to prepare, maybe to get away but not many do. But this time, there was no warning. No Gentleman. Only the song and death that follow.
Chapter 2
Summary:
Ed is eager to meet the Bonnets, though it may be more than business drawing him in. His first meeting with Stede is anything but conventional, leaving Izzy predictably furious and Stede surprised by how easy it all feels. Later, a nightly call with Charlotte brings laughter and comfort, but also a hint of worry that Stede can’t ignore.
Notes:
Oh gosh, this one is longer. There was a lot I wanted to get into this chapter to get us going.
I really hope y'all are enjoying this. There is going to be some build here, some drama. Then we get to some very gut wrenching parts, bit of action.
It's going to be a ride, I just hope you like it.
Since I find myself with quite a bit of time on my hands while I am between jobs (yay, working in marketing right now is a hazard) I am going to be writing when I can to fill some time.
Enjoy, comments are so very welcome.
Chapter Text
Edward Teach was bored.
Choosing which companies his team worked with had become a game in itself. Their reputation alone was enough to guarantee money, obscene sums, really, because the mere fact of being able to say we worked with Blackbeard sent a shockwave through boardrooms. Competitors panicked, investors calmed, and rivals folded without a fight. But for Teach, it wasn’t even a challenge anymore.
They had consulted on every type of matter imaginable. Hostile takeovers, global partnerships, political lobbying, supply chain restructuring, asset protection, crisis response, even the occasional PR cleanup. There was no problem too delicate, no negotiation too cutthroat, no market too volatile for Blackbeard’s crew to sink their teeth into. And every time, without fail, they delivered results. The white flag and surrender were almost immediate.
The thrill of risk had dulled. The world whispered about Blackbeard Consultants as if they were legends, but to Ed, it felt like playing the same game of chess against weaker and weaker opponents. The board was the same, the pieces the same, and he always won. He hated it. He was a master tactician damn it.
He enjoyed the planning out the strategy, anticipating each potential move his opponent might make, plotting out the moves that they would make, the art of it. The theater of it all. The fuckery. But everyone just fucking gave up.
That was why the BonaBon and Red Flag partnership caught his eye. It wasn’t just another contract. It was uncharted territory for a rising company willing to bet its future on the global stage.
Not only that, the letter he received requesting that he consider taking on the contract to work with BonaBon was handwritten on stationary. Who does that anymore? It was a lovely handwritting. Signed, S. Bonnet
The real reason it intrigued him, however, was the owners themselves. Stede and Charlotte Bonnet were mysterious in ways that unsettled and fascinated him. He usually had his team do some research on the owners or leadership of the companies who reached out. But he undertook the research himself. He couldn't find much on Stede, but he found quite a bit about Charlotte.
Daughter of the Home Secretary. Holy fuck on that. Clearly, all her work was a big fuck you to her old man. He could admire that, actually all their work was a fuck you to both of their fathers from what he could tell.
He found a few articles where she was interviewed, talked about being a co-founder of BonaBon. It seemed she was the face of their company, taking the lead on any of the interviews. Her work she does with her husband, but mostly about the philanthropic work they do. Then he found the photos of her. It was her striking green eyes that mesmerized him.
She had golden almost flaxen hair, a strong chin. She held herself with a confidence that was slightly intimidating, but there was something else about her that drew him in. Sure, Ed is bisexual so he found her very attractive. Even maybe was having a little crush moment.
But it was the photo he found in another magazine of Charlotte and her husband that almost knocked the air out of his lungs. There standing behind his wife, was a refrigerator of a man. Hazel eyes with the most golden swooping hair he had ever seen. The word adonis came to mind, built like one of those old timey muscle men. He was gorgeous. The smile, fuck. He thought his crush on Charlotte was bad. The pair of them together was like looking at the sun.
He had gathered some underground rumors about the couple. Murmurs that they had ties to deep government agencies or that they were the head of a deep criminal organization. He found both concepts rather humorous. No, what intrigued him most was the rumor of their marriage being a front, a facade. If so, considering everything he read about the couple having been married for over fifteen years, both in their thirties, that's quite the extended charade if you asked him.
Even more curious is that their company has a reputation for doing things differently in the logistics and security industry, especially considering the company has only been around for six years. Not only that the fact they pay their staff generous salaries, benefits, and rumor has it that they provide ridiculous severance packages should they part ways with an employee if the fit just isnt' right. And then there was their ambition.
Of all the possible targets, they had set their sights on Red Flag, a company notorious for ruthless leadership. It was bold, almost reckless. Ambitious, yes, but in Ed’s mind only a lunatic would chase a deal like that, especially one as young as their's. Which made him curious to see if the Bonnets were visionaries, fools, or something far more dangerous.
He knows the reputation of Red Flag's CEO. She is not one to just raise the white flag and surrender. It would be a challenge.
Izzy burst into Ed’s office without knocking, his face dark with fury. "Are you fucking kidding me, Edward? You signed the contract?"
He leaned back in his chair, a smirk tugging at his lips he misses his longer beard. It used to hide his reactions, but it got to be too much after all these years, "Good morning to you, too."
"Don’t fucking good morning me, twat," Izzy snapped, pacing across the room.
"This whole thing stinks of risk. The money might be good, sure because the fucking Bonnets have more money than sense, but with Red Flag’s reputation it’s almost guaranteed to fail. And you’ve tied our name to it."
He jabbed a finger at Ed's desk. "The fucking Bonnets are nothing more than rich ponces throwing money around. When this goes under, and it fucking will, it’s going to drag Blackbeard down with it along with our reputation."
Ed chuckled softly. "Calm down, Iz. You’ve no sense of adventure. This isn’t just about the money. It’s about the challenge."
Izzy’s eyes narrowed. "A challenge? Are you fucking kidding me, you are risking everything we have building for a challenge?"
"It’s been too long since we’ve had something to truly test us," Ed said, unbothered. He spread his hands as if daring Izzy to argue. "And that makes it worth the gamble."
Izzy growls, "When this fails, don't think I won't tell you that I told you so."
He slammed the door as he left the room.
Stede, Lucius, and Oluwande waited in the lobby for the arrival of the Blackbeard crew. Olu had already recommended against letting Pete from security attend, Pete was far too enthusiastic, practically starstruck, and claimed he had once worked with Blackbeard before joining BonaBon.
While Lucius found the idea charming, Olu found it irritating. Stede, too busy to argue, simply left the security details in Olu’s capable hands, especially with Jim offsite alongside Charlotte.
Stede’s nerves were impossible to ignore. Blackbeard Consultants carried a reputation that preceded them, a mixture of awe and menace. Charlotte had left him a detailed dossier on the team, but reading about them was different from facing them. This was such a monumental step for BonaBon.
The Red Flag partnership was ambitious, even reckless. He and Charlotte had lived through gunfire and interrogations as agents, but this felt heavier, more personal. Now the lives affected were those closest to them, their employees, their crew who were the closest thing they had to a family.
“Well hellooooo, Leather Daddies,” Lucius muttered under his breath.
Stede gave him a sharp look, confusion knitting his brow, but his assistant’s gaze drew him forward. Stede followed it, and his breath caught. Leading the group was the most striking man he had ever seen. Tall, lean, skin glowing tawny beneath the light, long black hair streaked with silver pulled back just enough to reveal a salt-and-pepper beard cropped close.
His brown eyes were deep and arresting. He wore a perfectly tailored suit jacket that gleamed midnight black. The cut of his trousers and boots left no mistake, this was a man who carried authority like armor.
Beside him walked a shorter man with a pinched, sour expression, hair slicked back and marked with a scar in the shape of an X. He was handsome in his own right, but he looked angry. His white and black goatee framed a mouth already scowling.
Behind them loomed two more figures; one, half his head shaved with the other side plaited in braids, the other broad and slightly balding with a long white beard that gave him the look of a jolly giant, but with eyes that betrayed menace.
But Stede barely noticed. His focus was locked on those brown eyes. He was entranced. He only realized he was staring when Lucius nudged him subtly.
“Ah, yes,” Stede stammered, clearing his throat. “Welcome to BonaBon. I am Stede Bonnet. We are very excited you are here.”
He extended his hand to the man with the brown eyes. The smile that greeted him was devastating, and the warmth of the handshake nearly made him forget to let go.
“Edward Teach.”
“Fab,” was all Stede managed, with a slight airy breath. He could practically hear Lucius rolling his eyes at his side. The shorter man growled softly in irritation.
“This is Israel Hands, Director of Operations,” Edward said with a nod toward the scowling man. He turned to gesture at the bearded figure. “Kevin Fane, though he goes by Fang. Senior Consultant, tactical oversight and corporate protection.”
Fang lifted his hand and wiggled his fingers in an oddly cheerful greeting.
“And this is Ivan Khan,” Edward continued. “Head of Logistics. He oversees systems, assets, and global supply strategy.”
Edward’s gaze flicked back to Stede, who found himself caught once more in those eyes.
“Of course, as you know, we offer other services as well. We have a wide network of partners. But this is the core team who will be working with you and your team.”
Stede stood silent a beat too long, caught in the moment, until Olu stepped forward smoothly.
“Oluwande Boodhari, Senior Project Manager. I’ll be working directly with your team. Our Director of Security, Jim Jimenez, is currently offsite, but I have your temporary security passes here.”
He handed each consultant their badge. “When Jim returns, you’ll be issued permanent credentials.”
Stede quickly clapped his hands together, regaining some composure. “And this is Lucius Spriggs, assistant to myself and Charlotte. She regrets not being here today, she’s in Liverpool meeting with a client. She should return later this week. I have no doubt, she will be very excited to make your acquaintance.”
Edward’s smile broadened. “Business happens. I look forward to meeting her.”
“Well,” Stede said brightly, “a tour is in order.”
The group moved through the building, Oluwande guiding them with calm authority. Somewhere along the way, Stede and Edward drifted into their own conversation, speaking about the building’s design and custom construction. Eventually losing the others.
“It’s mid-century modern at heart, but I wanted to add a touch of old world luxury,” Stede explained enthusiastically. “Walnut paneling paired with glass walls, clean geometric lines softened by velvet seating and brass fixtures. The stairwells were even modeled after a 1960s ocean liner. And the boardroom chandelier? Imported from an estate sale in Bath. I rather like the story of it finding a new home here.”
Edward gave a low chuckle. “You’ve got an eye for detail. Most men your position wouldn’t bother with things like stairwells and chandeliers.”
Stede smiled, a little bashful. “Well, I think it matters. If people feel surrounded by beauty and thoughtfulness, they work differently. They carry themselves differently. I can't take all the credit, the stairwells were Charlotte's design. I think the design of the building is a fair reflection of the two of our personalities.”
Edward tilted his head, studying him with keen interest.
By the time they reached the top floor, Stede was showing him their offices, including a pair of empty rooms reserved for possible leadership expansion.
Edward’s eyes widened as they stepped into Stede’s personal office, a grand space filled with shelves upon shelves of books, a fireplace, and not one but two chandeliers glittering overhead.
Edward laughed, shaking his head. “Two chandeliers? That’s overkill. You’re a lunatic, and I like it.”
Stede blinked, taken aback, before breaking into a broad smile.
Edward wandered toward the velvet sofa, running his fingers over the throw draped across it. He lifted it, rubbing it against his face. “Is this silk?”
“Oh no,” Stede replied proudly. “It’s actually a rather exquisite cashmere.”
“A rather exquisite cashmere,” Edward repeated softly, as if savoring the words.
“Oh, do you fancy a fine fabric, Ed?” Stede asked.
Edward looked back at him with a grin. “I suppose I do.”
Stede’s eyes lit up. “Well then, you’ll love this.” He crossed to one of the shelves, tilted down a small mannequin, and part of the wall clicked open to reveal a hidden room.
Edward gasped as Stede’s smile widened. “This is my office auxiliary wardrobe. I keep a small one with shirts and ties for the odd mishap, but this, well, this gives me a few options if I need to adjust my look or if there’s a late night gala. You would be surprised how often we have the sudden affair we need to attend. While we have the penthouse nearby, our house is a bit of a drive. It's just easier to make use of the wardrobe here.”
Edward stepped inside, eyes wide as he took in the racks of clothes, shoes, belts, and watches, the plush seating and three-way mirror. It looked more like a high-end men’s boutique than a hidden space.
“Charlotte has her own hidden wardrobe,” Stede added proudly. “She protested at first, but she secretly loves it.”
For a moment, Stede worried when Edward didn’t respond. But then Edward caught his gaze and smiled. “You’ve got it all sussed out, mate. Who does this? Hidden wardrobes. Fireplaces. Chandeliers.”
“Well,” Stede began, but before he could falter Edward grinned wider.
“It’s the best thing I’ve seen in a long time. Want to do something weird?”
Moments later, they emerged having swapped outfits.
Stede now dressed in Edward’s sharp suit, Edward in a flamboyant teal ensemble Stede had chosen. They hurried toward the elevators, laughter and giggles bubbling between them like two school aged children.
On the floor below, Izzy was already grumbling about Edward’s absence, unimpressed with the BonaBon staff making small talk. His scowl deepened as the elevator dinged and opened to reveal Edward strutting out in the brightest teal suit imaginable, followed by Stede in Edward’s tailored black.
“What the actual fuck,” Izzy barked as everyone turned in shock.
“Hello, Blackbeard and BonaBon crew,” Edward announced grandly, prancing forward with a wide grin. A few additonal members of the BonaBon crew had joined. Frenchie, Wee John, and the Swede having met up with the group ready for the introductory meeting to meet the consultants and review the project objectives. Everyone just stared wide-eyed.
Wee John leaned over to Lucius, whispering, “What the hell is happening?”
“I have no fucking clue,” Lucius muttered.
“May I present to you all, Blackbeard,” Ed said with an exaggerated flair presenting Stede who just waved with a big smile.
"Hello all."
Izzy growled angrily, "What the fuck, Edward. Are you fucking kidding me right now?"
Edward giggled. “Oh, calm down, Iz.”
“Calm down? You want me to calm down?” Izzy snapped, his face darkening.
Edward waved a hand, dismissive.
“I think they’re so impressed they’re at a loss for words, mate. We should get down to business, yeah?” He leaned in to whisper to Stede.
Stede chuckled and nodded. “Yes, I suppose we should."
"Lucius, why don’t you show everyone to the conference room?" He called out then addressed the rest of the group, "I believe the refreshments should be ready.”
Edward walked alongside Stede toward the conference room. Both of them still grinning.
Later that night, Stede lay back in his bed, the phone pressed to his ear. He and Charlotte had kept up the tradition of their nightly calls since university, whenever work or travel pulled them apart. Even during their years as agents, when assignments sent them to remote or confidential corners of the world, they tried whenever possible. It was a habit that had never left them.
Charlotte’s voice was warm and familiar, recounting the details of her day. She spoke about the deal she was brokering with their client, then shifted to lighter stories, an antique shop she had visited with Jim, the extraordinary piece she had found, and how she was having it sent home.
She confessed it as a surprise for Stede, though she could never resist spoiling her own plans. Stede smiled to himself; he loved that about her.
Then her tone shifted. “So, tell me. How was your first day with the Blackbeard crew?”
Stede hesitated. He had never felt nervous speaking to Charlotte before. But something about Edward Teach lingered in his chest, unsettling and strangely familiar, as though he were back at that first spark of meeting Charlotte herself. He drew in a steady breath before answering.
“They’re… quite something. Ed is charming, almost disarmingly so. Israel Hands, I don't really care for him much, is every bit as rude as his reputation suggests. Ivan seems nice, though quiet. Fang is oddly cheerful, not what I expected. We toured the building. I even showed Ed the wardrobe.”
“The wardrobe?” Charlotte sounded stunned. “What did he think?”
Stede recounted Edward’s reaction, the wide-eyed excitement, the laughter, and then the clothes swap. Silence stretched across the line.
His nerves twisted until suddenly Charlotte burst into loud laughter that sounded like it was far from the phone, a string of Spanish curses tumbling from a distance. He heard her muffled voice assuring Jim she was fine, followed by another string of curses and a soft goodnight.
Her laughter returned, "I scared Jim, they thought I was being attacked," she said with a snort.
Her giggles quieter now, closer to the phone. “Oh, Stede, what I would give to have seen that. From what you describe, it must have been quite the scene. What did the crew say?”
Relieved, Stede laughed with her, recounting their wide-eyed reactions and Izzy’s outburst. Charlotte laughed again, saying she couldn’t wait to hear Lucius’s version of the story. The knot in his chest loosened.
She sighed softly. “Stede, love, it sounds like you and Ed got on well.”
“Yes. He’s very easy to talk to. Honestly, he let me ramble on about the building’s design. He actually seemed interested instead of bored. It felt like talking to you, honestly.”
“I look forward to meeting him,” Charlotte replied. Her tone was warm, reassuring, but something beneath it still left him uneasy.
“Would you like me to read to you tonight, my moon?”
“Not tonight, sunshine. We had an early morning because I wanted to get a run in before the meeting. You know me. Tomorrow will be long, they want to give us a tour of the facilities. But I’ll be home soon, and you can read to me properly then.”
“Of course, darling. Sleep well. Missing you”
“Sleep well, love. Missing you.”
They hung up. Stede set the phone aside on the bedside table, the unease creeping back.
Charlotte had sounded like herself, yet he knew her too well. Even if he had never been trained as an MI5 special agent, he would have recognized it...something was off.
He sighed, his eyes drifting to the empty side of the bed. He frowned slightly, wondering if her nightmares had returned.
If they had, it meant she might be sleepwalking again. But it sounded like Jim was in an adjoining room, as was their usual when Charlotte was doing well. Of course, Jim could always leave the door open between the rooms.
Charlotte never liked to talk about it when they returned, not even after all these years. Perhaps Jim would tell him if she was sleepwalking. Jim cared for Charlotte as fiercely as he did, after all. They had worked together nearly nine years, side by side after Jim was first recruited into MI5.
For now, there was nothing he could do. He had to trust that she was safe, and that when she came home, they could talk it through. He lay back, staring at the ceiling, waiting for the comfort of sleep.
Chapter 3
Summary:
Charlotte is unexpectedly summoned to London. Setting Stede and Jim on edge. What was supposed to be only a few days turns into far longer than planned. Stede and Ed grow closer in their friendship. Apparently, the shitty father's club has three new members.
Notes:
I have been on a writing tear since I have decided to get this story out of my head. You should see the notes app on my phone. It's insane how much of this story is sort of fleshed out (several scenes/chapters quite a ways out).
Today, I have written two chapters for you. Only because what I wrote today was very long and it felt better to break it into two. I trimmed it down some into pieces because I want to get to some of the bigger plot drivers of the story.
Also, in this story you may be piecing together that Jim is very close to Charlotte & Stede. I am doing my best on the spanish. Muerte is closest I came up with to gender neutral for their bad-ass special agent name.
For the record, this is an AU. Making up some history. Because the actual Home Secretary at the time was Reginald Maulding (so not too far off).
This is a bond-esque kind of world, there will be some tech and gadgets that may not have existed in the 70s because it's fun like that.
Updating tags as I go, because they come to me as I write this out and I am like "oh, might need that tag."
Chapter Text
It was late in the afternoon when the intercom on Stede’s desk buzzed. He looked up from the quarterly reports spread out before him.
“Yes, Lucius?”
“Captain, listen… it’s Charlotte. She’s on the line for you. Just—she doesn’t sound very happy.”
Stede frowned at the clock. Just past two. He hadn’t expected to hear from her until later that evening for their usual call. “What makes you say that?”
“The tone, Stede. Sharp. And don’t think I don’t know when Char’s unhappy. This is the woman I have Sunday mimosas with weekly.”
“You’d have daily mimosas if you could. Put her through.”
The phone rang once before Stede picked up, pulse rising.
“Darling, this is unexpected.”
He heard her breath softly against the receiver, the sound telling him this wasn’t good news. She never tried to hide from him, not after the promise they’d made years ago.
“You’re going to hate this, Stede,” she said quietly, softly. “There’s been a change of plans. I’ve been called to London.”
His grip on the phone tightened. “When?”
“Leaving today. This is a secure line. Home Office. The Director called me in about the recent contract. And my father, of course, heard through Whitehall and insists I come to the house for dinner.”
The final word carried the weight of a curse. He knew that it wouldn't just be dinner. It was never as easy as just coming for dinner with Reginald Stuart.
“Of course he did, because he knows I won’t be with you.”
“I don’t know how long I’ll be away,” she sighed. “Once I’m at the house, you know how he gets. He finds ways to keep me there, to parade me around.”
“Say the word and I’ll be there,” Stede said firmly. “That bastard needs to leave us alone. At least Jim will be there with you.”
It wasn't a question. Silence. It stretched too long. Now he was worried.
“Charlotte. At least Jim will be with you..”
Now it was a question.
“We need Jim at the office. You and I both know it. The Blackbeard crew may be some of the best, but we don’t know them. I feel better with Jim there, just in case.”
Stede swallowed his frustration. He was rarely angry, but when it came to her father, it rose from somewhere deep within.
“I don’t think that’s necessary. I think we are perfectly capable of handling things here at the office," he said with a sharp tone.
“Stede Bartholomew Bonnet, don’t get snippy with me. I hate this too. But the crew comes first.”
He unclenched his fist, noticing the crescent marks his nails had left in his palm. “Please come home soon. Don’t let him keep you. Easier said than done, I know. But I’ll come for you if I must.”
“I know, sunshine. Jim will be there tomorrow. Trust me. They’re just as upset as you are.”
“I love you. Miss you. Be safe.”
“And I you. Always.”
They said their goodbyes. When the line clicked dead, Stede sat back, unease gnawing at him. Reginald Stuart was a bastard. Always had been.
A knock at his door startled him. He quickly wiped his eyes and composed himself. “Come in.”
Edward peeked in, smiling. “Hey, mate. Not disturbing anything, am I?”
Stede cleared his throat, forcing a smile. “Not at all.”
Ed’s smile faltered as he stepped closer. “What’s wrong?”
“Charlotte’s been called to London,” Stede admitted. “Her father…” He trailed off, unwilling to spill family drama. “Was hoping to have her home sooner.”
“You don’t seem too keen on a sudden family visit?” Ed asked gently, trying to read Stede’s expression.
“I’d hardly call it a family visit. More like she was summoned.” Stede’s voice caught with frustration, his fingers drumming against the desk.
“You mean the Home Secretary? Real piece of work,” Ed said, his usual grin dimming.
“Understatement. He’s controlling. We’ve done our best to keep him away, but sometimes he forces his way in.” Stede rubbed his temple, his composure slipping.
“Normally I’d go with her, but this time…” He exhaled slowly, the breath shaky. “This time she’s alone.”
“That’s bad?” Ed’s brow furrowed, the question careful.
“You have no idea,” Stede admitted, his voice low. “Charlotte can handle herself, it isn’t that. It’s him. He knows how to get under her skin, twist her, make her doubt.”
Ed’s jaw tightened and he nodded knowingly. “I get it. Shitty fathers. Know a thing or two about that.”
Stede looked up, surprised by the softness in Ed’s tone. “I’m sorry you have that knowledge. No one should.”
Ed gave a small, almost self-conscious shrug. “Guess that makes the three of us part of the shitty father club.” His smile was wry, but his eyes betrayed the weight behind the words.
Stede’s lips curved in a faint, reluctant smile. “I suppose it does.”
For a moment, silence hung between them, heavy but not uncomfortable. Stede was grateful to have someone here who understood. It felt like he was gaining a new friend. It felt nice, warm. It didn't dull his worry about Charlotte, but he did find some comfort in Ed's company.
That night, Stede and Charlotte kept to their nightly call. She stayed at The Savoy, she told him that she spoke to the manager that her Father's staff might cut her reservation short. The manager was all too accomodating and understanding. She was equally relieved and appalled.
The thought of Reginald’s hand interfering made Stede bristle with anger. He asked after her day they talked and laughed. Bringing a sense of ease to their evening. They both pretended for a few minutes that life was normal.
Stede opened their book, The Count of Monte Cristo, his voice softening as he read passages aloud. Her breathing slowed as she listened, and for a moment he could imagine she was beside him again.
They lingered over their goodnights, both reluctant to hang up. She promised to call again, if she could, and he whispered his love one more time before the line went silent.
The next morning, Jim was waiting for Stede standing in his office. Their presence was steady, intimidating to most, but Stede could see the tension in their eyes.
Lucius rattled through the daily diary, casting wary glances at Jim standing like a stormcloud nearby. He rushed from the room the moment he finished. Stede leaned back, fixing Jim with a calm look.
“Let it out before you give the whole office a heart attack.” Stede’s tone was calm, but his eyes flicked over Jim’s taut posture, the way their jaw clenched like they were holding back an explosion.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jim’s voice was low, dangerous, like a growl just beneath the surface.
“The energy you’re giving off.” Stede leaned back, steepling his fingers. He offered a half-smile to soften the sting. “Lucius would say…”
The intercom crackled to life. “Murdery, Stede. I’d say murdery.”
“Lucius!” Stede barked, sitting forward. “Stop listening in!”
Jim’s glare snapped toward the door. They raised their voice so it carried. “I’m going to kill you, cabrón.” A muffled yelp sounded from the hall.
Stede sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Yes, murdery.”
Jim finally slumped into the chair across from him, their shoulders sagging with pent-up frustration. “Viejo, you know why.”
“I told her not to send you back,” Stede said softly, watching the way Jim’s eyes flickered with guilt.
“She said the same thing she always does. Protege a nuestra tripulación, ellos son nuestra familia.” The words came out strained, as if repeating them cost Jim more than they cared to admit.
“Not in those words, but yes.” Stede gave a small nod of understanding.
Jim rubbed their eyes, fingers dragging across their face. “This Red Flag deal, she wants to be here. She knows it’s in good hands, but she worries she’s not doing enough. She always worries.”
“I know she does. I told her I’d come for her if it went on too long,” Stede said, his voice firmer now, conviction threading through his weariness. “Her father be damned.”
Jim’s head lifted, meeting his gaze with a steel determination, a promise, “I’ll go with you.”
Stede held the stare for a long moment before nodding, a flicker of relief breaking through his tight expression. “I know. I’m counting on it. But for now, let’s see to these consultants. They need their credentials and an introduction to our Director of Security and Ops.”
Jim drew in a deep breath, then straightened in their chair, posture snapping back into the calm, lethal professionalism everyone else saw.
“Sure thing, Captain. Anything else I should know?”
“That Iggy fellow is a real arse.”
“Noted.”
Jim met the Blackbeard crew.
Blackbeard was charming. They didn't trust charming. Israel, not Iggy, they snorted internally. God, Captain was such a bitch. Was very much an "arse" as captain said. They didn't hate that. Fang and Ivan, they looked like they might know their stuff. Nothing immediately stood out as a threat or worry. Jim had done some deep digging into all of their backgrounds as soon as Charlotte had mentioned her interest in hiring them.
They all had criminal backgrounds. But who didn't in their line of work. Jim wasn't one to judge. Most of the charges were fairly old, nothing that would raise the alarm.
It wasn't until Jim saw Ed interact with Captain that they grew suspicious. It wasn't that there was a friendly ease in their interactions. No, that was nice to see. Stede deserved to have friends. It was the look in Blackbeards eyes when he wasn't looking. Now that was what set Jim on edge. It wasn't any of their concern what went on between Charlotte and Stede's relationship. That was up to them to determine. Their marriage and relationship boundaries was a matter completely different. But Jim, well they were very protective of the people they care about. So, that look was either predatory for one of two reasons. They were going to be on the lookout regardless.
They could tell Lucius noticed too, though he only smirked behind his pen or made quiet remarks under his breath. Of course, Lucius was a fucking gossip. Charlotte had already told Jim about the whole clothing swap thing the day the Blackbeard crew arrived, and that alone made them wary. Sure, the Captain was strange. In the early days, it had taken awhile for Jim to warm up to Stede.
Madrina had been eccentric in her own way too, and honestly that was what drew Jim to her. Charlotte, though, something about her had always felt safe. When they got to know Stede more, that sense of safety was felt with him. Like something that had been missing in their life.
Now, after years together, Jim would protect the two of them with their life.
Their own path to MI5 had been far from typical. Raised in a Catholic school run by their Nana after their parents were murdered young, Jim’s upbringing was anything but conventional. They discovered both a penchant for knife work and a knack for slipping into systems they had no business entering.
One in particular involving a Cuban and Soviet operative sting. They nearly got away clean, but an MI6 officer crossed their path.
Days later, they were sitting in London, offered a stark choice: a scholarship to work with MI5 or a nameless European prison cell. Jim didn’t hesitate.
It wasn’t long after that they met Charlotte. Maybe she had arranged their assignment, maybe Stede had. They strongly suspected that it had been Captain. They never asked. They didn’t care. It worked.
Nearly nine years later, Jim was still fiercely protective of the two weirdos they called family. Sometimes, privately, they thought of them like parents. It was the closest thing they’d had outside of their Nana. Now they had Olu, too. And the crew. But Ed and his consultants? Jim kept their eyes open.
Chapter 4
Summary:
Stede and Ed's friendship continues to grow. As they become closer, Izzy becomes angrier. Sure that Stede is going to be Blackbeard's ruin.
Charlotte finally returns to the office after two weeks in London dealing with her overbearing father. Now that she is back in office, she is finally going to meet Edward Teach. But their first meeting doesn't go very well (at first).
Notes:
Here is the rest of what I wrote today, that I had to split into another chapter. Also, had to give Pete some love...he tries so hard.
I should go back for what I was thinking for Ed and Stede's outfits from their swap, might do at some point. At the end of this chapter, I did put links for the inspo for Charlotte's outfit and hair.
Chapter Text
Stede was struggling with Charlotte's absence. He threw himself into work with the Blackbeard consultants, relying heavily on Olu to take point so things stayed on track. When Charlotte managed to call, which was rare, he kept her updated, but more than that, he focused on her.
He knew what being with Reginald meant, how dangerous and corrosive it was for her mental health.
Her father had always been emotionally abusive, especially after her mother’s death. Reginald had twisted Charlotte’s childhood into endless drills, calling it training, but it was punishment.
She was made to endure lessons in poise, etiquette, deportment, all the things a lady of status was meant to know. In his mind she had to be the perfect woman, someone who could protect her husband with grace, charm, and loyalty, but also bend to his will. Behind the polite exterior, he wanted her to be a perfect aristocratic wife and a perfect figurehead agent.
Tutors instead of friends. Lockups for disobedience. Starvation when she resisted. Interrogations staged to break her will. His cruelty was framed as discipline, but it was control. He intended her to be polished, admired at a distance, never respected for her own merit, and then married off to the highest bidder. The thought of it all turned Stede’s stomach whenever he let himself dwell on it.
It lasted until she found one small act of rebellion. When the time came to enter university, Reginald had arranged Oxford. Instead, she switched her enrollment to Cambridge without his permission. The fury was unlike anything she had seen from him, but somehow she managed to stay.
It was there, at Cambridge, that she finally began to breathe and where she met Stede. For the first time in her life she found someone who looked at her not as a product of training or manipulation, but as herself.
So now, when Stede spoke to her, he did not burden her with Red Flag or office details. The team and the crew had everything under control. His priority was her, her well-being, her safety, her freedom, getting her home.
Every call, every word he spoke was meant to steady her, to remind her that she was more than Reginald’s creation, that she had built something stronger, and that she had someone waiting who loved her for who she truly was.
They were in the middle of a planning meeting for the Red Flag presentation. Papers and charts were spread across the table, Olu and Frenchie talking quietly with Ed at the far end about logistics. Stede found himself staring, longer than he should have, at the way Ed leaned in, listening with intensity, that flash of a smile when he found something amusing.
“Captain,” Lucius’s voice cut in suddenly, making Stede jump. He had appeared at his elbow with a page in hand. “Is that ‘censor’ or ‘sensor’? You know how Charlotte writes her s’s and c’s. I’ve begged her to stop signing things as C. Bonnet. It looks like S. Bonnet when she isn’t paying attention.”
Stede frowned at the paper, blinking, while Lucius smirked knowingly. “Don’t start,” Stede muttered, trying to cover how rattled he’d been.
Lucius leaned closer, lowering his voice. “I’m just saying, I saw you staring. You and Ed…”
Stede stiffened. “He’s just friendly,” he said quickly, but it sounded half-hearted even to his own ears.
Lucius raised a brow, clearly unconvinced, but let it drop with a smug smile. The meeting pressed on, stretching well into the afternoon. Timelines, budgets, and task lists were debated across the table.
Every so often Ed would cut in with a sharp insight, and Stede found himself listening to him more closely than anyone else, nodding along, the two of them occasionally sharing a quiet word or a brief smile. It was easy, far too easy, and more than once Stede caught Lucius watching him with a knowing look.
From their place near the back, Jim watched the exchange with a tight jaw. And on the other side of the room, Izzy sat brooding, his expression sharp with irritation. To him, Stede Fucking Bonnet was a distraction Blackbeard didn’t need.
A few days later, another meeting stretched late into the evening. This time, Stede and Ed were bent over the same spreadsheet, shoulders nearly brushing as they went line by line through the numbers.
Their conversation slipped between businesslike precision and easy jokes, the kind of shorthand that only came with comfort.
Their eyes would me lingering too long, until a pointed question from Olu jarred them apart. Both cleared their throats, fumbling back to the business at hand while Lucius smirked openly from across the table. The discussion carried on about next steps and gaps that still needed covering, but the air between Stede and Ed buzzed with something unspoken.
Izzy was watching closely, his scowl deepened with every glance traded between Stede and Ed. By the time the meeting adjourned he was seething ready to pounce on Ed.
When the room emptied, Izzy cornered Ed in the hallway. “What the fuck are you doing?” he demanded.
Ed blinked, caught off guard. “What are you talking about?”
“Stede Fucking Bonnet is a distraction. I can see it. He’s getting into your head. You need to focus on the job, not the twat!”
Ed’s eyes hardened. “No one’s in my head. So what if we get on well? It’s nice to work with someone easy to talk to.”
“Fun? You’re Blackbeard. You need to focus on the fucking project,” Izzy hissed. “This is serious. If this doesn’t go through it will ruin Blackbeard’s reputation.”
“Calm down. It’s fine," rolling his eyes, god Izzy was so wound tight. Ed swore one of these days, Izzy was just going to keel over.
Izzy stepped closer, his voice low and sharp. “I know what you’re doing, Edward. He’s fucking married.”
Ed froze for a beat raising to his full height hovering over Izzy giving him a look that could cut steel. “Don’t.”
Izzy was not about to back down, he sneered baring his teeth, “Don’t think I don’t see it. That the others don’t see it."
“Fuck off,” Ed growled. “We get on. Don’t be a prick, Iz.”
He walked away without another word, leaving Izzy seething in the corridor, certain that Stede Fucking Bonnet would be the death of them all.
As the days drew on, so did their friendship. Stede found himself having lunches with Ed. Seeking him out. When Ed wasn't in Stede's office, Stede was in his. Or they were in the conference room. Of course, that was unless one of them had another meeting. Their conversations drifted between Stede's favorite topics to Ed's collection of vinyls.
Or how he liked to take his motorcycle out on the countryside for a drive. Talked about how he had left it back in London in a garage of a friend. Stede suggested that he should have it brought here. He could store it at the house in Lichfield, even drive it out there. Plenty of countryside to ride.
A growing friendship. Companionship. Certainly, from Edward's perspective a growing troublesome crush. Fuck his life.
Almost two weeks passed before Charlotte finally returned to the office, gone longer than expected. It wasn't as bad as it had been in past or as it could have been.
She managed to call a few times in that span, calming both Stede and Jim down whenever they so much as hinted at mounting an extraction. Her conversations with Stede a balm. Conversations with Jim, well enlightening. Her husband had a made a friend, it made her happy. A very good friend, apparently. This she had to see for herself.
Her father had kept her close, hosting endless dinners, parading her like a prize. He had introduced her to eligible bachelors, all conveniently successful, titled, and unmarried. He dismissed her marriage to Stede with cruel wave-offs, made barbed comments about their lack of children, even mocked their company’s success in Birmingham.
“Novel,” he called it. Charlotte had fumed in silence, but she would never admit it over the phone to Stede. He didn't need to worry about any of it.
When she returned, she made sure she did so in style. Tight, tailored bell-bottom trousers, Prada wedges, a fitted jacket in deep amethyst hugging her waist. A lilac silk blouse a few buttons undone to let the collar flair open for a dramatic affect, a bright green and yellow patterned cashmere scarf tied around her throat. Her husband had great taste in fashion, the thought made her smile.
Her hair was swept up in a loose bun, her curtain bangs falling soft around her face. She looked every bit the force she was.
The staff straightened as she passed through security. Buttons, their very odd driver who often bathed naked in their garden during the full moon, followed with Karl the seagull perched casually atop his head. “Lady, will you be returning to the penthouse or main house today?” he asked.
“Main house, Buttons. I will see you and Karl later."
He nodded. Karl squawked.
Pete beamed from his desk as he scurried to greet her personally, “Mrs. Bonnet, welcome back.”
“Morning, Pete. I see you really made the new uniform shirt your own. Very stylish,” Her eyes lingered on his sleeveless attire.
Pete puffed out his chest. “Wee John helped. Easier to move. Nimble. Let's me be ready for action."
He proceeded to demonstrate with a few karate chops with all the enthusiasm of a man who watched a lot of Bruce Lee action films. It was oddly charming.
She grinned. “Fab, good to know we are in such capable hands. It looks good, so very you," she started to walk towards the elevator then turned back," Oh Pete, you’ll be at the barbecue this weekend with Lucius?”
“Yes!” he shouted, eyes bright. “Thank you for inviting me.”
“Of course, you’re part of the crew,” she reminded him with a smile before heading to the elevators, leaving Pete nearly glowing with pride.
The ride up to the top floor felt long. She noticed Lucius wasn’t at his desk when she passed through. He was either gossiping somewhere, because he was certainly not snogging Pete in a closet or stairwell since she had just seen Pete. Or he might actually be doing his job. No, probably off gossiping. Shaking her head with a small smile she went into her office.
Charlotte settled into her chair, debating wether she should make a cup of tea or wait until her wayward assistant returns to fetch her a cup of coffee.
This felt nice, being home. She felt lighter. Too much time at her father’s house left shadows clinging to her skin. She was grateful for the quiet night’s sleep she’d had. No nightmares, no sleepwalking.
A knock broke her thoughts. “Come in,” she called.
A striking man stepped in. Long black hair with silver streaks, warm brown eyes, salt-and-pepper beard. She recognized him instantly from the several descriptions from her husband, Jim, and Lucius. Edward Teach.
“Sorry if I’m interrupting,” his low, smooth voice carried.
“Just settled in,” Charlotte said, rising to greet him. “Let me guess—Edward Teach.”
She extended her hand. He clasped it, smiling. “Born on a beach.”
She laughed. “Cute.”
She offered him a seat. His eyes swept her office, taking in the eclectic mix of mid-century modern, Moroccan, and Old World touches. Trinkets from her travels lined the shelves alongside gifts Stede had given her from his own travels.
“I could spend hours in here. There’s so much… cool shit,” Ed said, then winced. “Sorry.”
She chuckled. “Cool shit works.”
“Very different from Stede’s office,” he added nervously, “but in a good way. Very you. Very him. Distinct but complementary.”
“That was the plan,” she agreed warmly.
They spoke of Stede’s tour, her hidden wardrobe, the little eccentricities of their shared design. Charlotte laughed softly. “He nearly knocked over a globe once trying to show off a hidden shelf,” she told Ed.
Ed grinned. “That sounds about right. I’ve already been lost twice trying to find the right conference room.”
“That does not surprise me,” she said with a warm smile.
He chuckled. “You’ve got a maze here, Bonnet. I swear the hallways move when I’m not looking.”
“It keeps people sharp,” Charlotte teased. The light, easy conversation put her at ease. Then, with a sudden thought, Charlotte rose to prepare tea.
“Seven sugars and a dollop of milk, yes?”
Ed froze, he didn't know what to think, “How did you—”
“My husband must have mentioned it to me weeks ago during on of our calls,” she said with a smile.
"Yeah," he said softly, "that's right. So, he mentioned me?"
"Mhm," she said as she prepared the tea, "he speaks of you quite fondly."
He blushed, flustered, then accepted the cup when she brought it. Then took a sip, “Perfect.”
They spoke lightly over tea until his question shifted the air. “When you’re not traveling, are you often in the office?”
“Daily,” she answered, frowning slightly. “Why do you ask?”
Ed’s tone was casual but his words cut. “It’s good. A co-founder being present, hands-on. Too many founders just vanish, let the company run without them. You know, tend to take on figurehead roles. I know you do a lot of philanthropic work, as well.”
Charlotte set her cup down, her posture stiffening. “Edward… what do you think my role in this company is?”
Before he could answer, Stede entered the room. He saw the tension in his wife's face, he looked between the two. Charlotte raised a finger, silencing him. Her eyes never left Ed who looked like he just stepped on a land mine.
She collected herself, realizing that somewhere some information got lost in translattion along the way, “What exactly do you think I do here, other than being a co-founder?”
Realization dawned on Ed’s face, he looked between the Bonnets, “Is Stede… not the CEO?”
Stede squeaked like a punctured balloon. Charlotte sighed, the sound of long-suffering exasperation.
Ed stammered, but Charlotte spared him. “I don't think you were being sexist but clearly somehow you got the wrong information or wrong impression?”
There was silence. It was like a stalemate, as if no one wanted to say the wrong thing. It was Stede who broke the silence as he came into the room, "Oh dear."
Ed and Charlotte both turned their focus on him. Concern clearly written on their faces.
“It’s my fault,” Stede admitted with a sudden realization he offered them both a look of apology before he turned to his new friend, “the first day when you arrived, Ed. I never told you my title. I’m the CFO," then motioned to his wife, "Charlotte is the CEO and she is the one who reached out to you.”
Ed blinked. Of course. The handwriting, he knew that S looked like a C.
“Oh. Darling, did you send a handwritten letter? Again,” Stede said when it dawned on him when it clicked into place, the fact that she had written to Edward. He gave her such a fond look that it made Ed's heart flutter.
He turned to Ed, “I’m afraid sometimes when she signs C. Bonnet it looks like S. Bonnet. Of course, we both wanted to hire you. And are so glad you’re here.”
There was another stretch of silence as the whole situation really had a moment to sink in. The three of them sat with the events that led to this moment. Then suddenly Charlotte began to laugh.
The absurdity of it broke the tension, she couldn't help it. The laughter just left her, she was fighting tears at the absurdity of how she sent a handwritten letter to a consultant. Soon Ed joined in, then Stede. The three of them laughed until they could barely breathe. They exchanged garbled words of the siliest things of why it all happened that just led to more laughter and tears.
Lucius peeked in, hands on his hips. Having finally returned to his desk from snogging Fang in the stairwell, having overheard the insanity coming from Charlotte's office. “What the hell is going on? The three of you sound unhinged.”
They tried to tell him but none of it was coherent only sending them into more hysterical laughs. He just stared, “How are you three the same person? I am not paid enough for this.”
Charlotte outfit & hair inspo
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Chapter 5
Summary:
The day of the Barbecue is upon us. The BonaBon staff, the crew, and the Blackbeard crew are all invited to, as Lucius calls it..the "Bonnet Compound." Because as Izzy says, who has those kinds of walls and security if they don't have secrets.
Ed doesnt' want to agree but he also doesn't want to think about his new friends having some sort of dark secret. One he is very much developing feelings for Stede that he feels kind of guilty about. He really likes Charlotte, but also gets a weird vibe about their marriage.
Izzy and Charlotte, some kind of friendship is starting?
Notes:
There is two chapters coming today.
Weirdly, I wrote this chapter this morning on my notes app on my phone (well partly last night and then this morning). Then I cleaned it up. The chapter after this one, just be prepared for a really big cliffhanger "oh shit" we are kicking into big plot mode, agent, action scene stuff.
Because yes, this is very MI5, Bond, Agents kind of story. With a dash of romances.
The thing is. I wrote the final scene (almost 100%) yesterday as well. It hit me what it was. It's just like the tail end. I cried. It is kind of great.
Now, I need to write all the inbetween. So, be prepared to have tissues.
Typos may happen, at some point, I went cross-eyed proofreading. So, I may go back at a later date to fix it (please ignore)
(I will go back later to for links to outfits, because there are inspos. Because it's a mix of late 60s and early 70s fashion)
Chapter Text
The Bonnets enjoyed having the crew and the BonaBon staff over to the house just as summer was ending, before the autumn weather started making the temperatures too cool to enjoy the veranda. Honestly, they used any excuse to have the crew over, which was rather often. The crew never complained because it was free food, endless drinks, and the freedom to crash in any available room.
Not every room was up for grabs, of course. Jim had their own room with ensuite, which they shared with Oluwande when he was over. Lucius was secretly living in one of the rooms. He had chosen on of the larger guest rooms in a wing opposite of Stede and Charlottes, not near Jim’s room, with a decent sized ensuite. He claimed he only stayed there when he had too much to drink after parties and some weekends.
When, in fact, he was currently considering giving up his lease to just move in permantnly. But that would mean actually talking to his employers. He only took advantage of their generosity so far, he wasn’t a monster.
Roach lived at the house fulltime, complete with his own suite. The ktchen designed to his exact preference. He had met Stede three years prior in Marseille, where he had been working as a struggling chef in a small bistro.
When the head chef was injured, Roach had his chance to step up. Stede had been dining there and insisted on meeting the chef responsible for what he called “transcendent” food.
Roach had felt seen in a way he hadn’t before. He remembered Stede’s words: “We eat, but how often do we taste?”
Stede returned to the bistro day after day, eventually asking Roach if he was happy there. Roach admitted he wasn’t sure. Stede handed him a card, explaining he and his wife were looking for a personal chef. While the title might not sound glamorous, he promised Roach freedom to experiment and create. And the generous, very generous salary along with accomodations weren't too bad either.
Three weeks later, Roach called. Within another two, he was flown to London to meet the Bonnets. He never looked back.
Even now, as he fumed over Stede’s comments about his 40 Orange Glaze cake barely even tasting oranges, so betrayed, he was skewering food for the grill with a sense of belonging he had never known before.
This end-of-summer barbecue was no small affair. The Bonnets invited the entire BonaBon staff, plus the Blackbeard consultant team. Charlotte and Stede had each made a point of personally ensuring Ed would attend, that he knew how much each of them wanted him to come.
Fang and Ivan were delighted and had already integrated well with the crew. Fang especially had grown close with Lucius and Pete.
Izzy, predictably, was another story.
Charlotte had gone to meet him on the second day she was back, intrigued by the man who had clearly unsettled Stede and amused Jim. Lucius had described him as having pure Daddy energy—Charlotte still wasn’t sure what that meant.
She knocked, and his raspy, gruff, “Come in, it’s open,” invited her inside.
“I hope I am not disturbing you,” she said, her tone smooth.
Lucius often called it her boss voice, though privately referred to it as her “Oh yes, mommy voice.”
Izzy nearly upended his coffee as he jumped to his feet. Clearly, he hadn’t expected her. She smiled as she approached, and he stumbled slightly as he came forward, offering his hand.
“Not at all, Mrs. Bonnet. Israel Hands, Director of Operations of Blackbeard Consultants. Apologies for not having made your acquaintance sooner.”
She held his hand a touch too long, amused by the faint blush that followed. Lucius was right—handsome, she thought, very handsome, indeed.
Releasing him, she gestured toward the plush chairs. “May I?”
“Of course, I mean… you own the building, Mrs. Bonnet.”
“Please, call me Charlotte. That may be the case, but this is your office, Mr. Hands.”
“Fair enough, Charlotte,” he said, still pink in the cheeks.
They sat, and she began, “Well, Mr. Hands—”
“Israel,” he interrupted quickly, almost softly before being a bit more bold. “Please, call me Israel.”
She smiled. Well, that is something.
“Israel, we hadn’t met until now, but I’ve heard quite a lot. You’ve made, shall I say, a notable impression on my husband.” His jaw tightened. Clearly, the feeling was mutual there. “Jim speaks highly of you.”
His expression shifted, but he said nothing.
“Edward, of course, praises you as well. You’ve worked together long enough. I like knowing and getting to know the people I work with. I assume you’ve heard about the little misunderstanding?”
Izzy snorted. “I did. Will you be attending the meetings for the Red Flag planning then? No offense, I ask because I gathered that before now your husband’s involvement was due only in part to your travels and the other to his role as CFO.”
“Well sussed. Yes, I’ll be at the meetings. Without a COO, I’m fairly hands-on as CEO. My unfortunate delay in London didn’t harm the timeline, thankfully.”
“No, we managed. Oluwande is a capable project manager, a credit to your company. He is amazingly competent."
“My that is high praise, coming from you, Israel. I appreciate that," She rested her hand on her chair turning to face him, it was not often she opened up to people about personal matters. Let alone strangers, but something about him made her feel like she could trust him, "I know you don't know me, you see the matter of it all is that as you may know, my father is the Home Secretary."
Izzy nods she can see in his eyes that he look unsure about where this conversation is going. She took a moment, knowing it sounded rather absurd.
"He was the reason I was in London. He ordered me there, and I couldn’t refuse. One doesn’t refuse a man like Reginald Stuart without consequences, even for me. Once inside his house, it feels like a prison. What was meant to be a dinner stretched into days, then into weeks. I apologize for the unprofessional nature of not being here. It is a relief that I can count on my team in my absence. Ignore me—you don’t need the sob story of a poor rich girl. I’ve embarrassed myself enough."
Charlotte was not immune to a little self‑deprecation, though she rarely indulged in sharing her personal sorrows. She was caught off guard when she felt a warm, firm hand settle over her own. Turning her head, she met hazel eyes so different from the pair of hazel eyes of her husband. \
To her surprise, his hand covered hers, warm and firm. His hazel eyes softened. “Charlotte, your father is a twat.”
A laugh burst out of her before she could stop it. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. “I daresay you’re not wrong, Israel.”
“As I said, Oluwande kept us on track even if Edward and Bonnet were almost useless,” he added with a pointed glance. Something in his tone told her he meant more than his words. Ah. He was talking about Stede and Ed.
She squeezed his hand. “Yet we are still on schedule. I’d say that’s thanks to you.”
He blushed again. “I wouldn’t say that.”
“Well, I will,” she countered, smiling. “Another reason for my visit. We’re having a barbecue this Saturday at our house in Lichfield. I’d love for you to come, as my guest.”
“Oh, I don’t know…”
She placed her other hand over his. “It would mean a lot to me. And the house is large enough for you to find a quiet spot if you want to avoid people.”
He considered, then sighed. “Fine. For you, I’ll be there.”
The day had arrived. Of course, several of the main crew were already there as many of them (namely one Lucius Spriggs) had stayed over on Friday night already eager for the Saturday festivities. Most of them were only partially hungover.
Stede, up early, was dressed in soft blue shorts, a tailored pink linen shirt, and comfortable leather dockers. It wasn’t his flashiest look, but Charlotte had reminded him comfort was best for hosting.
He lit the outdoor brick oven and grills, ignoring their suggestion to hire help. Roach had threatened them both with knives if they even tried.
“Meat is meat, knives are knives,” he’d said, insisting the food was his joy.
Spanish Jackie had supplied the alcohol, her many husbands acting as bartenders while she lounged in a gold caftan and oversized sunglasses, laughing with the Swede. Stede, watching from the veranda, smiled. The preparations were perfect.
There was a dance floor set up, Wee John’s DJ booth waiting for later. Guests were beginning to arrive.
Several of the guests were starting to arrive. Jeanine from accounting with her huband Nick. Then there was Harold, on of their project managers from Olu’s team and his wife Julie. Amongst several others.
He waved at each one going to greet them, making sure everyone had a drink that their children were well settled. They had hired staff to look after the children, set up a petting zoo. Made it a real treat for the kids, give the parents a chance to enjoy the time.
They didn’t want to have their staff worry about having to find a sitter. They had plenty of space. While Stede and Charlotte couldnt…well, didn’t have children. They loved to host the children here at the house. Even had a big easter egg hunt each year.
Ed, Ivan, Fang, and Izzy had all rode the train from Birmingham together to Lichfeld. Stede had told them he would send their car to pick them up, that Buttons would be waiting.
“It was rather nice of them to invite us,” Fang said as the train was drawing closer to their destination. Ivan nodded in agreement, “Yeah, not often we get included like this. Right Boss.”
“They’re not quite the other people we have worked. Kind of a nice change,” Ed said. Sitting back with his legs stretched out. Fang giggled, “You just like Stede is all.”
Ed gave him an eye, but there was no heat, “Charlotte is nice, too,” he offered.
“Don’t trust ‘em.”
They turned to Izzy, all eyes waiting for him to say more. They already knew he was suspicious naturally, he had already made it knowne he was very suspcious of the Bonnets.
Well, mostly of Stede. Recently, he was less so critical of Charlotte. Which Ed found both amusing and very curious.
“Going to expand on that riveting thought there, Iz?”
“No one is that fucking nice,” he spat, “that fucking ponce Bonnet has to be hiding something. Either he’s a criminal, this is all a cover up. Or something else. It’s just too neat, too clean. Bonnet has a secret, I just know it.”
“Seems like you are awfully focused on Stede,” Ed observed. He likes Charlotte, but he isn’t wrong, there is something about The Bonnets that just seems too squeaky clean. He doesn’t want to think it. As he spends more and more time with them both. The more he doesn’t want to leave either of them if he is honest.
His feelings for Stede, he feels guilty about them. His fondness for Charlotte doesn’t help. But he also gets the sense that there is something underneath the surface he just can’t see hidden.
“Because he is clearly fucking hiding something, Edward, but you are too clearly fucking all wrapped up in your fucking boyfriend to see it.”
“Calm down,” Ed said with a laugh, “you realize if Stede has a secret that it would be both of their Secret. I mean, Charlotte and Stede seem to be really close.”
He looks at Ivan and Fang for back up both of whom nod in agreement.
“Boss is right,” Fang says, “I really like Char. She’s really kind of scary in a really sweet way. Like if you take Boss and Stede, squish them together a bit. But they are married. So if he does have a secret, she would either know or be in on it.”
“You think Charlotte is a squishy version of me and Stede?” Ed asked with a bit of surpised.
“Yeah, a bit kind of. But like in a the three of you have similar kind of…” Fang is searching for the right word but Ivan chimes in, “weird.”
Fang nods, “Yeah, weird is good. That’s a good thing. You’re good for each other, I think.”
Ed thinks about that for awhile. Izzy is scowling at the three of them.
They arrive at the station, Buttons and Karl are waiting for them outside with the car. The ride is silent on the way to the house passing through the village.
The Bonnet estate is just outside of Lichfeld, surrounded by fairly tall concrete walls. Izzy is pressed to the windows staring at them his brow furrowed, he sits back then gives Edward a stern look. Ed meets his eye.
“That’s quite the secure wall for people without secrets,” he muttered.
He wouldn't admit it to Izzy, but he did notice at least six security cameras since they entered the walls. So, yeah it was kind of a lot of security.
Ed ignored him, focusing instead on the sprawling gardens and villa that came into view.
The house looked like it belonged in another country, yet somehow it fit perfectly into the English countryside.
Buttons offered them a smile and gestured toward the entrance. “The main door is there. The house can be a bit intimidating at first, but ye will find yer way. The main part is easy enough to navigate—it’s once ye adventure off into the wings and other parts of the estate that things get tricky," he looked pointedly at Izzy and Ed, "Just follow ye hearts."
They all nodded as if they understood. Ed stepped forward to lead the way, but before he could open the door it swung wide and Lucius appeared, dressed in a one‑piece shorts romper and a jaunty neckerchief. He grinned and announced, “Hey there bitches, welcome to the Bonnet compound. Okay, it’s not really called that. Come in, I’ll take you back to the veranda. Stede is back there. Our hostess has yet to make an appearance yet.”
He gave a quick wave, then darted forward to grab Fang’s hand. Fang giggled, and Lucius looked him up and down with an exaggerated once‑over. “Ugh, love you in casual clothes. This whole short sleeve button‑up and shorts number is doing it for me.” He then peeked at Ivan, who was wearing dark bell bottoms, a tee, and a vest. “You are a whole vibe. I could eat you up, too.”
Izzy rolled his eyes, but Ed only laughed. He had chosen dark black bell bottoms and a purple cropped tee, unsure what else to wear given his limited wardrobe.
Izzy, of course, kept it simple, black pants and a black button‑up shirt with the sleeves rolled up. The man’s wardrobe was even more spartan than Ed’s.
Really, Ed was more excited to see what his two favorite Bonnets would be wearing. After all, he only knew two Bonnets, and he had never met anyone who dressed quite like them.
Stede called it pageantry, or something close to it. All Ed knew was that he looked forward to seeing what they came up with next. If he were put on trial, he thought wryly, his only demand would be to see what Stede chose for a summer barbecue. He had never seen the man out of a suit.
Ed was transfixed when he walked into the house, he wasn't really sure what to expect. If the office had felt like stimulation overload, this was on another level entirely. It carried an old-world classic charm mixed with a warmth that sank straight into his bones.
He instantly felt at home. He wanted to explore every nook and cranny, certain there must be secret rooms, wardrobes, or even hidden passages. He very much bet that there were.
He didn’t catch a single word of Lucius’s rapid commentary as the tour moved along...something about rooms, directions to what he assumed was the loo. Ed was far too overstimulated, soaking up everything Bonnet with wide‑eyed wonder.
It was then, stepping out onto the veranda, that he heard his name called in that familiar accent, a voice that felt more like home than anything else. He looked up and saw that bright sun of a man.
All he thought to himself was….LEGS.
Stede Bonnet had the most amazing legs.
Ed smiled as he walked toward Stede he had his arms open pulled Ed into a hug. Then the next thing on Ed’s brain was ARMS. Stede’s arms. Christ the man was built. He pulled back and was hit with the sun once more.
He surveyed Stede's outfit as he pulled back from the hug. Soft blue shorts that really showed off his amazing legs with a soft pink short sleeved button up shirt.
Dazed he muttered, “Beautiful.”
“Why thank you,” Stede said, blushing.
“Oh, you’re welcome,” Ed stammered, realizing too late he’d spoken aloud.
“Your house is amazing, mate. I love it.”
Stede smiled wider, “I am so glad. I will have to give you the fill tour later. Woud you like a drink?”
Ed could only nod, so Stede guided him over to the bar. As they walked, Stede explained that the alcohol had been supplied by the local pub, Spanish Jackie, pointing out where the owner herself was lounging with the Swede while her many husbands manned the bar.
Ed’s head was swimming. The sights, the noise, the sheer scale of it all, it was so much to take in.
“How was your train ride?”
“It was fine, not as long as I expected. Kind of nice being that close with the rail. Probably nice with the car, I’m sure.”
Stede nodded. “I think it’s about a similar timing. We like it. Especially having so much space. The crew end up out here so often. Jim lives here. Well, Olu is here most of the time as well. They're together. Charlotte is fairly certain Lucius is secretly living here. I should just tell him to move in, give up his lease.”
“Oh, well if you insist, I can let my leasing agent know on Monday,” Lucius chimed in suddenly, appearing right on cue.
“Lucius!" Stede almost shrieked as he jumped to the side, "What have I told you about listening in on conversations?” Stede scolded, turning toward him, “Did you actually need something?”
Ed stifled a laugh, the boy had a knack for turning up at the most opportune times.
“Charlotte said she will be down soon. She was just wrapping up a call.”
"God, it's not Evelyn is it?"
Ed loved when Stede is a bitch. Who is this Evelyn then? Clearly Stede is not a fan.
"Oh my god, Stede. I don't know, I am not the keeper of your wife's girlfriends. I am pretty sure it's not. I don't even think she's talked to Evelyn in awhile. It's a call, call."
"Ah" Stede said, he offered Ed a smile, "thank you Lu."
Lu rolled his eyes then mumbled something about messy bitches. Then bounced off, likely to find Pete or Fang, or both.
Turning back to Ed, he smiled warmly. “So, how about a mini tour?”
The barbecue was in full swing now. Roach kept sending out platters in steady waves, each course more impressive than the last. Laughter and chatter rose across the veranda and gardens, glasses clinked, and the drinks flowed freely.
A playlist set the mood until Wee John claimed the DJ stand later, turning the whole gathering into a celebration that spilled from the house into the night air.
Meanwhile, Charlotte stood above on the balcony, watching the crowd. Her hair was styled in a Farrah Fawcett-esque shag, oversized sunglasses pushed onto her head, bangles clinking at her wrist. The dark orange halter dress she wore wasn’t her usual color, but Stede had convinced her the night before. It suited her, he had said.
Her thoughts drifted to the call she’d had with the Director...another assignment, three days away during Red Flag preparations. Risky, but tempting, especially with the loose ends it touched from earlier work from as past assignment. She hadn’t yet decided.
Movement behind her drew her back. Israel stood there, a drink in hand. “I didn’t realize—”
“Oh, I was just lost in thought,” she smiled, turning to him. Her face list up when she saw him, “Hello Israel, I’m glad you accepted my invitation.”
“Well, you seemed insistent. Lovely house,” he replied, eyes darting away.
“Thank you.”
Silence lingered, thick and heavy. The air between them carried something unspoken, present in every glance they had shared since their first meeting. They had been in many meetings since with so many others around.
Now alone for the second time, Charlotte stepped forward. “I could give you a tour, if you like. Or leave you to your own devices. I enjoy your company, Israel, so don’t think I offer out of politeness.”
He studied her, wary, as though searching for a trick.
“A tour would be nice,” he said finally.
Charlotte smiled, slipped her arm into his, leaned close, and whispered, “Is this okay?”
His voice came rough. “This?”
She nodded, her hand brushing his shoulder lightly.
“Yeah. Perfect,” he breathed.
Together they stepped off into the hallway, beginning the tour.
Chapter 6
Summary:
A month after the summer barbecue the BonaBon and Blackbeard Crew are getting closer to making the presentation to the Red Flag. Tensions are getting a little high, it's a big deal.
Despite some of the tension, it looks like Ed and Stede are getting closer. Not just them either. Through a little fuckery of her own, Charlotte lets Stede off the hook from a charity gala so he can have a night out with Ed and the crew to see Calypso perform at The Gas Lounge.
The night does not go how anyone expected.
Notes:
First note -- Mummy Dearest (movie) came out in 1981 but it was too damn funny not to include in this chapter.
As we get into the night. Events are unfolding simultaneously. So, it was easiest to cut from The Gas Lounge to the Gala. This one, be prepared. It's gonna hurt.
From here it's going to be rough for a few chapters. Like I said, we are entering into action/spy craft getting into villains and not great topics territory.
There are some difficult topics explored. I have like, so many scenes already written for this whole story and world. This story has been living in my head for months. To the point that I kind of talk to myself about it, my husband thought I was going crazy, y'all.
I hope you love it. This one has, what I think are some really funny moments. Despite how heavy the end of this chapter is.
Chapter Text
It had been nearly a month since the summer barbecue, and progress on the Red Flag presentation was steady. Charlotte had turned down the assignment, deciding the project was too important. She needed to be with the crew and the Blackbeard team. As the final stages drew near, everyone was starting to feel the tension build.
There were a few occasions when Stede and Izzy clashed in heated arguments. On one such occasion, Izzy muttered under his breath that Stede was too weak, failing to keep the accounting team on task to meet an important project deadline. That single cutting remark pushed things too far, and in an instant Stede and Izzy were standing face to face.
Stede had Izzy by the collar, “Let me tell you something, Iggy.”
“It’s Izzy,” he growled, correcting him as he rose up into the taller man’s face, spitting mad.
Stede is fuming, his face growing red as he lets the smaller man go, pushing him back a step. “Whatever, I don’t care. If you have a problem with me, say it to my face. I don’t care for your attitude. I may not be the CEO, but I am still one of the owners. If you don’t like how I manage this crew, you can go suck eggs in hell.”
Izzy growled, flipped Stede off, and stormed out of the meeting.
Everyone stood there stunned. Just then, Charlotte and Ed, who had been in another meeting, were happily chatting when they saw Izzy marching out, clearly fuming, and then noticed Stede in the conference room, red‑faced and angry (a very rare sight) with a chair turned over.
They exchanged a look that said oh shit, what the hell just happened? Each glanced back at their respective partners, then back at one another.
“You go to Stede,” Charlotte says.
Ed nooded, “You go to Iz?”
She agreed before hunting him down.
Leaving everyone still looking on, even more confused than they had been before. Lucius, who had been watching from the corner leaned to Olu, "What is evening happening right now?"
Olu just shook his head, he had no idea.
What the crew didn’t realize beneath the surface was that friendships were quietly forming. Charlotte and Ed were kindling their own connection, finding in each other a familiarity and fondness.
Meanwhile, Ed and Stede’s bond was deepening in its own way. At the same time, something unspoken was forming between Charlotte and Izzy. He was becoming increasingly protective of her, though he remained firmly in denial about acknowledging it.
To the point that any, even unintentionally meant, ill word said about her was met with a threat. Ed found it rather hilarious. Stede found it rather startling. When he asked his wife about it, she said she hadn’t the faintest clue. Of course, Jim was all very aware of the whole situation because Jim was always watching.
September 24, 1972 - Two weeks until the presentation
Ed is in the conference room, gathering a few files after a meeting with the team to go over the morning status reports, when Lucius pops in.
"Hey, you should come out with us tonight," Lucius said with a grin. He noticed Izzy still lingering in the room and added with a wink, "You as well, daddio."
"Fuck off," Izzy muttered, pushing past him.
Ed laughed. He loved how easily Lucius could get under Izzy’s skin.
“Well?” Lucius tilted his head, looking at him expectantly.
“Oh, sure. Could be fun.”
“Trust me, it is. It’s at this great place called The Gas Lounge. Actually, tonight Wee John is performing.” Lucius made a face, as if debating his own memory, then corrected himself. “Actually, Calypso is performing. That’s his drag name.”
Ed perked up at that. He loves drag, and Wee John seemed like he’d be an amazing performer.
“Hell yeah, count me in. What time and what street?”
“Oh, 6:30 is when we’re all meeting. Show starts around 8, I think. Over on Hurst—you can’t miss it.” Lucius gave him a cheeky smile. “See you then.”
“Yeah, see you.”
Later that day — in Stede’s office
“Oh, hey Stede. Do you have plans tonight?” Ed asked casually as they sat together having tea. He leaned back a little in his chair, trying to sound offhand though his eyes lingered on Stede with a hint of anticipation.
Stede thinks for a moment, he doesn’t recall anything that Charlotte or Lucius had mentioned. He sets down his teacup, considering.
“No,” he says at last, “why do you ask?”
“Well, the crew are going to this place called Gas Lounge on Hurst. Wee John… I mean, Calypso,” Ed paused, trying to remember if that was right. He fiddled with the rim of his cup, looking slightly uncertain. Before he could finish, Stede cut in eagerly.
“Oh, is Calypso performing tonight? I’ve been meaning to go see Wee John’s drag performance. Are you asking me to go?” Stede looked at Ed, wide-eyed and hopeful, his posture straightening with excitement.
Ed smiled, relaxing at his friend’s enthusiasm. “Yeah, mate. I am. M’thinking we could get fish ’n’ chips before, if that’s not too low‑class? After work, before then. The crew are meeting at 6:30 for preshow drinks.”
“Fish n chips is perfect,” Stede says warmly, “sounds like a great idea. It’s not too far of a walk. We can leave here plenty of time to make it. Say about 5:30, meet up here?”
“Works for me.”
Close to 5:30
Stede goes to find Charlotte; he hasn’t seen her since earlier in the day. He’d meant to tell her about Wee John’s show.
He checks her office, then notices the door to her auxiliary wardrobe room is slightly ajar. That’s rather odd, he thinks.
As he starts walking toward the entrance, he hears voices drifting out.
“I don’t know, Lu. I really think this one is too much. The back is so low cut, it’s far too glam for this event.”
He steps into the room. Charlotte is dressed in a gorgeous black shimmery backless evening gown, the fabric catching the light in subtle waves. The cut dips to the small of her spine, elegant and daring, while the front falls into a soft, draping halter.
She looks radiant and commanding, every inch of her exuding confidence. Her hair is pulled up in a polished style, clearly done at the beauty shop suddenly it makes sense to him why he hadn’t been able to find her earlier.
She spots him in the mirror. A smile flickers across her face, then fades just slightly. “Oh, Stede. You’re not dressed.”
He glances down at himself, then back up at her, his eyes widening in horror.
“Do we have a function tonight?”
Charlotte narrows her gaze at Lucius, who suddenly finds the ceiling very interesting. She lets out a laugh and shakes her head. “I swear, Lu.”
“Oh my god, it wasn’t in his diary, I swear!” Lucius blurts out.
Charlotte turns and walks to Stede, her tone gentler now. “It’s the charity gala. The one for the orphanages.””
“I’m so sorry,” he reached out for her hand, “you look absolutely breathtaking. I’ll just go tell Ed that I can’t —“
“Did you make plans?” She cut him off, she squeezed his hand, “don’t you dare cancel them! I can go this alone. Go have fun with Ed”
“Are you sure?” Stede asked, “I can get changed, I have plenty of suits you know. It won’t take long.”
“You hate these things. I’m sure whatever it is you two are going to get up to is far more exciting than snobs drinking champagne, you know it.”
It was then that Ed’s voice echoed down the hall, calling Stede’s name. Charlotte gave his hand a gentle squeeze before letting go, nodding to him with a small smile as she drifted back toward the three‑way mirror.
Stede peeked out the door, “Ed, in Charlotte’s office.”
Ed walked in, smiling before his brow arched at the sight of the hidden door in the wall. “Secret wardrobe?”
Stede chuckled and waved him in, “Yes.”
As soon as Ed stepped inside, his eyes widened as he looked around. “Wow,” he breathed.
“Another Stede special,” Charlotte said lightly as she finished getting ready.
When Ed finally caught sight of her, his mouth fell open slightly. “You look fucking hot.”
Realizing what he had said, he quickly clamped his hands over his mouth. Lucius burst out laughing.
“Thank you, Edward.” Charlotte beamed at him as she finished, “I still think it’s too much for this stuffy crowd.”
She stood holding her hands out to show off the full look. Her husband looked at her his eyes twinkled taking her in, “that’s nonsense, you look perfect, my moon.”
“I don’t know what stuffy crowd you’re talking about. But you look stunning.”
Then, all at once, Ed’s expression shifted to horror as his eyes darted between the Bonnets. “Fuck, am I stealing Stede away from an important event tonight?””
Stede didn’t meet Ed’s eye, his cheeks grew pink.
Charlotte only chuckled at the notion, “Absolutely not. The moon is going out solo. Just the Star and the Sun tonight, thought I'm not sure that works on a planetary level, but he's all yours.”
“Wait, I'm the Star?"
Stede and Charlotte both nod, Ed thinks about that for a moment.
Lucius cuts it, "Oh my god, it's their weird thing. It's your hair, because it's silver. You are all so fucking weird."
Charlotte rolls her eyes, "You two go have fun."
"You sure?" Ed asked softly, his brows furrowing. "I mean, this seems pretty important if you’re getting all dressed up.”
“Oh, he hates this stuff. Bunch of snobs tossing around money, trying to prove who did the ‘good thing’ better than the next,” she admitted, then caught herself with a small wince, “that’s not why we…”
It’s Lucius finishes the thought, “we all know the truth. You and Stede actually care. You do the work, not just toss money at it then ignore it for another year.”
She looks over at him where he is sitting, her smile soft her voice almost a tremble, “we do try.”
“We just have to show up to these. Sometimes I go, but it’s true. Charlotte usually goes to represent us both,” Stede explains as he walks over and kisses her cheek, pulling her close.
She turns her head, smiling at him. “Go have fun. Buy the kids a round, tell them…” She rolls her eyes, then says louder so Lucius can hear, “from Mummy Dearest.”
Lucius giggles, “Thanks, Mummy.”
“Fuck off,” she shoots back without any real heat.
Ed’s not sure what to think, but he knows there must be a story here.
Stede parts from Charlotte, one last kiss.
“Off you two pop, give Calypos my love,” she calls as Stede leaves the wardrobe.
But before Ed leaves, she rests her hand on his arm. He pauses and turns to her.
She steps closer, rises on her tiptoes, and presses a kiss to his cheek. “I’m glad he has you. You’re good for him. Have fun, the both of you.”
She gives his arm a gentle squeeze, then winks before letting go. Ed searches her eyes, mesmerized by the deep green, the fondness and care shining there.
He smiles softly. “You as well.”
He turns to follow Stede.
She watches them go, then calls out, “Oh darling, I’ll see you at the penthouse tonight! Have fun, you two!”
Jim is passing them by, nods to them both.
“Good night, darling,” Stede calls back.
Charlotte goes back to get her pocket book. She smiles at Lucius who is studying her closely, “Say it, I know you’re bursting with oodles of thoughts.”
“It’s just kind of sweet is all. Also, I hate that you’re not coming out with us,” he pouts.
“Duties must,” she offers, “besides this is good for Stede. I love that he has a new friend. He…”
Lucius nods as if understand her train of thought. There is silence. Jim doesn’t say anything, they’re waiting by the entrance.
“It’s nice to be out. Have time to get to know someone,” she checked herself in the mirror one last time, “he doesn’t have to worry or check on me if I’m around. He can just relax. Enjoy himself. Spend time with his friend. With the crew.”
She looks up at Lucius, hoping he understands.
“Yeah, that makes sense. You have to come to the next Calypso performance. I did order a dozen roses or more on your behalf, so there is that.”
She smiles, “It’ll have to do, I’m sure Wee John will love it. Get out of here, go get ridiculously drunk and have a good time.”
“Right. Still on for Brunch Sunday?”
“Ha. I’m pretty sure you are secretly living in my house. Yes, still on.”
He blows her a kiss as he leaves, and she lingers only a moment before following. Charlotte moves toward Jim, who is waiting nearby in a black tailored suit with a matching dress shirt and tie, their dark hair neatly combed back.
“You know,” they say quietly watching Lucius leave, “if he finds out you’re the one who erased tonight’s event from Captain’s diary he will never let you live it down?”
Charlotte feigns a gasp of offence, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Jim rolls their eyes, “probably could have asked Izzy to accompany you.”
Charlotte considered that, several times he would look quite dashing in a tailored suit. It's almost a pity she hadn't.
“It’ll be scandalous enough to be alone. Not that I couldn’t have figured out a whole story of why I’m bringing a member of our team. Or well an associate, instead of my husband,” she says as they enter the elevator.
Jim considers her reasoning, "True. I’m sure he would look good in a tailored suit and been better company than any of the people you’re going to have to deal with.”
Charlotte laughed hating that Jim had clearly read her mind, “Fair point. Maybe next time.”
S omehwere in Birmingham close to Hurst
Stede and Ed walked slowly towards Hurst. They’d found a fish n chips stall.
“This is really good,” Stede said as he bit into a piece of fried fish from the newspaper wrapping.
“Yeah,” Ed said with chips in his mouth, “love a good chip. Sometimes it’s just the perfect thing to have.”
Stede nods as he takes another bite. Trying to remember the last time he had a fish n chips like this.
“Do you and Charlotte…” Ed started to say.
Stede looked up from his food, his face pink from the slight fall chill that was setting in, “it’s been awhile if you can imagine. I think it was down in Brighton. We were having a walk along the coastline, stopped at a stall there.”
He thought for a moment, “it must have been a few years ago at this point.”
Ed nodded.
“She likes you,” Stede said out of the blue.
Ed looked up at him with wide eyes, "I suspected. We get on, I enjoy her company quite a bit. Think she's becoming probably one of my closest friends. Besides you. I think, though I would consider you my best friend."
“I'm your best friend” Stede looked stunned.
Ed smiled, "Yeah, mate. Most fun I have had in ages. These past few weeks. Hell, it's been great probably the best time in my life. You. Char. The crew. I don't know. Just feels right. But yeah," he nudges Stede's shoulder, "You are my best friend."
Stede was feeling so many feelings. A bit of guilt she was at the charity gala solo, even though it was true that she did attend them alone sometimes. But something was itching at the back of his brain, it felt off. A sense of dread, but he shoved it down.
Here is with this beautiful man next to him. His best friend. The most gorgeous man he’s ever seen. Who is funny, brilliant, and just gets him. It’s so easy to be around Ed. He’s never had a friend like him. It’s nice.
How can he be so lucky to have two people that just get him. He envies people who seem to have multiple people who get them, gravitate to them so easily. Like Lucius, that boy just draws people to him.
He has so many feelings about Ed. About how soft his lips look. How much he wants to know what they taste like. Feelings he needs to talk to Charlotte about soon before he acts on them. That’s a later conversation.
"You're my best friend, too," he took a moment collecting himself, "I hadn't really thought I could have that. She was my first real friend. I met her in Uni, back in Cambridge. The first person, the only person I ever just clicked with. Who got me, didn’t find me odd. We have the crew, with them it feels different. But you, it's like when I met her. If that makes sense."
Stede wasn't sure if his rambles were coherent. He worried that Ed would think he was pathetic.
"Makes perfect sense, mate. I get it. Especially, since I’ve gotten to know her more.”
“I like having you in my life, Ed.”
Ed catches his breath, a smile ghosts his lips.
They’ve stopped walking. They’re facing each other now, their food forgotten.
“I like having you in my life, too.”
A sudden siren wailed in the distance, shattering the stillness. Both of them startled, shoulders jerking, before breaking into laughter. The sound eased the tension but did not erase it. Something unspoken now lingered between them.
They finished their meals in silence, crumpling the newspaper wrappers, tossing them into a nearby bin. The night air pressed cool against them as they walked toward their destination bumping into one another.
Up ahead, the neon lights of The Gas Lounge flared to life, casting bright color over the pavement shining in a puddle its reflection a shimmer.
“Looks like we made it,” Ed said, patting Stede’s arm with an easy grin. He takes Stede in under neath the glow, even though he has his London Fog peacoat on, the black wool turtle neck does something for him. He knows the darker brown tailored suede jacket he wore set it off well, he admires how beautiful he is in the moment. He wants to hang onto this for just a second longer.
They stepped inside, checking their coats before weaving through the crowd to find the crew. It was Frenchie who spotted them first.
“Caappptaiiinnnnn, you made it!! And Blackbeard!” he shouted.
The whole crew swiveled around, cheers erupting. A chorus of “Captain!” and “Blackbeard!” rang out across the lounge.
Frenchie squinted around dramatically like he was searching for someone then suddenly looked very sad, “Wait, where’s Mummy Dearest?”
Stede rolled his eyes as the others began asking the same. Lucius was already giggling until Stede gave him a sharp look of warning.
“All right, all right, you lot, she’s at a gala tonight. A charity event. She sends her love and her sorrows for not being able to join us. You know she would prefer to be here with you than there. She said, and I quote, even though she thinks you can come up with a better nickname, ‘buy them a round from Mummy Dearest.’”
The crew erupted into cheers. Stede leaned down toward Lucius, handing him something whispering to him quietly clearly giving a few instructions. Lucius gave a sharp nod before waving the Swede to follow.
The rowdiness carried on, laughter and chatter echoing as Stede lowered himself into one of the vacant chairs, as he undoes his suit jacket buttons settling in giving the lounge a quick look. Ed slipped in beside him and Olu, the three of them forming a small pocket of calm amid the noise.
“Mate, I have to know," he waves at Stede catching his attention, "What’s with the nicknames? Captain I’ve heard a lot. But Mummy Dearest?”
Olu laughed beside Ed, and Stede gave a fond smile as he glanced past him.
“I got this one, Cap, if you want?” Olu offered.
Stede leaned back comfortably. “Be my guest.”
“So, Mummy Dearest is definitely not an ‘in-office’ affection, if you will,” Olu began, grinning. “It’s Lucius’ fault...gosh, it was some time back, wasn't it. Charlotte was upset with him, he got bitchy with her and just yelled it really loudly. It eventually stuck. That sounds bad, I know. But the thing is, we mean it rather affectionately. She’s been like a mum to a lot of the crew.”
Stede smiled fondly. “She doesn’t hate it, for the record. She’ll roll her eyes, it's just not during work hours kind of thing.”
Ed nodded with a sly grin. “I’d imagine Stede would be the one to go into a rage if he found a wire hanger in the wardrobe any way.”
Olu nearly spat out his drink at that. Stede grumbled, “They have no business in a closet, they’re fine for the dry cleaners.”
The comment only made Ed and Olu laugh harder.
“Okay, so then tell ’em about Captain?””
“Ah,” Stede said, “you see, that came from Buttons I believes. He’s been with us for,” he pauses thinking about it, “I reckon since our early marriage. But he’s always called me that, not sure why. The crew kind of just picked it up out of habit?”
“Makes sense,” Ed said. By that time the Swede and Lucius had returned with drinks.
Charity Gala - The Grand Hotel
Charlotte walked through a gilded ballroom, nodding at a few familiar faces who waved as she passed. Her eyes swept the room, more to take stock of who was present and who to avoid than out of any real curiosity. She carried her own internal list, carefully sorted between allies, acquaintances, and the tedious.
She soon spotted the Chief Inspector and his wife, Marlene. They were good people, approachable and kind, and Charlotte mentally marked them as safe company for later when polite conversation would be needed. When Marlene noticed her and lifted a cheerful wave, Charlotte returned it with a warm, genuine smile.
Jim is close behind, they’re scanning the crowd for different reasons. Threats. It’s not that anyone is after Charlotte, but the Bonnets have enemies for so many reasons. They can’t be too careful.
Charlotte makes her way to the side of the ballroom and takes a flute of champagne. Jim slips in close beside her, a steady presence at her side.
“Same crowd as usual,” Charlotte whispered, leaning in close. “You’d think I was hardly wearing anything, with the scowls I’m getting from some of the wives.”
Jim gave a sharp snort.
“I mean, look over there, Lady Holly is in a gown that’s practically sheer. Stede would hate it. I can hear his bitchy comment now.”
Jim stifled a laugh. “Stop. You know they’re just jealous that you’ve got more style than them. Also, they’re all miserable and unhappy.”
Charlotte just offers Jim a smile before sipping her champagne.
“Just wanted to make you laugh,” she whispered, “you’re too serious sometimes, cielo.”
Jim gives them a stern affectionate look.
A gooey posh voice breaks their reverie, one that instantly cheers them both.
“My dearest Charlotte,” and older woman wearing a gawdy amount of diamonds and dark red velvet dress says as she comes forward her hands extended out, “I’m so delighted to see you, my child.”
Charlotte genuinely smiles, finds the closes tray for her glass, then takes the woman's hands, “Lady Braithwaite, it’s marvelous to see you.”
Lady Braithwaite is one of the few members of the aristocracy whom Charlotte and Stede truly adore. The older woman had long since taken a shine to them from the moment they were first introduced into society, and she was even the one who helped them elope.
“Oh my dear,” the woman looks about,” Where is that absolutely striking husband of yours? No Mr. Bonnet this evening?”
“I’m afraid not. He wasn’t able to attend.”
“Such a pity. He’s so handsome, such a charmer. I miss that boy terribly. You’re quite the stunning pair,” she says, “but look at you, oh this is lovely. Out down yourself again.”
“This old thing? It’s nothing. And look at you—you look absolutely stunning.”
“Oh, you sweet girl,” Lady Braithwaite says as she pulls Charlotte closer to her, “you’re too kind to an old woman.”
Charlotte patted her arm, “not just kind. I’m sorry we have been so absent. We are long past due for a proper visit.”
Lady Braithwaite patted her cheek fondly, “yes, well my home is always open. Bring some of your colourful crew with you,” she turns to Jim, “you as well. Don’t think I don’t see you back there hiding you cheeky thing.”
“Si, Abuela. I’ll come.”
“Right, well. I’ve shown up, I saw who mattered most to me, even though I’m sad Stede wasn’t here tonight,” she said with a fond smile, “you children have fun.”
“I’ll tell him I saw you. Would you like for him to call?”
“Oh, that would be lovely,” she said warmly, “you take care, come see me soon.”
Charlotte watched as Lady Braithwaite left. She felt guilty for having neglected her friend, someone who had been more of a mother to her. Well, as Jim calls her more of a Grandmother.
Jim leans in close, “We’ve all been busy. We will go visit soon. It was good to see her, at least.”
“I needed that tonight,” Charlotte said softly. “To see her.”
Meanwhile at The Gas Lounge
The drinks kept coming. Stede lingered over his glass, nursing it carefully. He was never one to get too heavy handed, an ingrained habit that kept his senses sharp. He reminded himself that the point tonight was to relax, to enjoy the company and the atmosphere, even if instinct made him hold back.
Ed is laughing, he’s a couple drinks in more than Stede. Every now and then, he’ll catch his eye, and they’ll share a smile. It’s comfortable, easy in a way that feels new.
The room erupts in cheers when, unexpectedly, Izzy arrives followed closely by Fang and Ivan. There are hugs and greetings as they join. Stede nods to Lucius, who rolls his eyes, mutters a question about what they’re drinking, then motions to the Swede to help fetch the next round.
Stede gestures to a chair beside him near the stage, leaving it open for Izzy. Izzy takes it with a stiff nod. Ed leans across Stede with a crooked grin, lowering his voice. “Didn’t think you were coming?”
“Changed my mind. Told Fang and Ivan about it, and they said they were already planning on it. Figured why not.”
Stede leaned in slightly, his voice warm. “Glad you came.”
Izzy fixed him with a steady look but chose not to answer. Their drinks arrived, another round of shots placed on the table. The crew grew louder, a little more drunk, laughter spilling over the music.
“Did you know that Captain and Mum fence?” Frenchie says suddenly and rather drunkenly, cutting through the laughter.
Ed raises a brow, genuine interest flickering across his face. “I didn’t know that. You handy with a sword?”
“Foile,” Stede and Izzy said at the same time. The table went silent for a beat, then erupted into laughter.
“Izzy fences,” Ed shouts loudly, grinning.
Stede turned to Izzy, who gave a small nod. “Yeah, haven’t in a bit. Charlotte offered for me to come to the house, practice there.”
“You should,” Stede encouraged.
“Might do, Bonnet.”
“I did not know you know how to fight with a sword, Captain?” the Swede asked, eyes wide.
“Well, I can actually fight with one. But it’s mostly just for show,” Stede admitted with a half–smile. “I doubt in a real fight I’d fare well,” he added, though in the back of his mind he recalled that night in Marrakesh—rooftops, scimitars, and several armed men.
“That’s fucking amazing, mate,” Ed said rest a hand on Stede’s knee.
Stede blushed. The heat from Ed’s hand felt nice.
Charity Gala - The Grand Hotel
“The American market is so volatile right now. They really are brutes when it comes to business, there is no finesse,” Mr. Ashby drones, the President of some London firm Charlotte cannot even recall.
“What do you think, Mrs. Bonnet? Your company is in Liability and Security. Seems you’re doing well in Europe. Fancy you’ll make it across the pond?”
“The American regulations are quite different,” Charlotte replies smoothly. “We have considered it, but for now we find it too premature and risky to make that kind of move.”
The men nodded politely.
“Your husband is a smart man, he has clearly taught you well. Keep in England and Europe. The Americans can flounder on their own.”
Charlotte felt anger surge through her, her fist tightening at her side. She forced a tight-lipped smile before excusing herself with practiced grace, slipping through the crowd with Jim at her shoulder.
Once they were clear, Jim leaned in, voice low and sharp. “What a prick.”
“I knew it would happen,” she said with a weary sigh. “Always does, without fail. And if I correct them, it becomes a whole thing and it’s not worth it.”
She snagged a flute of champagne from a passing tray and downed it in one go, propriety be damned. Jim gave her a long, concerned look but chose to stay quiet.
“I hope they do the speeches soon,” Charlotte says, “after that I’d like to leave and go to the penthouse.”
“Yeah, good plan.”
Another couple approaches just then.
“Hello, Mrs. Bonnet,” the gentleman said warmly, “don’t you look stunning this evening.”
Charlotte fixed on a polite smile. “Mr. and Mrs. McKenzie, so good to see you. I hope you’re both well?”
“We are, indeed we are,” Mr. McKenzie replied as his eyes swept the room almost exaggeratedly. “Mr. Bonnet not here this evening?”
“No, he’s working late. We have a big deal for our company underway. He’s handling that while I’m here on our behalf.”
“I know that feeling. Mr. McKenzie works late often,” Mrs. McKenzie added with a sly edge. “I often tease him that he should make sure he pays his secretary well for all the extra hours.”
She gave her husband a pointed look; he only laughed. Then she turned back to Charlotte with a smug, knowing smile.
“I assure you, our assistant Lucius is very generously compensated. Almost too well.”
She put an emphasis on the he, staring the woman down.
“If you’ll excuse me, I was needing to speak to someone,” Charlotte said smoothly, leaving behind a very stunned pair of McKenzies.
Once Jim and Charlotte were well clear of them, the tension broke and they both started laughing.
“Oh my god, please let me tell Lucius about this conversation,” Jim managed between chuckles.
“Be my guest,” Charlotte replied, her lips quirking into a sly smile. “I’ll have to warn Stede. I think they’ll be giving him odd looks in future.”
The thought sent them both into more stifled laughter as they moved further away.
Meanwhile at The Gas Lounge
The crew had ordered another round of shots, and he had lost count of how many. Stede felt a pleasant, warm buzz. Ed was sitting a little closer now; Stede could feel the heat radiating from his body.
The house lights began to dim, and the murmurs around them grew excited.
“Here she comes,” the crew whispered.
Music began to play, and a voice boomed over the speaker.
“It is with great honor that the Gas Lounge presents to you tonight, the one and only, the Great…Calypso!!”
The room erupted with cheers and whistles as Calypso emerged. She was stunning.
Her mermaid-style dress shimmered in shades of blue, while her shawl glimmered green, as if seaweed were wrapping around her.
She floated onto the stage, and Stede was mesmerized. Wee John...no, Calypso is absolutely enchanting.
The crew cheered louder as she made her way to her throne at the end of the catwalk, near their table. When she spotted the Captain, her face lit up.
Stede pressed his hand over his heart, then extended it toward her, mouthing, “Beautiful.”
Calypso blushed. She offered her hand to Izzy, who rose from his seat, kissed it, and gave her a respectful nod and bow before taking his place beside Stede. A glass was brought to her as she lifted the mic. The crew cheered, raising their own rounds in response.
“Tis I, Calypso! Raise your motherfucking glasses, or feel my absolute wrath. A toast to two special people in my life, my captain here tonight and to Mummy Dearest who could not be but she filled my dressing room with roses. Cheers!”
The whole room cheered. They all drank, the noise swelling before quieting as Calypso began her act. Stede and Ed sat closer together. Ed's arm behind his should as Stede sat staring in awe at his friend, talented and beautiful, owning the stage.
While Calypso was taking the stage at The Gas Light Lounge... Charity Gala - The Grand Hotel
People are starting to gather near the stage for the evening’s speeches and formalities. Charlotte feels relieved; they really could have done this earlier.
Jim stands just behind her, the two of them tucked off to the side. Charlotte wants to be able to slip out once they’ve made it through the parts of the evening she’s obligated to attend.
Just as the MC steps onto the stage, the lights cut out. A collective shocked “ah” ripples through the crowd, followed by a lone “don’t panic,” before a piercing, ear-splitting ring tears through the ballroom.
Everyone clutches their ears. The curtains slam shut, plunging the room into total darkness.
The ringing only intensifies, disorienting everyone. Charlotte struggles to focus, tries to shift toward where they remember Jim being. She tries so hard to focus on her breath rather than the painful piercing sound in her ears.
She pushes forward but as the sound intensifies she feels it in her body, how hard it is to move. She tries to move again but then everything goes black.
Jim is holding their ears. The ringing gets worse, more intense. They feel like their head might explode. They’re trying to move forward, reach out for Charlotte, but it’s hard to move. They try to get to the ground, crawl forward but the pain is intense. The focus on the breathing, just like in training.
The pain in their ears and head is overwhelming. It feels like forever.
Then, suddenly, it stops. Dizzy and disoriented, with the ringing still sharp in their ears, they blink as the lights flicker back on.
People are scattered across the floor, some hunched over, others stumbling as if about to collapse. Others have blood streaming from their ears down their necks.
Jim quickly scans the room, but Charlotte is nowhere in sight. Their pulse races faster still. They weave through the fallen, searching every corner, hoping she crawled to safety, but there’s nothing.
They reach a window and yank open the curtain, just in time to see a black van speeding down the side street, blowing through a red light and nearly colliding with a car. The realization slams into them.
They turn back to the chaos: people still on the ground or staggering, some with more blood, more people fumbling around. Still, Charlotte is nowhere to be seen.
They rush into the next room and spot the Chief Inspector, who looks just as stunned as Jim feels. Jim scans for pen and paper, finds a pad then a pen. They hurriedly scribbles the words they need the Inspector to read. Just four words—forcing themself not to dwell on what they mean.
They dart back, waving the paper to catch the Inspector’s attention. It takes the man a few long moments to focus; for Jim, it feels like an eternity. Precious time is already slipping away. The longer it takes to get the message across the further the cabrones who took her are getting away.
The Chief Inspector meets their gaze with wide eyes, asking the question Jim dreads. Jim simply points to the words and nods, the ringing still pounding in their ears.
The paper says:
“Charlotte Bonnet was taken”
The Chief Inspector doesn’t dally. He runs to the nearest phone, takes a deep breath, then dials. His own ears ringing, he has to hope whoever picks up hears him. He waits for what feels is the right amount of time to speak once it is answereed.
“This is the Chief Inspector. There has been an attack at The Grand Hotel. The incident has left me unable to hear for the moment. I repeat, this is the Chief Inspector. There has been an attack at The Grand Hotel. The incident has left me unable to hear for now.
Send medics. Several units. We need a detective. Someone has been taken.”
He hopes that was enough, then hangs up.
Jim takes the pad of paper. “We should go down to reception, have them make another call just in case.”
The Inspector nods again, and they both rush toward the elevator.
Another call is made, confirming the first was received and units are on their way. The staff write it down for them.
It takes far too long for the ringing to subside, the ringing is still there but within thirty minutes Jim can partly make out sounds. The medics say it could be a week before they get their full hearing back. Jim waves off the medics for any further care. They are seeting.
“Do you know of anyone who might have motive to take her?” one of the assigned detectives ask, clearly having to yell for Jim to hear.
“The Bonnets are wealthy. She’s the daughter of the Home Secretary,” Jim says plainly.
The detective questioning them looks sheepish, as if they should have known that already.
“I know it’s standard to ask,” Jim adds, “but no, I can’t think of anything recent or anyone with a motive. No recent threats. If there had been, I would know.”
“Of course.”
"You need to get Mr. Bonnet, go to the Penthouse. I can write down the address, it's best if you have him come here. He will be more helpful than I can be right now."
It was the hardest thing Jim has ever had to say. No, not the hardest but to be fair, they only had to write those four words.
At The Gas Lounge
“I think it’s time for me to call it a night,” Stede says with a stretch. He’s not drunk, but he’s certainly tipsy, and any more would tip him over the edge.
“Me as well,” Ed says. “I’ll walk with you,” he offers.
“You don’t have to, Ed.”
“I know. I offered.” He flashes a smile that makes Stede feel warmer.
“Awwwwww,” a few of the crew tease.
Izzy rises, moving to leave.
“You as well, Iz,” Fang calls out.
“Yeah, bit late for me. Gonna shove off, make sure these two idiots don’t end up in the sewer, or Lottie will have my head.”
The crew laugh at that.
“Now, now, you all have fun. The tab’s taken care of, no worries there,” he smiles. “Get home safe. I’ll see you Sunday, Lu, and the rest of you Monday. Night!”
A chorus of goodnights: “Night, Cap!”, “Night, Ed!”, and "Night, Iz!" rings out. Stede just shakes his head as he and Ed collect their coats. Ed picks up Izzy’s coat.
They step outside into the crisp air.
Buttons suddenly appears. “Do ye prefer to walk, Capns and Mr. Hands, or take a ride to the penthouse? Afraid a storm’s blown in.”
Stede glances up at the sky. It looks clear. He looks back at Buttons, who seems very serious and concerned.
“I suppose a ride would be nice.” He turns to Ed and Izzy. “If you’re not eager to head home, you’re welcome to come to the penthouse. It’s still early, I’m sure Char is back. We could all have a nightcap. You too, Izzy, it could be nice.”
Ed is toeing the sidewalk. He looks up at Stede with wide eyes. “Really? You… you’d both want that?”
“Of course. I told you, she likes you.” He smiles fondly at Ed. “It’ll be lovely.” Stede holds out his hand to him.
Ed studies it for a moment. Stede starts to wonder if he’s misstepped, but Ed smiles and takes his hand. Stede squeezes it, “this okay?”
“This?” Ed says. “It’s perfect.”
He then glances at Izzy, who looks like he’s debating an escape. “I don’t know, Bonnet. It’s getting late. Don’t want to crowd you lot. You sure she won’t turn us out?”
“I think she would be ecstatic to see you,” he says with a smile.
“Fuck it, fine. It’s cold, let’s go, then,” he replies.
The three of them climb into the car. Stede locks eyes with Buttons, who looks pleased yet strangely sad. Something inside Stede shifts, and dread begins to seep back in.
The ride is quiet but comforting; Stede never lets go of Ed’s hand. They’re still holding hands when the elevator carries them up to the penthouse. Izzy leans against the wall, eyes closed as they ride in silence.
Buttons bids them goodnight with one final ominous word: “Fetch me when yer ready. Tis a storm that shall pass. Hard, swift. I ken how it will end.”
Stede opens the door. The apartment is unusually quiet.
He takes Izzy’s, Ed’s, and his own coat, placing them in the closet. Then he shows the others into the living room, with its massive, sprawling couch.
“Fuck off,” Ed says. “This is amazing. Look at that view.”
Izzy wanders around, chuckling. “Hole in your living room.”
Stede smiles, shaking his head. “Ha ha, yes. Frenchie made the same joke when he first came over.”
“We bought this when we first moved here. Don’t get me wrong, the house is great, but this place holds a special kind of magic.”
Ed is mesmerized as he takes it all in.
“Make yourself at home,” Stede says as he slips off his suit jacket. “I can’t imagine we made it here before her. She must be in bed reading. I’ll go check.”
Ed sinks into the big, cozy couch, savoring how plush and soft it is. Izzy stands by the window, gazing out at the shining city lights.
“Great view isn’t it Iz?”
“Yeah, it’s quite the sight.”
Stede heads toward the bedroom, his jacket slung over one arm as he works at a cufflink to roll up a sleeve. He pushes the door open, still focused on the sleeve.
“Darling, how was the gala? Ed and Izzy are here and…” He looks up to find a neatly made, empty bed. He pauses, odd. He steps farther in, tossing his jacket over a chair, then fastens his cufflink again.
He checks the room, but it’s clear Charlotte hasn’t been there. He leaves and moves toward Jim’s room. The door is ajar. “Jim?” he calls.
When there’s no reply, he slowly pushes it open. The room is empty.
Maybe the gala ran longer than expected, he thought. He checked his watch, it was getting late. He headed toward the living room to tell Ed she wasn’t back yet when the buzzer at the front door went off.
He walked through. Ed looked up at him with a smile. “She must have forgotten her key. It’s not like Jim to forget, though.”
Stede laughed nervously. Izzy turned from the window to watch him, his expression unreadable.
And then Stede felt it, the dread.
He opens the door to find two men in suits. “Yes. Can I help you?”
“Mr. Bonnet?”
“That’s me. How can I help you?” He can hear footsteps approaching behind him, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He knows Ed and Izzy must be coming from the living room. They have to sense something is wrong.
“I’m afraid, sir, there was an incident this evening at The Grand Hotel. An attack. I’m sorry to inform you that your wife was abducted during the events that transpired.”
The words turned to white noise. Stede could feel Ed behind him, knew the two men were still talking.
“We were asked by the Chief Inspector to escort you to The Grand Hotel. Your employee, Jim Jimenez, is there assisting with the investigation as much as they can. Afraid they were injured during the incident, nothing life dangering, I assure you.. We recommend that someone stay here to monitor the phone in case the abductors reach out. Perhaps someone at your main home, as well?”
He only nodded. Ed cut in, “I can stay here, call Buttons to go to the house too. You go, take care of what you need to.”
Stede turned to look at him. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, mate. That’s what friends are for. You and Charlotte are my friends.”
“Thank you, Ed,” his voice shaking. He should be better at this, more level-headed. He is a trained MI5 agent, after all.
“I’m coming with you, Bonnet,” Izzy’s voice cuts through as he holds both of their coats. Stede just stares at him, then nods.
“Yes, good. I think that’s good.” He turns to the detectives. “Well, lead the way, then.”
Chapter 7
Summary:
Stede and Izzy arrive to the Grand Hotel. The press are there and it's pure chaos. As Stede is talking with the detectives and looking around the ballroom, Izzy's questions about who Stede Fucking Bonnet really is and what dark secret they are hiding resurface.
But he isn't going to get those answers yet. For now, he is going to help all he can to figure what happened.
Charlotte Bonnet awakens to find herself miles away and in the company of a lunatic.
Notes:
I have several chapters written that I will be pushing out over the next few days. Now, when we get to about Chapter 10 it will be on that people can skip because it may be a bit too graphic/violent/gruesome.
In chapter 9, I will try to go back and have it linked to skip to Chapter 11 once it gets published. At the rate I am writing, I may post Ch 10 and 11 together to set that up.
I feel it's necessary for the story, but I want to be mindful of readers who may be less keen on that kind of thing.
Note: the whole hearing and ear thing, it would take a lot longer to recover from but for the sake of the story Jim is healing faster.
Also, excited to publish Chapter 8 because there is some funny moments in that one and it's a kind of sweet chapter despite the heavier tone of the story point.
Comments are so welcome.
Chapter Text
Arriving at The Grand Hotel was pure chaos. Medics escorted gala attendees out of the building, some on foot, others on stretchers. There was blood, tears, and confusion everywhere. It was a scene of chaos.
Police struggled to keep the area clear as members of the press began to arrive. Reporters rushed in, shouting questions about the abduction of his wife.
One detective hurriedly came out from the hotel to meet them, apologizing that they had tried to keep it quiet for as long as possible. Stede said he understood.
Izzy, however, charged the reporters, yelling that Mr. Bonnet had no comment at this time.
When he rejoined Stede he quietly leaned over whispering, “Thank you.”
Izzy only gave him a nod.
Detectives swiftly escorted stede and Izzy to the elevators. Neither spoke a word. Two men often at odds, finding common ground only in her. Their care, regard, and devotion. Now she had been abducted.
When the elevator dinged, it led them into a side room off the main ballroom. They had turned it into the central hub of the investigation. Jim sat silently in a chair but jumped up when they saw Stede, their eyes red and heavy with shame.
“I tried, Captain.” Their voice cracking with each word.
No words as he opened his arms, and they fell into them, landing hard against his chest. He wrapped his arms tightly around them, holding them close. He kissed the top of their head and whispered softly, “I know, ciejo. I know.”
One detective nearby spoke up a look of sympathy on their face.
“They can’t hear you. Hearing damage, I am afraid. That’s how they took everyone down in the ballroom. High-frequency sound, intense decibels. It pierced some of the attendees’ eardrums. The medic said some people may not regain hearing. Could be a week for your friend.”
Stede nodded.
“Fuck,” Izzy muttered.
“They turned the lights out, then closed the curtains. Total blackout. They must have had night vision and specialized protective gear. This was high tech. Whoever took your wife, sir, this weren’t amateurs.”
His past suspicions about Bonnet resurfaced. Any of his theories could make sense, each pointing toward powerful enemies. He stared at the man before him, the tall blonde-haired, square shouldered gentleman. He was stoic but Izzy could see the edge there, the storm of emotions. Something beneath the surface.
Still, it was just as likely connected to her father. As Home Secretary, he was a powerful man.
Stede shifted Jim in his arms so he could look at them, raising his voice so they could hear, “Show me where you were when it happened.”
They nodded then motioned with their head toward the door to follow leaving his embrace leading him into the ballroom toward the right side of the room, near to the stage.
“She was standing here,” they said, pointing. “I was here.”
Stede looked around the area slowly then crouched down examining the floor. Then the wall as if studying it, moving to the window. He ran his finger across the seal. He then looked up at the ceiling.
He walked to the stage walking around it before he climbed up the stairs to stand on it. He walked around its edges then to the center. He gave it a small jump, then stopped. Bending down, he motioned for Jim, who hurried over.
There was a trap door, very well hidden, almost imperceptible. No words were spoken; they simply nodded, opened it, and slipped inside.
The detective watched, baffled. "I don't know how we missed that, sir."
"Did a bit of theater in Uni," Stede said with a sympathetic smile, cuffing him on the shoulder. "Just came to mind. They’re rather easy to miss, old boy."
Izzy narrowed his eyes at Bonnet. He didn’t believe that for a second.
After what felt like an eternity, Jim returned through the trapdoor.
“I found her shoe. They definitely came in this way and left with her through here.”
The detectives ordered the team to investigate further. Stede smiled, nodding at Jim.
Izzy just watched, more questions about Bonnet piling up in his mind. Who the fuck is Stede Fucking Bonnet?? Clearly Jim is in on it.
Slowly, Stede guided Jim over to a corner of the room, carrying a pad of paper and a pen. He scribbled a few things down, which from Izzy’s vantage point earned him a fair amount of curses and scowls from Jim. Eventually, Jim’s face settled into a resigned look, followed by a nod from Stede in his direction. Then he saw two pairs of eyes looking at him.
Bonnet tore off the page he had been writing, folded it, and slipped it into the inner pocket of his coat. Glancing toward Izzy, his expression unreadable, he led Jim over to where he stood.
“Izzy, would you be so kind as to escort Jim to the medic?” Bonnet said. His tone was firm, making it clear this was not a request. “The medics, apparently,” that earned Stede another deadly look from Jim, “have not properly examined them since the incident, and there is nothing more to be done here. I would certainly appreciate it.”
Jim now avoided both of their gazes, jaw set like a scolded child determined to do as they’d been told.
Izzy could see the concern in Stede’s eyes edged with the weariness of a man clinging to the last threads of his composure. There was a plea there, almost imperceptible, but Izzy saw it.
This moment, for them, was a truce. They had both lost the woman they cared about.
“Of course, Bonnet,” Izzy said, shifting his eyes to Jim, who still wouldn’t look at him. Then he raised his voice so Jim could hear: “Come on, Jimenez, let’s get down to the medic. Get it over with.”
They nodded and walked ahead of him. Izzy gave Bonnet one last look before turning to follow, offering only a brief nod.
While Jim was being examined by the medics, their face fixed in a scowl. Izzy stayed close, watching and noting every detail. They would need to be seen by a physician given the potential severity of the damage.
Stede, meanwhile, was speaking with the detectives about potential enemies or anyone who might target him and his wife.
Of course, the list was as long as it was short. The answer was not so easily given, considering the Bonnets’ work could upset a number of competitors. But would they be ruthless enough to hire someone to kidnap his wife?
They were wealthy, so naturally they were targets for ransom. Yet why target only them in a room filled with some of the wealthiest members of society? Clearly this was deliberate.
Then there was the matter of Charlotte Bonnet herself. As the daughter of the Home Secretary, her profile as a target was significantly elevated.
They shared that the matter would be elevated to Scotland Yard. He only nodded, expecting nothing less, but explained that he had not received any threats prior to this. If there had been, their head of security would have alerted them. Neither he nor Charlotte would ever have had only one member of their security team present at an event, if that had been the case.
Once they had gathered what information they could, they offered him and his people a ride back to the penthouse. He waved them off, saying they had a car nearby since Jim had been the one to drive his wife. He could manage, and if not, his close friend, despite everything, that thought of Izzy as a close friend made him chuckle inside, who had accompanied him would be able to.
The valet brought the car around to them. Jim offered to drive, but Stede waved them off, earning a very threatening scowl that didn’t sway him in the slightest. The ride back to the penthouse was quiet, as was the ride up the elevator.
As they walked toward the door, he paused with the keys in his hand. He turned to Jim, feeling himself begin to slip. Their eyes widened as they took the keys from his hand and pulled him into a hug. The tears finally came then.
“We will get her back, Captain. I swear it. Those cabrones will pay. I vow it.”
It was like a damn burst, Stede began to sob. Izzy’s heart broke, no matter how he felt about this man. Despite his suspicions, even he was not unaffected. Tears pooled in his own eyes. A hand reached for his, and he looked up to see Bonnet gazing at him through his tears. Izzy squeezed his hand tightly as his tears came harder.
“Thank you, Israel. You mean a lot to her,” Stede said softly.
There was a rattle at the door, and a very tired-looking Edward, his hair loose around his face, opened it. “Any news?”
Three tear-streaked faces turned toward him. He took in the scene, his eyes widened with sudden realization..she’s gone, been taken. His eyes now brimming with tears as he threw himself at Stede and Jim. His sobs joined theirs, sending Stede into fresh waves of grief still clinging to Izzy.
Eventually, they managed to make it inside the penthouse. Jim retreated to their room. Stede showed Ed and Izzy the guest rooms they could stay in. Izzy went off to sleep, but Ed remained with Stede, who clearly wasn’t going to find rest. He looked wearily at the empty bedroom he once shared with his wife.
They went back to the living room, Ed pulling one of the throws over as they sat down. He drew Stede close, rubbing his back and simply letting him exist. There was nothing he could say, what could you say to a man whose wife had been abducted?
What can they possibly do next? All Ed knows is that he is going to be here for Stede, for the crew. Because it’s the right thing to do. Because he cares about this strange man. Not only that, he cares about her. He thinks about the moment they had in the wardrobe earlier in the evening.
Her hand on his arm as she stopped him. Her lips on his cheek as she kissed him, the feeling that rushed through him at that moment. The warmth in her eyes, her smile. He could feel the tears prickling his eyes.
His heart ached. He knows his feelings aren’t limited to just Stede. Even if it’s different for each of them. He knows it’s love for them both. Maybe in different ways, but yeah. He is falling in love. Fuck, he’s in deep.
He’s going to be here for their Sun. Every step of the way, until they could find their Moon, again. He knows it’s what Charlotte would want.
Eventually, he hears soft snores beside him and gently adjusts the throw over Stede.
Ed lay his head back against the sofa. The cushion was soft and cozy, and he slowly nodded off to sleep. Tomorrow they would all need every bit of energy they had. He would be there for anything his best friend needed.
In another room, many miles away in another part of England...
Charlotte stirred from a drug-induced sleep. Her head tilted forward, she felt dazed. There was still a faint ringing in her ears, but it was dull. Her vision was blurry, her eyes heavy-lidded.
She blinked several times, trying to pull herself together. The room was slowly coming into focus, but what little light there was felt sharp, the images still hazy.
She manages to lift her head but feels it loll to the side, definitely drugged. Nausea hits, and she fucking hates this feeling. The room sharpens slowly as she forces herself to focus. She’s sitting, arms restrained behind her back.
Not sure what type of restraint yet, could be rope, could be straps. Too thick to be zip ties. Definitely a chair. She shifts her leg slightly. Restrained, too. Now she knows what she is dealing with, to some point. Not impossible to get out of once she figures out a few more things.
The room is fairly large, an old space. Maybe a manor, maybe a former boarding school, but not a warehouse. Likely the countryside, she thinks. Definitely not Birmingham.
She can’t see any windows. The light is artificial. Two cameras watch her, red dots blinking. She guesses the windows are either blacked out or completely covered.
A crackle from a speaker cuts into her thoughts, the sound of a violin plays over the speaker then fades.
“I see you have finally awoken, Mrs. Bonnet. Welcome, so glad you could join us.”
That voice. I know that voice.
“I so look forward to joining you soon. My, what sweet music we are going to make together.”
Low.
Chapter 8
Summary:
Izzy can't sleep. Who could blame him, the last time he spent with Charlotte is on his mind. It haunts him.
He didn't expect his inability to sleep to lead to finding out the answer he was seeking. Now, he isn't so sure if his life is in danger or if he can act like he never overheard anything.
Notes:
I think this is a funny chapter despite the tone of it and considering what has happened recently. I think in hard times, humor sometimes helps.
Izzy certainly is struggling.
Thinking of notes for this one, I wrote it a few days ago since I have actually managed to write several chapters ahead (at the moment of publishing this, I am currently writing chapter 11 and 14 -- because I did not do anything in order. I have written several other future chapters already needing to write the other inbetweens. It's a mess, my friends.
XD <--- that is an emoji y,all.
I also had a revelation of a big plot twist in the middle of the story as I was making breakfast that I had not originally written out or thought of when I originally was planning this story in my head. It's gonna be good I think, makes way more sense. So smooth, too.
Gosh, I think you may "hate me" (trust me it's great) for it but it is going to be so perfect for the overarching Big Bad plot for the Big Bad Guy part of this story.
Okay, that is enough from me right now.
Chapter Text
It’s the early morning hours when Izzy wakes, the events of last night creeping back to him. He can feel the edges of a hangover from the drinks at The Gas Lounge. It had been one of the best evenings he’d had in years. He supposes he was letting his guard down. It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy music or theater—just not usually with people he doesn’t know. Or really, with people at all.
He drags a hand down his face. The memory of Calypso. The laughter.
His conversation with Charlotte earlier in the day. The thought of her brings tears to his eyes, his heart aching. He pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to hold the tears back.
Fuck. Why did he have to let her in like that? He knew better.
He doesn’t do emotions. Or L-
No, he will not go down that path. Not now, not ever. What he will admit is simple: he cares about her.
She had come into his office earlier that day before her hair appointment for tea, as she often did. It had become a routine. He couldn’t remember when it started—she had just begun showing up one day. He hadn’t said no. He couldn’t say no.
He didn’t want to. He could never say no to her, and he knew that.
She smiled at him, a smile that stirred something deep inside him. Even now, he thinks about it. He thinks about her lips, how many times he wondered what they might taste like. How many times he cursed himself for even having that thought.
“Are you going to The Gas Lounge tonight with the crew?” she had asked.
He scoffed. “Of course not.”
She sipped her tea, studying him. He always felt exposed under her gaze, like she could see right through all the barriers he had in place.
“Why not? You’ve been so wound up lately. The other day I honestly thought you and Stede would end up in a duel.”
He rolled his eyes. “Sounds like you want me to go. If so, just say it.”
She set her teacup down on the desk, and he watched as she took his cup and placed it beside hers. Then she took his hand, pulling him from his chair. His look questioned what she was doing, but she said nothing, only led him away from the chairs. She took both of his hands in hers as they stood facing one another.
“I hope you realize how much I care about you,” she said softly.
“You’ve been working hard. I know you pride yourself on your work. The crew cares about you, too. You need to take some time, go out. Enjoy yourself for a moment. If not for me, for yourself.”
Stunned in silence as his eyes lost in hers. As she let his hands go, he saw a moment of hesitation before resolve. She lifted a hand to his cheek and leaned in, pressing her lips to his other cheek.
A soft breathy whisper in his ear like a prayer, “I just want you to be happy, Iz.”
She pulled back with a smile and crossed the room toward the office door. Resting her hand on the knob, she said, “I have a hair appointment. I’m going to a charity gala tonight. Please, consider it? I’d like to be stuck at a boring gala knowing you’re there having fun. It would make my night better.”
It was the last time he saw her.
He couldn’t fight back the tears now. He could feel the phantom kiss on his cheek, the touch of her hand on his face. His heart ached hard.
He looked at the digital clock; it was nearly three in the morning.
Tossing back the blankets, he sat on the edge of the bed, clad only in pajama bottoms. Bonnet might be an odd man, but he was certainly an attentive host. The man had clothes for guests in various sizes. Izzy found something that fit well enough, even they were too long on him. He grabbed the robe from the door—he needed some water or something to drink.
He knew he wasn’t getting back to sleep, his mind was far too awake now.
After quenching his thirst, he slowly made his way back to his room. The penthouse was easy to navigate, the moon and city lights spilling through the windows made sure of that. With everyone asleep, it was peaceful.
As he neared his room, he noticed a light on, likely from Bonnet’s study. Not that it was any of his business—he assumed Bonnet couldn’t sleep, and he couldn’t blame him. Still, something pulled at him, and he quietly walked closer.
He heard a hushed voice. As he neared, he recognized it as Bonnet’s. He sounded upset, his tone shifting from exasperated to angry. He could only hear one side of the conversation.
“I assure you this is a secure line, as I have said more than once.”
“Forgive me for calling at an ungodly hour when my wife, Agent Stuart, has been abducted.”
“Yes, I bloody well know the code word. If you had been listening, I believe I gave it when I first called in.”
“Do not transfer me…are you trifling me? Do not trifle with me.”
“Code Word: Bowler…Special Agent: Gentleman. Yes, Agent Bonnet. Oh, really? You think...About bloody fucking time.”
Izzy couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Agents? His heart raced—he shouldn’t have heard any of that. Agent for who? Agent of what?
Panic set in. If Bonnet found him here, knew he’d overheard… He had to get back to his room. He could still hear Stede talking on the other side, so he turned and walked slowly toward his room, hoping no one realized he’d been outside. Just as he got closer, he heard movement behind him.
“Israel?”
Fuck, Izzy thought.
“Everything okay? Of course it’s not, what an absurd question to ask—I couldn’t sleep either,” Stede said softly.
With a few deep breaths, Izzy turned to face Stede, who was still dressed in the same clothes as earlier, his hair sticking up from running his fingers through it in frustration.
“Got up for a drink of water, was just going back to bed,” he said.
Stede studied him carefully, his face unreadable, giving no sign of whether he believed him or not.
“I think we should have a talk,” Stede said finally, “if you’re not too tired that is.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. He was sure he could take Bonnet in a fight, but not for long. And now, knowing Bonnet might have a few tricks up his sleeve, the odds of winning seemed slimmer than he thought.
“Sure, don’t think I can get to sleep tonight,” he said, trying to keep his tone calm.
“Please, come in.” Stede opened the door wider, shifting aside to invite him in.
Izzy stepped into the study. The room reminded him of Stede’s office back at BonaBon. Different in some ways, but the aesthetic was strikingly similar. Stede motioned to a chair set toward the back of the room, offset from the desk on the other end.
“I’d offer you a brandy, but at this hour I’m not sure if it would help or hinder.”
“Wouldn’t mind a bit of brandy, actually. Don’t think it could do much more damage at this point.”
Stede laughed. “Fair point, I think you’re right.”
He moved to the bar, set out two snifters, and poured a finger of brandy into each from a crystal-cut decanter. Izzy watched him, noting the tired look on his face, the redness still lingering from the tears earlier when they had all shared their grief.
Stede handed him a snifter before settling into a chair beside him. He leaned back, resting his head against the chair, holding the glass in both hands. He looked weary, as if the weight of the world was pressing down on him.
He took a sip, then resettled himself. Izzy followed suit, the warmth of the brandy spreading over his tongue. Bonnet hadn’t skimped on the good stuff. He sat there, waiting for his fate.
“I’m sure you have quite a few questions for me, Iz,” he said with a resigned sigh. Silence lingered between them. Izzy stared at his glass trying to feign innocence but realizing that was futile and fairly certain he was incapable of the act.
“I know you heard part of my conversation just now. I’m not angry. I figured it was only a matter of time before you or Edward stumbled onto our little secret,” his words softened, carrying a melancholy note, “especially after the events of last night.”
“I won’t tell anyone. I won’t say a word,” Izzy tried to sound calm, though he wasn’t sure how this would end. You never knew what these organizations did to people who discovered the identities of their agents.
“You’re safe, just to ease your mind,” Stede turned to him. “It’s not ideal, mind you, letting you in on it. I am sure you’ve pieced together that Jim knows. As far as the crew, Olu and Lucius know. The others are not aware. I can’t imagine Pete would manage to resist telegraphing it to the world, he’s a sweetheart but so eager.”
He let his words sit with Izzy for a moment.
“So, what, they’re all part of your organization?”
“Something like that,” he said after a moment. “It’s rather complicated, you see. It wasn’t always, but then again, maybe it didn’t feel like it back then.”
Stede leaned back into his chair, eyes closed. Izzy sipped his brandy, not sure what to do with this information.
“It’s certainly not an ‘if I tell you, I have to kill you situation’ but it is one that will require that I get some paperwork involved. Then also have to deal with the higher ups who will certainly bitch and moan about it.”
Izzy scoffed into his drink as he took another drink, he saw that earned him a smirk from Bonnet.
“Well, out with it then. Since it sounds like there are already going to be consequences one way or another.”
“Mmmm. Right, so. Easiest answer,” his eyes still closed, “just so you know, I do plan on telling Edward. It’s going to be unavoidable, I think.”
He let that moment settle as he took a few breaths. Izzy didn’t prod, wondering if there was a version of this where Charlotte had not been abducted and this secret would have been told to him by her.
“You see, the thing is, we are MI5. Charlotte, Jim, and I. The trick of it is, we, that being Char and I, are supposed to be retired, but you don’t really ever retire in our field. So, they consider us,” he lifted a hand and made air quotes, “‘inactive,’ but we are still in the agency. Jim is active, but they’re still assigned to work on our team. Charlotte takes on contract work, which pleases our superiors enough to keep them satisfied. I take on the odd assignment here and there, myself. So some of her travel for business is often an assignment that she and Jim take on.”
He shifted to look at Izzy, who was now staring wide-eyed at him, mouth open. That was about the reaction he expected.
“You’re bloody MI5 agents?” he sputtered.
Stede sighed, it wasn’t that straightforward. His mouth flattened as he drew a breath, preparing to share something far more sensitive with a man he found deeply irritating but also knew he could trust. Lord, the director was going to roast him for this.
“Not just, you see. Afraid we are more than just that.”
“How the bloody fuck are you more than just MI5 agents?”
He took a deep breath. “We are covert special agents. Only certain levels of MI5 leadership and government leaders know our identities. But we are specialists, known by our code names,” he paused, “Gentleman, Siren, and Muerte.”
Izzy just stared at him.
“Wait, what are you saying? You’re some kind of super agents? Like spies?”
Stede sighed. “Yes, you could say that. Most counter agencies and governments call us spies. We’re specially trained in covert operations—obtaining certain types of information, assets, people, even interrogations. We’re trained to withstand torture if captured. Not even Charlotte’s father has the clearance to know our status as spies. That’s how classified it is.”
Izzy sat back in stunned silence, his heart beating faster. Fuck. He knew there was something; it was all too neat. But this was beyond what he expected.
“You’re telling me, of all people, this?” he asked quietly.
“Because she would want you to know. I want you to know. We trust you. I trust you. You’re our friend. Family.”
Izzy looked at him then and saw the truth in Stede’s eyes—the genuine care, the honesty in his words. Even though he sometimes really fucking hated him, he didn’t hate him that much. He was just a twat he couldn’t stand, at times.
They sat in silence, finishing their brandy. Something had shifted between the two men. Eventually, Izzy’s curiosity won out.
“What’s the plan, then? I imagine Scotland Yard being involved won’t be enough?”
Stede made a humming noise as he considered the question.
“No, their resources are limited but not useless. But I don’t want them traipsing around the house setting up wiretaps to monitor and trace any calls. It’s unnecessary when, well, I’m sure you can guess we’re quite capable of doing that ourselves. Even being inactive, we still have a lot of resources. The Yard won’t be thrilled when I tell them I don’t want them risking her life. Most likely there will be a call about a ransom, with a threat against involving the authorities.”
Izzy only nodded. He hadn’t a clue about these things, but he listened.
“But their DCIs and DIs will be doing their own work, which means extra hands. Wider nets are never a bad thing. But as the detective earlier pointed out, whoever this is—they’re professionals. At the moment, I’m not sure who it could be. Unfortunately, it could be one of several factions, organizations, or governments. It could be connected to a past assignment, which would be troubling if they found out her identity. Or it’s a vendetta and they don’t know she’s an agent—which is more likely.”
He pauses then looking over at Izzy, his face softens.
“I’m sorry. Here I am rambling on. I know I tend to prattle. You’ve certainly pointed out it’s not one of your favorite qualities of mine. Even if there are two others who find it quite charming.”
The last part he said with a slight laugh, though it sounded sad.
“No, it’s helpful, Bonnet. I don’t always find it uncharming, I suppose. But what you’re saying makes sense. These things…time is a big factor, right? The longer she’s gone…” He didn’t want to finish that sentence.
“Yes, unfortunately. In the morning, we’ll drive to the house. I’ll call Olu if he isn’t already there so he and Jim can get everything set up to track any calls that come in,” he sighed. “I’ll have to tell Lucius,” his voice caught, “so he can help get in touch with some agents we know in our network.”
“So is Twatty really part of MI5?” Izzy joked, trying to bring some levity to the moment. “I mean, I can see Oluwande being part of the agency—he’s very capable.”
Stede laughed. “Yes, I realize it’s a surprise. They’re both analysts. Olu has been with us for about six years. Lucius for closer to four, I think. Despite everything, he’s a rather capable analyst.”
“I still can’t believe it,” Izzy said with a laugh.
“What are you two laughing about in here?” Jim asked, their voice tired clearly having just awoken.
They both turned to see a very sleepy Jim in their pajamas and robe, giving them both a narrow, suspicious look.
“I see your hearing is already clearing up, then?” Stede asked.
“Unfortunately,” they grumbled as they walked into the study toward where the two men grabbing a pillow and throw from the sofa. Pulling their claimed items they shuffled toward Stede plopping the pillow by his feet between him and Izzy before settling onto shifting against his legs and pulling the blanket around them.
“What are you talking about?” they asked with a yawn, leaning against Stede’s legs.
“About Lucius actually being a decent analyst,” Stede said with a chuckle.
“Oh yeah, that was kind of a surprise. Especially considering he’s probably either slept with, blown, or snogged nearly every agent in…” They stopped suddenly, realizing what they had just said, and looked up at Stede, then at Izzy, “¡Mierda!”
Stede laughed harder, then leaned down and patted Jim on their shoulder. “It’s okay, I told Izzy. They know about us being agents. Well, about our…other identities, too.”
Jim looked at him with a question that is a mix of are you sure and crazy.
He nodded, “It was going to be a matter of time. Honestly, he and Ed were likely going to figure it out. At least, part of it.”
Jim turned their gaze on Izzy then, “Lo juro, I will kill you if you breathe a word and share our identities with anyone, cabrón.”
Izzy nodded. “I know you will. Believe me, I have no doubt of that.”
Jim settled again, more relaxed. Izzy took it as a compliment that they felt comfortable around him, even after threatening him to keep quiet. He noticed they rarely dropped the mask they wore around most people, except with Charlotte, Stede, and, he suspected, Olu. He counted himself fortunate to apparently now be on that list.
“You going to tell Ed then?” Jim asked.
“Yes, tomorrow. Probably after we get to the house.”
“Oh damn,” Stede said suddenly.
Izzy and Jim both looked at him expectantly.
“The crew. They’re going to see the headlines before I can tell them. The damnable press was there tonight, and it’ll be everywhere by morning.”
“Fuck,” Izzy and Jim said at the same time.
Footsteps sounded in the hallway, and they turned toward the door. Edward had likely woken up, realizing he was alone on the couch.
“Edward, we’re in the study,” Stede called out.
Soon long hair and brown eyes came into view, a soft smile greeting them. “Mornin—reckon really early mornin. Surprised everyone’s up, considering how late it was when we all finally crashed.”
“Seems like we could hardly sleep,” Stede said.
Jim shifted their pillow closer to Izzy, their eyes asking for permission. He nodded and moved to give them space. They leaned against the chair, pressing lightly against his legs. He offered them a reassuring smile.
Stede rose from his chair to meet Edward at the entrance of the study. He pulled him into a hug, whispering, “Sorry I left you alone out there. I woke up and couldn’t fall back to sleep. Thank you for being with me.”
Ed nodded into his neck, and they held each other tighter, neither wanting to let go, breathing each other in for comfort. Slowly Ed pulled back, bringing his hand up to cup Stede’s cheek. “I’m here for you. I meant what I said last night. I care about you. You’re my best friend. You’re family.”
He rubbed a thumb across Stede’s cheek to wipe away a tear.
“You mean so much to me,” he whispered. Stede nodded. “You mean so much to me as well.”
Slowly they parted and walked over to where Jim and Izzy were sitting. Stede shifted his chair, then pulled another stuffed chair over for Ed beside his own. They both settled in.
“Well, I think once we’re all ready,” he said after a comfortable silence, “we can have breakfast. I’m not much of a cook”—Jim snorted at that, earning them a glare with no real heat—“but there’s a nice little diner nearby. Then we head to the house. Nothing to be done about telling the crew first.”
Everyone nodded it all felt so heavy, unreal. Like any moment she would just walk into the room. Or if they went to the house, she would be in the kitchen smiling drinking a smooth after a run.
“Viejo, I’ll call Olu if he isn’t at the house,” Jim said.
“Right, good. I’ll go see if Lucius is in his room. He may have gone home with Pete, so we can try there if he isn’t at the house.”
“I’ll call Fang and Ivan,” Izzy said, “to let them know. I imagine they’ll see the headline. Unless you want to, Ed?”
Ed sat there, thinking it over for a moment. “I may not get through that call as easily as you, Iz. But maybe we do it together?”
“Yeah, together.”
Stede leaned back further into his chair, closing his eyes hoping that the world would stop for just a moment as he realized he needed to tell Roach. He let out the breath he was holding.
“I will be the one who tells Roach. Likely when we get there. We may want to hide the knives,” a watery laugh slipped out at his own little joke, “I reckon we just start calling the crew one by one, let them know. Them they can come to the house. It may be best to be around someone. Then, ah, maybe someone can,” his words faltered as it was hitting him in another wave. He felt hands arms wrapping around him.
Edward held him as the tears came, and Stede finished his thought shakily.
“Someone is going to have to field the calls from the rest of the BonaBon staff who may call. Tell them we’re closing, probably until further notice. A week…oh damn. We have the Red Flag…”
Then another pair of strong arms joined in. Izzy was there, speaking quietly in his ear.
“We’ll deal with all of that, Bonnet,” his raspy voice strangely comforting. “You don’t need to worry about any of it. Me and the boys—we’ve got it taken care of. You’re in good hands. That’s why you hired us.”
He nodded, he felt so grateful for the people he found himself surrounded by. No, his family. They would find her. They had to.
Chapter 9
Summary:
Stede, Ed, Izzy, and Jim go to the house. They have to break the news to the crew. Start facing the reality, figuring out what next.
The hardest part? Telling the crew.
Notes:
Another chapter today, tomorrow is going to be busy for me. I had this already to do.
I’ll come back later to link to Chapter 11 at the bottom, because Chapter 10 (I think is the one that may be graphic) so you can skip. If I got that wrong I’ll revise this note.
Thank you for the comments. This story has become a writing obsession for me. It’s nice to get it out of my head to share it with you after months of thinking about it and making notes about it.
Chapter Text
A few hours later, they arrived at the house. After showers and a breakfast at a diner that Stede had recommended they had made it to the estate at an early hour considering the earliness of the morning they had all awoken.
Buttons were there to greet them reporting that no calls had come to the house. That all was quiet. He left them letting Stede know he was available at a moment's notice should the need arrive of his services.
With a plan in place, Jim set off to see if Olu was home. Ed and Izzy went to make a call to Fang and Ivan knowing it may wake them up at this early our that bad news during a hangover was not ideal but better from them than seeing it on the front page of a newspaper.
Stede headed to the kitchen where he already knew Roach was up and about preparing for the day. He was not sure which he was dreading more, telling Roach or Lucius the news. When he gave himself a moment to think about it, Lucius may be the one he was dreading the most.
What he was not expecting was to see Lucius sitting at the counter drinking a juice talking to Roach. His stomach plummeted as both sets of eyes looked at him as he entered the room.
“Well, hello Captain,” Lucius sang out, “I did not expect to see you so bright and early this morning.”
“Morning Captain,” Roach said happily, “Breakfast?”
Both of their faces shifted from smiles to worry as they stared at Stede. He knew how he must look. Despite the shower, the attempts to put himself together. He had hardly slept, how much he cried.
How broken hearted he felt.
“Oh, no thank you, Roach. Not just this moment,” he tried to sound cheerful, even offered a smile. Which earned him a suspicious look from Roach.
A raised brow from Lucius who looked like he was trying to figure out a puzzle.
“Surprised to see you here Lucius. Up so early, especially after last night. I seem to recall quite a lot of heavy drinking and shots.”
“Oh, I know. But I also hydrated like a lot,” he said cheerfully, “But I’m here because I have been planning a little surprise for Char. See, I am going to kidnap her a little spa day. There is this great new place and I know someone who works there. They got me VIP comps, so it’s my treat—” but he didn’t finish sentence as he finally look at Stede whose face had morphed into a pained expression.
Stede broke. He knew Lucius hadn’t known, it was just a term used off hand. It was kind actually, weirdly thoughtful.
He could feel the tears, he saw their faces.
“Captain?”
It was Roach, he sounded worried. Lucius looked scared, too.
“I am afraid I have some bad news to share with you both, I would like it if we all had a seat,” he managed.
Roach nodded as he followed Stede toward the breakfast nook table in the kitchen. Lucius eyed Stede suspiciously as he hopped down from the stool he had been sitting on. Once the all finally settled, he took a breath to find some semblance of calm.
“I need to tell you both this, please allow me to get through it all before you say anything.”
They both nodded.
“Sure Stede, but you are kind of scaring me,” Lucius said.
“This isn’t going to be easy to hear. Last night, there was an attack at the gala. During that attack, Charlotte was abducted. Jim was injured but it was minor. We do not know who took her, Scotland Yard is looking into it. We don’t know who took her. I wanted to tell you before you saw it in the newspaper.”
There was silence. Both men looked at him like he had just spoken to them in a foreign language.
“Wait, our Charlotte…was taken?” Roach said.
“Yes, the people who took her used a high frequency sound to paralyze everyone at the gala then turned the lights out and covered the windows. Total blackout. Then they had a team come in and abduct her.”
“This is a really sick joke, Stede,” Lucius said with tears in his eyes as he got up from the table, “I really don’t care for it.”
Stede tried to reach out to him, “I’m afraid it’s all very real, Lu.”
“No, she can’t be..” the tears started coming, he turned running from the kitchen.
Stede sat back down at the table, feeling even worse than before. He looked at Roach whose eyes were watering.
“You’re going to get her back and make the bastards who took her pay, right Cap?”
“Yes, Roach. I am.”
“Good.”
In another part of the house Olu is sleeping in their room. He had driven Lucius to the house, having picked him bright and early having been bribed with passes for the spa. He had saved some money to treat Jim.
A special surprise for his partner in hopes of a rare moment of relaxation. He’d opted to take a nap knowing it might be awhile before they all showed up at the house.
Jim stands at the end of the bed watching him sleep, their heart feels so heavy with the events of last night.
How they are here with their person. But she can’t be here with hers.
They take off their boots quietly before crawling into the bed beside him. Snuggling close just taking in the moment listening to him breathe.
“You’re being really weird mi amor,” he says softly, “watching me sleep.”
“Had a rough night,” the words are rough, desperately trying to hide the pain they know is laced deep in their soul.
Olu shifts in the bed to look at Jim who is fighting back the tears, “Whoa, hey, hey, mi corazon. Are you okay? Did…did something happen?”
He is trying not to freak out because this is out of character for his partner. Jim just leans into Olu burying their face into his chest as he wraps his arms around them.
“There was an incident last night,” they said slowly, “at the gala. An attack.”
Olu lifted their face up examing it for a trace of injury, “Did you get hurt?”
They shook their head acknowledging that they had, “Inner ear damage of all things,” they huffed, “if you can believe it. My hearing, not great right now. Better than it was. Gonna take time to heal.”
He doesn’t know what to say to that. He wipes the tears from their face that are slowly falling.
“That’s…I need to tell you something, Naranjito. About last night. It’s not good news,” Jim sits up taking his hands into theirs.
“Did Charlotte get hurt? Wait she’s not..” Jim cut him off, a finger on his lips. Concern now etched on his face nodding that he understood.
“Please. I just…during the attack. They used high frequency sound. It rendered everyone to near paralysis, some people’s eardrums burst. Then they turned out the lights, covered windows. Just pitch black darkness. It…they—they used it as cove to abduct Charlotte.”
Dropping their finger their shoulders slumping as if the whole of their energy has now left them with the words now spoke aloud to him, sorrow and loss in their eyes, “I failed her. Failed Captain. I couldn’t keep her safe. When it stopped, when the lights came back on. She was just gone. I couldn’t hear anything but a ringing in my ears for hours. I saw the van driving away from a window by the time I could get to one.”
The tears started falling once more, harder now. Olu wrapped his partner into his arms, his own tears now falling.
“Mi amor, it’s not your fault. You did what you could. You know she would say the same. I know Captain has likely told you so. We will do what we can to help find her.”
The morning seemed to drag on. It was a torrent of emotion and sorrow. Lucius had locked himself in Charlotte’s closet. Jim and Olu were working on securing the main phone line keeping it clear and setting up the systems to monitor and track the phone line.
They checked that the other phone lines were set up and directed everyone to make use of those so that the main line was open.
Izzy and Ed had spoken to Fang and Ivan who were both very hungover but equally devastated by the news. They were on their way on the train to offer assistance in any way they could.
Stede was in his study on a secure line with Director Jenkins. Their main point of contact and supervisor at MI5. He was the head of their specialized operation, even as inactive spies.
They were discussing the options available in the current state of their roles within the agency. It was difficult, the resources available limited.
What he could offer was sending out an order for the analysts to monitor the chatter about any word or communications on the abduction. Maybe they could find a lead on who may be behind it. He agreed it sounded professional.
The Director brought up one option but Stede turned his idea down. It was not an option he was willing to take. In his mind, he thought, at least not now. It was still early enough, if they could get her back soon he wouldn’t even have to entertain it ever.
Eventually Lucius came out of the closet, the physical closet he was out of the other closet years ago. Even if he did convince his mum for years that he liked girls for a hot minute.
He got to work he set up an outgoing message for the BonaBon corporate phone lines stating: The offices of BonaBon are closed — An Official Statement will be released soon. We appreciate all the outpouring of care and concern. We will return all calls relating to business or urgent matters in a timely matter, we appreciate your patience.
Once he had that in order, his job was to make contact with some agents they trusted in their network through secure channels, setting up the lines of communication should they hear anything or be willing to assist.
Hour by hour the crew gradually arrived at the house.
Frenchie brought crystals to place in areas in the house to boost the frequency of the protective aura. Roach nodded along saying that the fairies would appreciate the boost, he would leave our extra treats.
Wee John gave Stede a massive bear hug sobbing as soon as he found him. Saying he would do anything Captain needed to help find her.
Pete was an inconsolable mess on the phone, they had to send Buttons to pick him up. He cried nonstop the whole way there and as he came into the house.
He cried telling Stede if has been there he would have used his karate to stop them, then Lucius and Fang led him to his room to console him.
The Swede called crying and said he would be at Jackie’s. He would let her know.
Frenchie, Ivan, and Wee John offer to man the phones to help contact the rest of the employees of BonaBon, instructions given that the offices would be closed at least for the next week. Eventually it was split between almost everyone on the crew to make short work of it.
Everyone would recieve paid time off for any time that the offices would be closed. Assurances that communications would be made with updates.
Spanish Jackie arrived at the house, offering to reach out to her underground connections for any information regarding the abduction. Stede appreciated the offer, she assured him her husbands would be available to him if he needed any reinforcements at any time should he want to take matters into his own hands.
That evening, the crew gathered together in the dining room for dinner. Roach insisted on cooking a big meal. He said it helped him focus and work through his feelings. No one would argue with him, especially when he had access to so many knives.
One of their more somber affairs as one would expect, there was some laughter and light-hearted conversation. It was clear they avoided talking about the one person who had brough them together, as she always had.
Stede sat at the head of the table, he was picking at the meal in front of him.
Ed beside him watching Stede more than eating his own meal, he leaned over whispering, “Hey love, you still need to eat. I know it’s hard.”
Stede turned to him as if in a haze a ghost of a smile, “I know, just it’s hard. I feel like I should be doing something right now, looking for her.”
Ed put down his fork, then took Stede’s hand into his, “What good would that do? Where would you be looking when we don’t have a lead? Besides, look around you.”
Stede did, he looked at the crew. At all the people he cared about. His family.
“They’re here because of you. Because of her, yeah?”
Stede nodded.
“She would want you to eat. To be in this moment, knowing that you are doing all that you can. There will be time to do the looking. Doing all that you can. Fuck man, I wish I could be doing more.”
Their eyes meet, a fond look exchanged between them, he squeezed his hand, “You already are. Thank you, Edward.”
“Course, what are best friends for?”
It had nearly been over one week since Charlotte Bonnet was abducted from The Grand Hotel…when the call finally came.
“We have been advised to tell you that your wife is alive. She is in good health and currently in one piece.”
There is silence.
“Is there a potential that she won’t be in one piece,” Stede says with a steel in his voice he can’t help it, that one point in their assurance sets him on edge. One piece.
“If you meet our demands, your wife will remain intact. She will remain alive.”
He noted they did not say unharmed that fact great bothers him but he knows not to push too hard this early.
“What are your demands?” he knows he needs to keep them talking, he needs to buy time.
“This will not be easy, Mr. Bonnet. There will be a series of tests.”
He feels like his teeth may crack, his fist tightens harder his nails digging into his palm. When he finds whoever this is, they are going to very much regret ever thinking about his wife.
“What is the first test then?” he says cooly.
“At 2200 hours tomorrow, you will go alone to the old storage yard on Holloway Lane. On the south side wall near the corner post, you will find a loose brick. Behind it there will be your next instructions. Make sure you are alone and no one follows you. If you cannot accomplish this test, well we can not keep our promise.”
The phone clicked followed by the tone.
He gripped the phone tightly his jaw hardened. It took him a few breaths to calm his temper. He looks at his hand, the blood dripping from where his nails had broken skin. He feels the tender touch then sees the long slender fingers pulling his hand up raising it.
His eyes meet the deep brown eyes, the deep sorrow. A warm hand on the edge of his jaw coaxing it to relax. The tension is still there; the anger is still there. It won’t abate, he knows it won’t, but it slithers away into darkness for the moment.
“She is alive,” he says but he can’t say more. He needs to make a plan, to talk to Jim. Ed still doesn’t know, he needs to tell him their secret. But not just yet.
Chapter 10 Warning [Torture/Graphic Details - Can Skip to Chapter 11] Cheer M'Queers xoxo
Chapter 10
Summary:
Charlotte finds herself at the mercy of the sadistic Ned Low.
Warning: chapter deals with torture and violence [can be skipped]
Notes:
Well my dears, this is the chapter. Not for the weary reader.
You can skip it, I do piece together a few things that happen in this chapter with a couple of characters in a later chapter so the story makes sense. And a key piece that happens here is brought up at the end of Chapter 12.
I am posting Chapter 11 right after this, so be sure to read the tags and go ahead - skip to 11 if you don't want to read this one. You won't hurt my feelings my dears. Much love.
Chapter Text
She wasn’t sure what day it was. These situations made it difficult to keep track of time, especially when the room had no natural lighting. She knew the tactic well, disorient your subject. Helps to break down the mental capacity, break down the barriers.
Means they become more pliable, less guarded as you increase the pressure of your interrogation. There were levels to the techniques, even an art to it if you were invested in doing it well.
She has seen so many just go at it heavy-handed, rush into with the intense techniques. Go right for the instant deep pain that really got the visceral reaction. Sure, it worked wonders. Especially on those who had no training against torture whatsoever. One broken finger could get most man blubbering like a baby, it was very effective.
Charlotte would be a liar if she said she had never used that technique in the past, when she was limited on time.
Low, well, he liked to take his time. Slow, methodical. He savored it. Despite being a horrible violin player, the man really took his time with every detail when it came to the technique of torture. She had to give him that.
Ned Low…loves the sound of his own voice. That alone was torture enough on its own, one would think it was his terrible playing. But with enough meditative practice one could learn to tune out sounds.
Unfortunately, she was trying to pay attention to the things he was saying. The idiot was keen to tell her all about his intentions. About what was happening. He was very confident he would be successful, who would she be telling.
So it began with wide leather straps.
Low circling her. Charlotte retrained between two posts by her wrists, her arms raises above her head at an angle. No shoes, she had lost a shoe in the incident. He other heel long discarded. Her ankles secured. She still wore her gown, with it being backless it already exposed enough of her skin.
Ned said it would be a shame to have her stripped or changed with she was so appropriately dressed for their performance together.
He would target her legs or arms at first. Focus on the same areas build the pain let it intensify until it was unbearable. Then take a rod or bamboo swatting the bruises with swift strokes. The stinging sensation felt like it was cutting the skin. At some point with enough force and repetition, eventually it would.
Then when he was satisfied, he would move to her back. Focusing on her upper back. He did not use the rod on her back. Just built the bruises for now.
Of course, he would take off her gag during these little duets as he called him. He wanted to hear her screams. To elicit sounds. She fought it; she knew it’s what he wanted. He also wanted information. As the sessions continued, he started asking questions. Not about Stede or their home. Or even about their company.
No, he was asking about an old assignment. One that someone like him should have no knowledge of at all. So clearly, Low is only a hired hand. A middleman.
Every time, every little session they have. Each time he intensifies his techniques, changes his tactics. She doesn’t say a word. But the sounds, he gets his satisfaction when she finally breaks her screams come soft at first.
As the techniques become more intense, more targeted at unhealed bruises and lashes no matter how much she breaths. Focuses on meditation, it becomes almost involuntary.
While it gives him his sick pleasure, her unwillingness to give him the answers he wants increases his anger.
Between each session, they take her to a small room with a cot. Her wounds are tended to by one of the mercenaries he has hired for his crew, her name is Hellcat Maggie. She brings her water and food.
Her gown is torn and dirty. It’s surprising it’s still hanging on at this point.
She is laying on her stomach as Maggie is tending to the cuts on her back from the last session. Low has how often they have their duets. This last one he started using a whip. He had grown angry that he had yet to get the sounds from her he wants, how can they make beautiful music together if she was not willing to participate.
The whip had broken her resolve, not a scream but whimpers had escaped her lips. Involuntary but the pain on top of the other injuries had finally been too much. Even she had a threshold.
“You know,” Maggie says in a whisper, “he’s just going to keep getting worse. Course, he has been ordered not to kill you.”
Charlotte doesn’t answer immediately, “So I have gathered.” Her voice is raspy, each breath is hard to speak. She is fairly certain one of her ribs is bruised from one of their so-called duets. Of course, knowing Low at this rate, broken ribs could be a likely outcome.
“You are either really stubborn for a rich bitch,” Maggie huffs, “no offence or you’re something else.”
Charlotte laughs then winces, “None taken. I’d go with something else, Mags.”
Maggie stops then, she sits on the edge of the cot looking down at the bowl of warm water now tinged pink with blood.
“Steak Knife,” she says slowly, “says he thinks that there is something else going on. That they are sending your husband on a weird scavenger hunt but it’s going to end in a setup.”
Charlotte turns to look at Maggie then, a look of worry on her face.
“A setup?”
“I think so, he wasn’t so sure. He’s a pretty smart guy, despite his name. He’s helped me take care of you a few times when you were less with it. You were nice to him.”
Charlotte nods.
“Thank you, Maggie.”
“You shouldn’t be fucking thanking me. We helped to fucking abduct you. Look at you, you’re like this because of us. We get paid to do shit like this.”
“Yet you take the extra time to make sure I am taken care of. Bring me extra food. Spend more time than you should to ensure my wounds aren’t infected, believe me I’ve met my fair share of people who would have just left me and looked the other way.”
Maggie sits with that for a moment. She picks up the rag then resumes cleaning her back. They fall into silence as she finishes tending to the lacerations. As she rises to leave her for the night, she turns back her voice still a quiet whisper, “I’ll find out what I can. No promises.”
Charlotte nods, “Of course.”
It’s another few days before the next duet. Either Low is letting her heal or he was called away, no matter the reason it’s not lost on her the break from the torture is a rare but welcome reprieve. It gives her time to recenter and focus, prepare for what may come next.
As usual, a gag in her mouth. She is bound, a bag over head as they led her to the room. Once she is strapped into the chair or restraint for the session. The bag lifted from her head. The room comes into focus her eyes land on a video camera and stand. Ned walks into her field of vision, a sickly smile on his face.
He looks displeased by her reaction because he frowns instantly.
“You don’t like my surprise?” he says pouting acting like she hurt his feelings telling him she didn’t like a gift he bought her, “here I thought you would be so very excited for us to film our recital for your beloved.”
His words hit her like a ton of bricks, each word sank deep into the pit of her stomach. Recital for your beloved.
Her face must have betrayed her just then because his face light up with a giddy joy, he clapped his hands as he danced around.
He pranced over to her, he grabbed her chin lifting her face as he came close whispering seductively, “Oh, and what pretty sounds you are going to make for him, too. This is going to be our masterpiece. I daresay, you will never forget it. I will get all the answer from you I want.” He said the last part with a threatening edge to his tone.
She wanted to vomit. He smiled, he saw it in her eyes. He may be getting a sick satisfaction from this, but she would make him pay.
He pulled the gag from her mouth, “What do you have to say to that my dear?”
She took a breath, felt the wince of pain, her mouth was dry, “I am going to get out of these restraints. When I do, I am going to slit your throat and watch the life drain from your eyes.”
She saw the shock flash in his eyes; it was brief but it was there. He recovered quickly with a nervous laugh, “Oh, you are funny, my dear. Did you hear that Hellcat? My, oh my. I had no idea how funny you are.”
He placed the gag back into her mouth. He turned to the camera, clapped his hands together looking pointedly towards Hellcat who was stepping up to the camera, she looked briefly at Charlotte with a look that said I’m sorry then look at Low who waved his hand, “Well, let’s begin. Hit record.”
Chapter 11
Summary:
Ed and Izzy meet with the CEO of Red Flag hoping to salvage the potential partnership deal. As the weeks go by, Stede is faced with several more tests give to him by Charlotte's abductors. He is realizing that he has no choice, he needs more resources.
Which means, he has to call MI5 for help. Not bloody ideal.
Notes:
Here we are another chapter.
Note, Zheng is Chinese right so this brought up some thoughts for the time period...
There is a bit of actual history I am keeping for my throwing out history for the time period as I Jenkin's this. In the early 1970s the Cold War was happening. The Soviets (Red Army) and China (People's Liberation Army). I chose for Red Flag to be in Singapore. Singapore was independent, anti-communist, and positioning itself as a neutral trade hub. And most of their population was Chinese. Of course, they had a lot of British influence, colonizers..amirite?
More history on some of this later because spoilers.
Enjoy. xoxo
Chapter Text
Not long after the abduction, Ed and Izzy contacted Red Flag. The CEO, Zheng Yi Sao, was understanding of the situation. Conveniently, she and her team were already in the country since they were here for the meeting and other business. Ed and Izzy arranged to meet her for dinner to go over the higher points of the proposal.
Zheng arrived in a fitted black suit, her long hair tied high into sharp pigtails that made her look both youthful and intimidating. Her presence drew eyes the moment she entered the restaurant, and when she sat opposite them, her gaze cut clean through.
“So,” she said, voice dry with a touch of amusement, “you want Red Flag to get into bed with the Bonnets. Figuratively, of course.”
Izzy bristled. Ed smirked he likes her. Zheng let the silence hang a beat longer before cracking the faintest smile. “Relax. I’ve heard good things. But talk is cheap. Show me what you’re offering.”
Ed slid a neat folder across the table. “Financials, projections, everything you asked for.”
She flipped it open, scanning quickly. “Impressive. Almost too impressive. Either you’ve cooked the books, or you’re better at this than I gave you credit for.”
Izzy muttered, “We don’t cook the books.”
Zheng arched a brow. “Good. I’d be disappointed if you did. Too sloppy. I like my allies competent, not desperate.”
Ed chuckled softly. “You’ll find we’re competent.”
Zheng leaned back, folding her arms. “Competence I can work with. Arrogance, not so much. Of course, Blackbeard's reputation is renowned. Don't think I don't know that. It says something that you're closely tied to them. Especially now, you could have easily walked away.”
Ed gave a short laugh, shaking his head. “Walking away’s never really been my style. Not when there’s a fight worth having.”
Izzy added, voice low but firm, “We’re not here for show, Zheng. If we say we’ll deliver, we will. You’ll get results.”
Zheng studied them both, lips twitching in something like amusement. “Good. I like a bit of fire. Just make sure it doesn’t burn you before it burns your enemies. But you know, I think it's more than business here. I did my homework on you two. So, clearly you think the Bonnets are worth investing in. Not just BonaBon."
Izzy and Ed exchanged looks before Ed turned back to Zheng.
"The truth?" Ed said as he leaned his elbow on the table, he had nothing else to lose.
She laid her hands out inviting him to continue, "Please."
"Yes, because you're right. If this had been any other company. We would have walked away."
She sat back considering what he said. Izzy was nervous, he knew this was always going to be a gamble. But they were in so much deeper now that even if they lost this. He knew he wasn't walking away. Nor was Ed.
"Okay, but to prove you are worth my time six months probation. You deliver what you promise, we move forward. You fail, I vanish. Simple.”
Izzy glanced at Ed, then back at her. “Fair enough.”
She smirked. “And don’t make me regret being generous. I’m not known for it. Have your people draw up the legal paperwork, send it to mine and we get it all signed and official. Let Mr. Bonnet know I hope they recover his wife soon.”
Her tone was direct, edged with humor but leaving no room for doubt. For the first time since the nightmare began, there was a glimmer of progress on something beyond Charlotte’s captivity.
Life became a rhythm of dread and duty. Stede managed to complete the first test without issue. Jim wasn’t happy about they hated the idea of being strung along with “tests” when Charlotte’s life was on the line. But as much as Stede agreed, there was no other choice.
Scotland Yard sent detectives to the house. They sat with Stede, insisting on tapping and monitoring the phone lines, surveillance, even a professional negotiator to help manage the calls talk to the abductors.
He turned them down, citing concern for Charlotte’s safety. The detectives weren’t pleased, but they relented, telling him to at least inform them if a call came through.
Afterward, he and Jim quietly discussed what scraps of information they would allow the Yard to see and what would remain hidden. Protocols on ensuring any outside interference from the Yard on monitoring, know they would not relent.
Then another call came. Another test. Harder this time. By the third call, Stede realized he couldn’t do it alone. It stretched their resources too thin. He needed MI5 resources. The deadline was generous enough to buy time, so he reluctantly made the call.
Director Jenkins arrived at the house in person. He didn’t mince words. MI5 superiors insisted that if MI5 were to lend full support, Stede had to recommit: ten years of active service.
"You mean ten human years?" Stede gasped affronted.
The Director simply nodded. There was no other option.
He assured Stede there would be no assignments until Charlotte was safely home and recovered. Reluctantly, Stede agreed.
Jenkins informed him he would send Special Agent Queen to assist, there would be a meeting point arranged. The agency suspected this might be more than a ransom plot, possibly something larger at work.
A few weeks later, another specialist would be dispatched to the house. Agent Viper, a tactical operative like Jim.
The conversation turned to Stede’s decision to reveal identities to Izzy and Ed was against protocol. At first, Jenkins was visibly displeased, but Stede argued their trustworthiness. Eventually, Jenkins conceded, saying they’d need to sign confidentiality agreements.
With a faint smirk, he added it wouldn’t hurt to bring someone like the infamous Blackbeard or Basilica Hands into MI5. Stede was stunned; Jenkins only laughed and admitted he kept tabs on the people in his agents’ circles.
Stede knew then, it was time to tell Ed the truth. Their relationship had grown closer, almost imperceptibly, but undeniably. He’d fallen asleep next to Ed more times than he could count on the library chaise, on sofas, even in Ed’s bed when Stede couldn’t bear to return to his own.
Izzy, surprisingly, had become a quiet source of comfort as well, though their old friction still sparked now and then.
One night, before the third test awaiting the message on when to meet Queen, Stede asked Ed to join him in the library. The fire crackled, warding off the chill that had settled in.
They sat together, the glow of the flames painting the room in warmth Stede didn’t quite feel.
“There’s something important I need to tell you,” he began. “Something about me and Charlotte. Something almost no one knows.”
Ed thought at first it was about their relationship about whatever undefined, growing closeness lingered between them. But Stede’s revelation stunned him.
“We’re MI5,” Stede said simply.
"Wait..you're what now?" Ed said looking at Stede with confusion.
“Charlotte and I. Not just agents. We are special agents. Spies. Our code names are Gentleman and Siren. Not even her father has clearance to know," he paused taking a slow breath, "And Jim, too. Their codename is Muerte. Lucius and Olu? They’re analysts.”
He looked at Ed not sure what kind of response he would get, but he was clearly still a loss for words.
His eyes unreadable as he stared like he was trying to piece it all together.
“The rest of the crew doesn’t know. Izzy found out by accident, please don't be upset, he just happen to over a call early that morning after the gala. I’ve been wanting to tell you, but I hadn’t found the right time until now. I’m afraid this abduction may be tied to it all.”
Slowly Ed sat back, his brow knit like he was finally seeing it all everything coming into focus, then look at Stede eyes, “Wait… Lucius works for MI5?”
That earned him a laugh from Stede, "That's what you're getting out of this?"
Ed just smiles widely, they both start laughing. Ed took Stede's hand into his. His laughter slowing,
"Fuck, that's a lot. I mean, I can see Jim being a badass agent. That makes sense. I think the idea of you and Char...no, can totally she her as an agent," he looks at Stede with a cheeky grin, "Bet you look sexy dressed in all black. Sneaking around."
Stede huffs rolling his eyes, "I wear suits if I can help it. I leave the wearing of black tactical outfits and sneaking around to Jim and Charlotte, honestly."
"I don't know, mate. I've seen you in a turtleneck. Fucking love you in a turtleneck," his voice low as he bit his lip.
Stede blushing furiously, "Yes, well. I do fancy one now and then. But uh, you're not upset?"
Squeezing his hand, "Nah, mate. I get why you didn't tell me. Are you going to get into trouble for telling me?"
"You and Izzy will have to sign some forms. Actually, our Director, who we report to, made an offhand comment about wanting to recruit you. Still not sure if that was serious or not," shaking his head shrugging his shoulders not sure what else there was to do.
"Could do. Could do anything," Ed said confidently.
"I have no doubt of that." Stede said fondly, "I wanted to tell you because some tests related to the ransom for Charlotte involve things that are dangerous. Similar to work I have done as an agent. I must use some MI5 resources and help. I may not be around as much because of it. I want you to know so you don't worry."
"Is it dangerous?" he said worriedly.
"Could be, but for Charlotte it's worth the risk. We don't have much of an option and few leads. Of course, MI5 is doing what they can to track down whoever might have taken her."
Ed nodded, "Jim, they're going with you?"
"As they can, but I need them here as well. For monitoring and security. I promise, I am doing my best to be safe."
"Can't lose both of my favorite Bonnets," his voice shaking.
Stede pulled him close wrapping him tight into his arms, "I know. I plan to make sure you have both of them back soon as I can.”
The next day, Stede received the coded message to rendezvous with Queen. He followed the instructions to the arranged location, nerves taut beneath his calm exterior. The spot was an empty greenhouse on the edge of town, glass panes broken and weeds curling through cracked stone. The air smelled of damp earth and rusted iron.
From the shadows, an intimidating Asian woman emerged, her long hair tied into two high pigtails. The heels of her boots clicked sharply against the floor as she approached, her gaze raking over him like she was assessing a purchase.
He had worn a sharp three‑piece suit, the dark fabric cut perfectly to his frame, waistcoat buttoned just so. His blonde combed back with meticulous care, every strand in place. It was the style he reserved for stepping fully into his Gentleman person. Polished, commanding, and as Charlotte has always put it alluring.
“I am looking for a fabric for my parasol,” she said smoothly, her tone carrying an edge of challenge.
“Might I recommend a fine silk lace,” Stede replied without hesitation, voice steady despite the knot in his stomach.
Her mouth quirked. “The Gentleman, I presume.”
He inclined his head. “Queen.”
He handed her the dossier and gestured for them to sit at a cracked stone bench. As she flipped through the papers, her brow furrowed deeper with each page. Finally, she looked up at him, expression tight enough to make his stomach twist.
“I’m going to help you,” she said carefully, voice low, “but I think you need to know something. I’m compromised on this.”
His brow arched. “Compromised how?”
“I know her. Charlotte Bonnet. This is Siren.”
Shock rippled through him. “How do you—”
“We’ve worked together before. An operation...actually several over the years,” she said, her tone clipped. “And that means I know who you are too. Because, fuck everyone knows The Gentleman and Siren work together. And are together.”
“You’re saying you can’t help us?”
“It’s not that,” Queen sighed, tapping the dossier with one finger. “It’s that we’re doing business together. And I rarely do business with other agents. Especially not our kind.”
Stede blinked, confusion slowly turning into a realization as the pieces clicked into place. “Wait… you mean… Red Flag?”
“Afraid so.” She extended a hand, deadpan humor flickering in her eyes. “Hi, Zheng Yi Sao, CEO. Nice to meet you, Stede Bonnet.”
He shook her hand slowly, still stunned. “So what now?”
She sighed, the faintest smirk tugging at her mouth. “Well, since your wife saved my ass more than once. And I have a deep fucking respect for Siren. I help you. And we keep doing business. I’ll let Blackbeard prove BonaBon is worth my time.” She shrugged like it was nothing.
"Well, how can I argue with that?"
Chapter 12
Summary:
The tests continue but with Zheng's help Stede is able to get through them. The trouble is these tests are starting to piece together a bigger picture that just doesn't make sense.
Why would someone like Low want all this highly sensitive information? Clearly, there was a bigger player involved.
Charlotte's resolve is holding but she isn't sure how much longer. Hellcat Maggie overhears a call that sounds very interesting.
Stede receives a special "gift" via courier (trauma warning).
Notes:
Hello again
I may be posting these almost daily because at this point, I have managed to really dedicate more time to writing than I had thought. But inspiration struck because as I have said, this story was pretty much mapped out in my head.
As I have been writing it out, I have changed a few plot points and it's exciting. It's coming together, which is exciting. It's also funny because there are a few points in the story that I have to make sure I have actually written down and just didn't think through in my head assuming I wrote it down (gosh, I hope that makes sense).
Because I have written so far ahead. I am going back and sitting with some of those chapters because I want to spend some time with a few of our side characters, be sure to give them love. It's easy to get a little Charlotte, Stede, Ed, or Izzy focused. As they are clearly the main characters. Zheng is going to get some more time in future, as you may be gathering.
It's a fine balance, indeed. But also for the sake of not making this a billion chapters long, because it's going to be lengthy.
No fun facts of history this time (yet) but I do have some bangers for you soon.
Actually, I lied, I just looked at Chapter 13. I have to finish it, there is a part that I need to write. That one is coming with a warning. It is key to the plot, may have a little note where the point of the violence sets in for those who don't like the squirmy stuff.
Love y'all.
Chapter Text
Over the following weeks, the tests continued. Each one grew more difficult, more invasive, more tailored to force Stede into actions that felt less like ransom demands and more like assignments designed to steal sensitive information.
Queen’s assistance became invaluable, her sharp instincts and experience steering him through pitfalls he might otherwise have stumbled into. Still, there was no mistaking the feeling that someone was tightening the net around him.
It was during this grind of tests that Archie arrived. Chaotic as a storm, she burst into the house fresh off an undercover assignment in Australia infiltrating a snake cult. Her entrance was loud, brash, and unapologetically herself.
The sort of manic energy the household wasn’t prepared for. Jim was the first to truly engage her, and within hours, the two of them were bantering and flirting openly. Olu watched it all with a fond smile, thinking it sweet.
Ed, for his part, liked her immediately, appreciating her boldness and her refusal to hold back. Izzy, however, was less convinced, the verdict still very much out. Stede found her oddly amusing, and Roach liked her simply because she shared his enthusiasm for food and was always eager to eat. He was always eager to cook.
As the tests mounted, each completed task brought with it pieces of information, fragments of something larger. Stede could see it take shape, the Director certainly uneasy about certain levels of information that had obtained during a debrief. The information being gathered was too curated, too deliberate. It was leading somewhere that sent off all the alarms in his mind.
He turned to Zheng, asking her to come to the house. Beforehand, he warned her that Izzy and Ed already knew about his MI5 work. She only shrugged, resigned.
“It was only a matter of time before they figured out who she is,” she said, and agreed to come.
It was rather anticlimactic when she arrived, Izzy and Ed were away at the office but still Stede knew that given the close ties they had now between two lives it was only a matter of time.
Olu was brought into the meeting to review the information and assist with doing a search into the database. The moment he and Zheng met, there was an instantaneous spark. Being two people who were usually quite level-headed, capable, and focused they were suddenly both very shy, even stumbling over their words.
There was a warmth in the way she met his eyes, a quick exchange of remarks softening into easy smiles. It was subtle, but unmistakable if anyone else had been in the room, except there was only Stede who was by all accounts completely oblivious.
His only focus was the information and task at hand. Wholly unaware at the little kismet moment of two people who most definitely might believe in love at first sight happening in the same room.
Several weeks later, Stede and Zheng having secured the final piece of intelligence, held another meeting in the library. The fire crackled as they gathered around the large desk, everything spread out on the table. An intercom connected to a secure phone set up with Director Jenkins on the other end.
“This isn’t just tests,” she said, her sharp eyes narrowing over the documents. “This is preparation for a sale. The kind of sale that sets governments trembling.”
Stede frowned. “But why? Why would Ned Low want this? Who would he even sell it to? The Red Army? The CCP?”
“Maybe,” Zheng said flatly. “He could fetch a decent price. But it doesn’t smell like Low. Sadists rarely play the long game, not his style. This whole thing, these tests of his. It's not his M.O. it's too curated, the man is flashy. This is calculating."
Over the speaker Jenkins chimed in, “Low is hardly on our radar, we have dug into his financials. No big payouts, so if he is the middleman then he’s holding her and his payment is coming soon. We have had whispers of a bigger organization, a group called Dominion. But nothing that we have would connect them to this.”
“Maybe whatever group that hired him, is waiting to get this information to pay him?” Stede sighed, he hated that theory, it was obvious but didn’t sit right. It felt too clean. Casting a glance at Zheng he could tell she thought so, too.
“It very well could be,” Jenkins replied.
Olu looking through reports, “No word of anything from the analysts at MI5. Only rumors about a big sale in motion. Nothing tied to Low, not directly that we can find. It’s all speculation that there is even anything happening. So, it could be likely that it’s like you said Captain. Whoever is hiring him, they get the information then pay up when he delivers.”
“No matter why they want this information, we need to control the ground where the exchange happens. If we let Low dictate terms, we’re done before we start. We can always figure out how to get track down where this information goes after.”
“We can put surveillance on Low once the exchange is made now we know who is behind the abduction,” Jenkins' voice cut through, “have agents placed to get eyes on his people. Find out where they go, then work from there.”
Stede didn’t disagree, but he couldn’t ignore the weight of her words. “We just need to prepared for anything. Low… he’s sadistic, unpredictable. He’ll bend the rules just to watch us break.”
The firelight from the fireplace caught in Zheng’s eyes as she gave a cold smile. “Then we’ll make sure the only thing that breaks is him.”
After the so-called recital, Low’s questioning was relentless. Their duets have shifting into desperate interrogation as if he is running out of time. For Charlotte it means a reprieve from his sadistic twisted attention as he focuses on obtaining answers rather than satiating his perversions.
She has yet to relent, which infuriates him further. Perhaps her relentless spirit or her kind words for Hellcat and Steak Knife, but the finally agree to assist her in creating a plan to free her. One evening, after leaving Charlotte’s room Hellcat overhears Low talking in his office.
He is angrily discussing his recent interrogation to someone, how of course he has tried everything short of nearly killing her to gain the answers they want.
“Listen here, Banes. We only have so much time left, so clearly soon it will be your problem. He has completed almost every task we have asked, with proof.”
“Your people have made contact with the KGB then?”
“Warwick Castle, the plan is to have Bonnet arrive through main gates after dark alone. No weapons, no backup. Your people will tip off Interpol and MI6 about the sell, then they catch Bonnet. Of course, his darling Charlotte will have long been with your people by then.”
“November 12th, 9:45 pm. The curtain will rise, the play will have begun.”
“She will be ready for you on the 9th. She’s tougher than you thought. I told you, she is your problem after that.”
The ransom exchange isn’t about ransom at all. It is a carefully staged sting to brand Stede a traitor. The KGB operatives arrive with cash in hand to purchase stolen intelligence. The packet filled with coded dossiers tied to nuclear protocols, classified MI5 operations, and state secrets, will look like a sale to the Soviets.
When Interpol and MI6 storm the site, tipped off at just the right moment, all the evidence points squarely to him. To anyone watching it will look as though Stede orchestrated the betrayal. No evidence that this was part of his wife’s abduction.
Hellcat quietly hurries back to Charlotte’s room, she can’t let this happen. This is not what she signed up for, she isn’t get paid enough for all of this. Besides, she really likes the woman. She finds her awake laying on her side staring at the floor quietly. Closing the door checking that no one heard her she quickly makes her way to Charlotte, “I’m in.”
Shifting her eyes from the floor she looks at Hellcat with a questioning gaze, “Get you out of here, get rid of Low. Kill him, whatever. I just heard him on the phone, the plan. What they are going to do to your husband.”
Charlotte perked up at that, she slowly lifted herself off the bed. Hellcat reached out to assist her, “Thank you. What do you mean, do to him Mags?”
She took a steadying breath, “So whoever he is working for, they have this plan. They sent your husband on a bunch of tests. Got him to get a bunch of information, stuff the Russians want to buy. The meeting spot will be at Warwick Castle, it’s near here.”
Charlotte’s eyes lit up with that new information.
“On the 12th of November, they plan on calling Interpol and MI6. It’s a trap, a sting operation to frame him. Make it look like he’s selling stuff.”
“Fuck,” Charlotte says, “but why? That makes little sense, what’s the bigger plan here?”
Maggie shrugs, “Whoever it is…wait, he said a name. Ugh, what was it?”
“It’s okay if you don’t remember, this is still a lot of information,” she says even though a name would be an invaluable lead.
“No, no…It was just part of a name. Something like Hanes. That’s not right.”
Charlotte was silent. She was hopeful, but they had only so much time left before someone might discover Maggie in here.
“Banes,” Maggie said triumphantly, “He called him Banes. But that’s it. They plan to take you into their custody on the 9th.”
She smiled reassuringly; she doesn’t recognize the name even this little slip of information was enough to find a starting point of figuring out who is behind this.
“Okay, thank you. That’s helpful. What’s the date, Maggie? How much time do we have?”
“It’s October 30th,” she said softly.
Charlotte wanted to cry, the end of October already. Obviously if she is talking about these things happening in November, then surely it’s close to that month. The gala had happened in late September, on the 24th actually.
Had she really been gone for almost six weeks? She felt a hand slide into her own, she looked up into the face of Maggie who looked sympathetic, “I know that’s a lot to take in, a lot of time to lose. But if you are serious about escaping and keeping your promise to Low. We need a plan.”
“Yes, a plan. Will Steak Knife help us?” she asked cautiously.
“I think he would. He would be really helpful to us, he’s the one who makes the calls to your husband in fact.”
“Then we need him to change the date. Make the call about the place, all the details that Low gives him. I would imagine if he doesn’t have it already, he will soon.”
“Okay, but when? We have little time,” an urgency to her tone.
“Guy Fawkes night,” Charlotte whispered.
“Really? But that’s this Friday?”
“You said we don’t have time. They’re coming for me on the 9th. So, tell my husband 11:30 pm Guy Fawkes night. Then we make a plan, because I am killing Ned Low that day one way or another then we are getting out of here. I am going to meet my husband.”
“Fuck, yeah. It’s weirdly poetic. I’ll talk to Steaky. I’ll let you know tomorrow, just get some rest.”
Charlotte nodded. Maggie stood up as she slipped her hand from Charlotte’s she grasped it looking up at her, “Thank you, I mean it. I will be sure you both taken care of. You have my word.”
“I weirdly believe you,” Maggie said.
Days before Stede received the new call for the ransom exchange, Low has sent Stede a package via courier. Unfortunately, Maggie could not intercept it as he had seen to sending it himself. His own delight, an extra touch as he said.
He included a handwritten message:
“For Stede Bonnet: A Gift from Ned Low — You’ll not want to miss this wonderful performance, starring your exquisite wife. A little token, a proof of life since you have been playing our little game so well.”
Stede takes the package to the media room, he makes sure that no one is around that he is alone. He recognizes the name. Ned Low.
Known criminal. Absolute lunatic. Terrible violin player if he recalls, the man fancies himself a member of the social elite. He and Charlotte had a rather memorable interaction with him some years ago during one of their assignments.
If Low has Charlotte, he knows they’re agents. But Stede has long suspected given the nature of these so-called tests, the Director was getting suspicious of why this information was wanted by whoever had taken her. Low is the kind of person one hires, not the kind of person who plans elaborate schemes. Not sophisticated like this, no matter how much he preens. Clearly he is the middleman. Not just any middleman, a sadistic madman with a pension for torture.
A pit in his stomach settled pushing the tape into the player. The contents of this video was one of two things, it was going to be a video of Charlotte proving she is alive with further instructions with Low taunting him. Doubtful leaving the worse scenario. Deep down, he suspects…no, knows it’s the worse of the two scenarios.
Low is clearly playing games with them buying time, there is no telling when they would get her back. They still have no leads on where she was being kept. This tape could give him clues, he needs to know what is on it before he tosses it to someone to analyse.
He would prefer not to give it to his team if…he doesn’t want to finish the thought.
A few deep breaths as he pushes the button for the video to start. He settles back on the sofa sitting on the edge.
Wavy lines jump across the screen until a room comes into focus, the camera turns the image blurry until settling on a figure he knows very well. Charlotte.
Disheveled hair. Mouth gagged. Bruising on her arms, legs, her gown she wore to the gala torn in several places. Black circles under eyes a combination of what little remains of her makeup clearly having not been cleaned from her faice, dark circles from lack of sleep mingled with bruises that bloomed across her cheeks.
His leg was shaking, his elbows resting on his thighs. His body tensing with the anger and despair at seeing her like this. His stomach churning, the bile rising struggling to focus knowing he has to disassociate.
Her eyes flash looking straight at the camera, the intense gaze of her green eyes. Anger, she clearly has not lost any of her ferocity. His heart swells.
Good, he thought. That means she is fighting.
Suddenly over the speakers the screeches of a violin grows louder as the instrument and player come closer to the camera than in view filling the frame. The music grating on the nerves. Low clearly had not gotten better over the years.
Low standing there finishing his song wearing a tacky silver suit, a smug smile on his face as he stared at the camera a few beats. Easing his arms down dramatically then setting his instrument and bow to the side. He comes back into view then gives a bow; he turns to wave an arm at Charlotte then gives her a clap as if he is welcoming her to the stage.
Straightening himself, he walks toward the camera a smug smile a triumphant gaze as he speaks.
“Well, well, well…Stede Bonnet. Or should I say, Agent Bonnet?” He winked at the camera, then pressed a finger to his lips in a shushing manner.
“While I couldn’t send you an in-person invitation join us in person for this recital, I am so honored to film this for you so you can enjoy our little duet that we have been spending so much one-on-one time practicing, doesn’t she lovely in her evening gown,” he motioned to Charlotte who growled at him. He frowned at her, “my goodness your little wife is..spunky, isn’t she.”
He had turned back to the camera giving a nervous little giggle then covered his mouth with his hand dramatically before continuing, “Well, we shall soon take care of that. You can thank me later.”
Stede wanted to bash that smug smile off his face. He could feel his body tensing.
“Well, I think that was enough foreplay. Personally, I find it quite boring and unnecessary. We are here for the show. A show you shall have as I make your wife make such sweet and beautiful sounds like you have never heard before.”
He couldn’t handle it, hitting the pause button he quickly walked over to the sofa grabbing a throw pillow. He firmly pressed it to his face then proceeded to scream as he pressed it to his face as hard as he could until he felt the anger fade.
It was that or punch a hole in the wall. He would prefer not to explain why there was a hole in the wall.
Once he regained himself. He pressed the play button sat back down, then resumed watching the video. He had to pay attention to what Low was saying. To the background. Disassociate that this was his wife, as hard as that was because one thing he knows about Ned Low.
He likes the sound of his own god damned voice. The man likes to monologue and talks too much. Stede was about to get a lot of information with a whole side of trauma to unpack later.
Chapter 13
Summary:
Stede finally gets the call. It's an odd one, he doesn't know what to make of it. Ed and Izzy corner him, they refuse to be left on the sidelines. It's Izzy who points out an odd connection of the date and location. Is it a message? They're not sure, but they should make a plan.
Days later, it's time. Charlotte, Maggie, and Steak Knife only have a short window to take down Low and make the rendezvous. But will they make it?
[note: violence end of chapter]
Notes:
I debated splitting this chapter into two. But decided to leave it together. It's a bit intense. But so far, we have had a lot of that. The end of the chapter is not as gory as I first imagined it, I tried to be as delicate but give you the idea of what happens.
But be warned and a heads up.
So, historical fun facts for this chapter.
GUY FAWKES! I was doing a bit of research, trying to figure out a good ransom spot, something close enough but you know not bad for a location for this to be that kind of place. I decided without any research otherwise on Windsor Castle.
Turns out, there was a bit of connection to Guy Fawkes and the conspirators. Rather fortuitous, right? Here I am, figuring out dates and timelines.
Did a little 1971 calendar research and thought, yeah around November would be kind of right. Oh, Nov 5th. Guy Fawkes day, but it would be more interesting if I could make it work for like a message. Charlotte trying to send a message. Hey, conspirators = heads up they're out to get you.
Then I found that little random nugget, it's not super direct line connection but enough of one? Anyway, here we are. I tried my best to make it work.
Enjoy.
Chapter Text
As planned, Steak Knife makes the call to Stede giving him the information for the ransom exchange. The thing is, Low is a lazy crime lord, he pays people to do the work unless the work is torture. Around midday on October 31st when it is time to make the call, Steaky is alone.
No one is monitoring so there is no witness or anyone who could say one way or another if he may or may have not given one Stede Bonnet the wrong date.
The instructions that Steak Knife was supposed to give Stede Bonnet is as follows:
On November 12th at 9:45 pm meet at Warwick Castle enter through main gates alone. No weapons, no backup with everything you recovered from your tests. Wait there until further instructions, once the items have been handed over and examined. You will receive what is owed to you.
The instructions that Steak Knife actually gives Stede Bonnet is as follows:
On November 5th at 11:30 pm meet at Warwick Castle enter through main gates alone. Wait there until further instructions. You will receive what is owed to you.
“What does that bloody well mean, owed to me? And what of the tests, the recovered information?” Stede said indignantly.
He was met with silence, then he heard paper rustling followed by a cough.
“Yes…November 5th. 11:30 pm. Warwick Castle, come through the main gates,” the voice said.
“You didn’t answer my questions. I have the date, time, and location,” he confirmed but before he could ask anything else, the call went dead. Stede looked over at Jim and Olu who were monitoring the call, Jim raised their brows as if saying What the fuck?
“Well, that was an odd call. Same voice and number?” he looked to Olu to confirm.
“Yes, Captain. All the same, not sure what that was about.”
“Think it’s a trap,” Jim asked.
“Anything is possible. But what other option do we have? We have four days to plan. At least we finally are closer to getting her back,” a ghost of a smile on his face. What is owed to you. Those words did not set well with him.
Jim could tell it was bothering him, clearly bothering them as well. The whole matter only created more damnable questions than answers.
The analysts at MI5 were running the video through analysis, he had gathered a few leads. He had made a few calls he hoped would turn up a few leads; he suspected this went deeper than just some small terrorist cell or faction.
Right now, they needed to get everyone ready to for extracting Charlotte and himself out of Warwick Castle. They will need to pull in all the agents here in one this, make sure all the high ground is covered and get there early enough to ensure no surprises.
Low hires mercenaries, they will be trained well. So if this goes pear-shaped, they have to have contingency plans on getting everyone out safely as possible.
Jim and Olu are going over the recording, documenting the call into the system. He will get with Jim on pulling information on Warwick’s layout, have Archie in on reviewing all the vantage points.
He sets out to talk with Zheng, as he opens his door he nearly walks straight into Ed and Izzy who are clearly waiting for him.
“Well?” Izzy says impatiently.
Ed is shifting from side to side, clearly nervous as he stares with big round eyes his expression hopeful. Stede sighs, he is not immune to that look. Not from Ed, or by Charlotte. Unless Lucius does it, then he is very capable of saying no. He lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
“We have a date, time, and place for the ransom exchange.”
“Good, so tell us what we need to do. Where to go, how we can help,” Izzy says staring him down.
“From what I have pieced together, mate. You’re going to need all hands on deck,” Ed said giving Stede a pointed look.
He stares at the two of them; he knows they’re both capable. Knows they have rather dark backgrounds of their own. One might even say…criminal, in nature. But he can’t risk more lives.
“You can be here for when we get back,” he says then tries to scoot by but Izzy is immovable the damn man is quite dense and strong for his height.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ed says a hint of anger in his voice, “just because we aren’t fancy agent spies like you lot, doesn’t mean we aren’t capable. You don’t think Iz and I know our way around a gun?”
“Or explosives?” Izzy adds.
“Hell, even Ivan and Fang. The point is, we can help. We care about her, too. This is dangerous, we know that. It’s less so the more people you have.”
Wiping his hand down his face, he knew what he was saying was true. Hell, he saw all of their backgrounds when Jenkins had sent over the papers. Because he was not kidding about recruiting them both. He was even keen on both Ivan and Fang.
Apparently, Fang had been in the Military. He was a fine marksman. Ivan, too, he had been in demolitions but not with her Majesty’s service that had been purely recreational so to speak. Not to mention Israel’s former secret Military career that he clearly was not keen to talk about or have known. Ed, well, master tactitioin and we can leave it at that.
They all had eventually found their way into consultant work together. Their lore as unique as the men themselves.
“Fine,” Stede mumbled knowing he would not win and it would be absurd to continue this fight.
“Whasss that, mate? Didn’t hear you?” Ed say teasingly.
“I said fine, Edward. We will all meet later in the library to discuss the plan. It’s happening this Friday, November 5th at Warwick Castle.”
“Guy Fawkes night?” Izzy asked.
“What?”
“That’s the fifth of November. Bloody Guy Fawkes night,” he said like Stede is an idiot and should have known. Which, yes Stede should have pieced that together and curious that it is happening that evening.
“You’re right. Maybe a coincidence,” Stede said but there was just something about it.
“Rather odd coincidence considering the connection of Warwick and Guy Fawkes don’t you think?”
He had Stede’s attention then. His mind reeled now with the history of the whole matter of Guy Fawkes, attempt to blow up Parliament.
“You can’t tell me in all your bloody reading you aren’t getting this? The conspirators I think there was a last stand in Warwick, they may have even stopped at the castle for horses I read somewhere. Point is, it’s a name that’s connected.”
“How the fucking fuck do you even know that Iz?”
“Just do, don’t ask stupid questions. Maybe it’s a message. They were conspirators, so conspiracy?”
Considering how odd the instructions were, this was making him feel more uneasy. Either this was a trap or a message. His gut feeling, his instinct is to go.
Make the plans, take the chance. Now that Izzy mentioned it, the connection of the date and place was coincidental enough and the late hour when most people were having a bonfire. Not significant, it’s quite a late hour. But the call just now, that was odd.
“The call that just came through,” two pairs of eyes were now on him, “On November 5th at 11:30 pm meet at Warwick Castle enter through main gates alone. Wait there until further instructions. You will receive what is owed to you.”
“Owed to you? The fuck does that mean?” Ed said with a scoff.
“No mention of the shit you took during those tests? They didn’t say no weapons or authorities? I don’t know, Bonnet, either this is a trap or a message. Unless our Charlotte managed to get to whoever it is that makes those calls, they’re either fucking idiots or this is a setup.”
“Have to agree with Iz on this one, mate. You’re calling the shots on this,” his voice sympathetic knowing full well this was feeling like a no-win situation no matter what they did.
Tilting his head back his hands on his hips closing his eyes letting all the new information settle into his head. What choices do they really have, they have no real leads on location. The place she was being held from what he could tell from the video looked like a room in an old manor.
Those are a dime a dozen in the countryside. They could be anywhere, but clearly if Warwick Castle was the spot to meet. It would be reasonable that Low chose it for convenience of travel, not wanting to make too much effort.
Narrowing down the area of where she is being detained. They cannot risk not showing up to this ransom exchange, so if it goes pear-shaped. There is a chance Low would not take the time to move to a new location. He may take his chances.
“We create a plan, we go. We can’t risk not going,” he finally says, “it narrows down the potential area of where they could be keeping her. Which is information we can give to MI5 and our team now. So, we have four days to plan and that many days for the support teams to search.”
“Right, sounds like a plan then,” Izzy says.
“Fucking yeah it does,” Ed says as he wraps his arms around Stede pulling him into a hug.
As the days leading up the November 5th passed, there was no sign that Low was aware of their plans. No hint that he suspected the double cross by Steak Knife, the change of date. Or the careful plans, the considerations of what to do if something were to happen unexpectedly.
Because Charlotte was determined to meet Stede at the rendezvous. And to keep her promise to Low.
They had burned the paper of the new message to ash; she had been very clear to leave no trace of it. This was their only shot, her only chance. Once the opportunity was gone, she would be in the hands of someone else. Stede would be…the thought was not worth any of her energy at the moment.
She knew it was the day, as Maggie had been keeping her up to date since it was easy to lose time. With her gown, she could not conceal any sharp objects or weapons.
The hand off would be quick when they were securing her to whichever of the restraints Low had decided on for their session. The restraints would be be left loose, allowing her to easily slip free so that when he least expect it. She could take him by surprise.
Surprise would be her leverage. She knew in her current condition; he was stronger than her. All her training was on her side, but her strength was not a factor. Quick, focused, and precise. Maggie would be close, she wasn’t alone. There was that, but if the others were close as they often were. They would only have seconds.
Otherwise, the only other option. For him, for all of them. She would do that, they couldn’t leverage her to frame him if she wasn’t here. But that was a last resort.
Maggie escorting her into the room, she was worried it was late at night. Later than his usual time. Maggie had whispered to her that if they couldn’t time this right, it may put them past the meeting time if they couldn’t take down Low.
Ned had been away all day. Charlotte reassured her, they would figure it out. They had no other option.
Gag in her mouth her hands bound. She noted another camera, another tripod. Not as close. The red light already blinking. A chair sat in the middle of the room. She had run through several scenarios over the past few days this was what she had hoped for; it was one he often preferred.
Charlotte sat, head bowed, forcing herself to look beaten. Maggie wrapped the restraints around her arms and legs slipping the dagger into her right hand before taking her position near the camera.
Violin music cut through the air it’s shrill song announcing the silver preening peacock waltzing into the room. A look of glee as he came near. His song coming to an end taking a bow before holding his bow and instrument toward Maggie for her to take.
He looks at her pointedly, “Leave us, you have duties to attend to. We are not to be disturbed.”
As she leaves she gives Charlotte a look that conveys her worry and concern, she nods to the door that she will be close.
She can’t risk a response but hopes Maggie knows message receieved. It’s not bloody optimal to not have backup, but she has no other choice.
“What a special day for us, my dear,” he said happily, “you may have noticed the camera. We are filming another of our performances. This one is for me, a little momento. A keepsake for me to treasure of our special time together.”
Low was spinning around his hands held high delighting in the idea, “My what a beautiful performance it shall be. I want you to know, it will be one that will be a lasting memory. One of the best I hold dear.”
She kept her focus on his movements, less on his words. Focusing on the task at hand. Low was too consumed in himself, he never checked bindings. His one fault, he left work for others. Too important, he paid people to do it. He was sloppy.
Waiting, patient, every muscle taut. Palming the small knife. Reminding herself to breathe, don’t move too quickly, not yet. She let him circle, let him lean close, let his words spill into her ear like poison.
It was when he really got close, talking about all the things he was going to do. His lips brushing against her ear, standing slightly in front of her leaning down. Prone. She struck. His head at the perfect angle.
A sudden snap forward, her head cracking against his nose. He reeled, cursing, as she spung to her feet. She has to be quick; he was recovering from the shock. He’s stronger. Six weeks of captivity has broken her body, not her will.
He lunges full of rage, good, he’s not thinking clearly to call anyone. She held the knife ready to strike, but he launched himself at her, knocking the knife to the ground where it skittered across the floor. They crashed to the floor. Pain lit her wrist as bone gave.
Low landing next to her moved quickly to pin her, but she moved quickly to restrain him first. Unfortunately, he realizes what she is attempting as he shifts throwing her, fuck she miscalculated. She lands on the chair awkwardly. Before she can rise, he is standing above her.
He strikes bearing down, his foot slamming on the side of her knee. A sickening popping, she screams but she can’t let him get her. She moves fast as he lunges for her.
They grapple, his fists hammering, her body screaming. Maggie shows up slamming a steel rod against his back he howled in pain paralyzing him giving Charlotte all the leverage she needed.
As she flipped him off of her. Maggie used the steel ride holding it against him as a threat to strike again, but the man was clearly in pain. He breathed heavily saying nothing.
She rose from the ground nodding to Maggie to help her. They grabbed Low dragging him the chair, Charlotte limping but managing, they made quick work restraining him. Once he was bound, his breath still heavy a laugh rose slowly, “My goodness, that was rather unexpected. “
Charlotte’s breath ragged, her broken wrist useless at her side, her knee throbs. She moves behind him. His head moving until he can see her no more.
Seizing a fistful of his hair, yanking his head up so his throat was bare. Her wrist is screaming, but she holds his head, then reaches out her other hand palm side up. Maggie places the dagger into her hand. She closes her fingers around the handle.
She forgot about the lens, about the blinking light only that she had him, prone, his life balanced on the edge of her decision.
He starts to speak, but she yanks his head back, then says hotly in his ear.
“Now it’s my time to speak you absolute no talent twat. I made you a promise that I would get out of those restraints. When I did,” she paused her words now slow her lips closer to his ear, “I would slit your throat then watch the life drain from your eyes.”
She lets the words hang for a moment.
“The thing is, you don’t even know who I really am.”
A nervous laugh escapes his lips, “Who is that?”
Keeping hold of his hair she slowly circles the chair standing in front of him, looming over him the knife in her hand.
“Siren.”
Her knife struck, clean across his throat. His death was slow, she could see the realization in his eyes as his life faded of who it was that he had the misfortune of crossing.
She looks at Maggie who is awe-struck, “Shit, are you really?”
Charlotte considers her for a moment, she is a person of her word, Maggie has kept to hers.
“I am,” she said softly.
“Are you…” Maggie asks her voice breaking, fear in her eyes.
“No, I gave you and Steak Knife my word. You’ve upheld yours. I trust you will keep my identity a secret?”
Maggie nods, “I don’t have a death wish. I know if you don’t come for me, Muerte will. I’ve heard the stories.”
Charlotte nods dropping the knife her leg finally giving way. Maggie rushes to catch her stabilizing her. Wrapping her arms around Charlotte’s waist, they walk slowly to the door. Steak Knife bursts in just then. He takes in the two of them then the room. His eyes fall to Low’s body then back to Charlotte and Maggie.
“Fuck, I guess it’s safe to say the plan so far is a success,” he said clearly impressed.
“Obviously, don’t just stand there. She can hardly walk, put those muscles to use,” Maggie said.
Looking down at Charlotte’s leg he winces then blushes, “Is it okay if I pick you up? We can get you a blanket cover you up.”
“Sure, Steaky. Whatever makes you comfortable,” She says.
The three of them make their way out through the back, timing the patrol. It’s only a matter of time before Low’s body is found but being that they’re mercenaries, it’s more likely they’re all going to run than stay. He was a dick; he treated them all poorly.
Loaded into a car, a blanket wrapped around Charlotte in the backseat, Maggie behind the wheel Steak Knife in the passenger seat, keeping watch on Charlotte. They are about an hour and a half away from Warwick Castle.
“What time is it now?” Charlotte asks as she holds her wrist close, her body shaking likely from shock rather than cold.
“Fuck, nearly 10:15. We are going to be late, if I drive fast and no delays. We will make it there just in time.”
She nods, so close. They’ll be there, she knows it. Surely a few minutes wouldn’t mean he just disappears suddenly and leaves. Knowing him, he would have Jim there at least to keep an eye out.
“Do it. Even if you have to drive through the main gate blaring the horn,” she says wrapping the blanket tightly around her leaning her head against the car seat. Her whole body shaking as she struggled to stay awake, the adrenaline crashing. Soon, she would be back to her family. With Stede, Ed, Jim, Izzy....all of them.
Chapter 14
Summary:
Guy Fawkes Day - November 5th, 1971. 11:38 PM... they are late.
Stede is standing there waiting at the meeting spot at Windsor Castle. The crew is in position.
Ned Low is a no show.
Now they are not so sure this isn't a trap, a sick joke, or if they are just running really late. Then in the distance a blaring horn, car lights, an a car that is not slowing down is coming towards the main gate.
Notes:
A happier chapter, grab the tissue box.
I have been spending a lot of time writing lately. Well helllooooooo, hyper focus.
Honestly, I am not even mad about it. My life is job search, HS son's school stuff, husband, cat/dogs, normal human stuff, and a lot of writing. So much writing. On my macbook, a lot on my notes app on my phone. Just snippets of things here and there. Then I smoosh it together like a ship into the chapters.
Which means, I am well ahead chapter wise. Goodie for you, because if you are like me when reading fics it's all "please sir, can I have more."
No fun facts today. We touched on the weird tried to make it work Guy Fawkes stuff.
I am so deep in later plot that I had to go back to check what this chapter was, I actually rewrote this one a couple of days ago. I thought of some things to add to it.
I will say, as a teaser for the next chapter, we are going to have a bit of a Christmas scene. Oh, and probably like one of my top favorite funny things I have written so far in the story. There are a few.
Cheers m'queers -- enjoy!
Chapter Text
Late. It’s 11:38 pm. Low and his people are late.
Stede checks his watch again. He has Jim and the team in his ear and he in theirs.
Ed, crouched low against the crumbling stone wall of the old outer court, had the best vantage on Stede. He’d insisted on it. From his position, he could see straight into the clearing where Stede stood waiting, nervously shifting his weight as though he could shake off the eyes he knew were on him.
Ed’s eyes never left him, one hand resting on the Sten gun slung across his chest. The old wartime weapon was simple, reliable, and deadly enough at close range. If anything went wrong, he wanted to be the first across that ground, ready to lie down fire if needed.
Izzy was further to the right, tucked behind a line of brush that ran up to the edge of the treeline. His job was to cover the approach from the east. If Low or any of his men thought to circle wide and flank, Izzy would be the one to cut them off.
A scoped rifle rested steady in his hands, the long barrel trained on the dark gaps in the trees. One shot, if needed, could end a problem before it reached Stede.
Jim positioned themselves along the north ridge, where the land sloped gently down toward the river. From there, they had the clearest angle to observe anyone trying to come in from the back trails or along the road that fed into the grounds.
Binoculars pressed to their eyes, scanning the hedgerows for any flicker of movement, watching for the first sign of anyone arriving. A sniper rifle lay within easy reach by their side, they’re the failsafe should anything go wrong.
Zheng had taken a higher perch. Settling into the broken archway that overlooking the grounds. She has the wide view, her perspective sweeping over the main area. Acting as the coordinator if needed should this turn into an ambush or attack.
But so far, nothing.
“Fuck, maybe they’re just playing with us?” Ed says finally.
“What would the goal of that be?” Izzy said clearly already annoyed, because this conversation has been happening for the last almost ten minutes.
“Duh, Ned likes to play games,” Ed said.
“Will you two pendejos Cállate,” Jim snapped.
“Calm down everyone,” Stede finally said, he was still standing in the same spot nervously walking around in circles, “We give them until 11:45 then we leave. I don’t know what else to do. We can’t stay here all night. Unless someone wants to volunteer to camp out.”
No one responds. Didn’t think so, he thinks.
An odd beeping sound echoes breaking the silence. They all snap their heads toward the direction where Jim is positioned.
“Did you guys here that?” Ed asks.
“Shut up,” Izzy snaps.
“Wait, I see lights,” Jim says.
They all go silent, on edge. Maybe it’s finally them. The honking sound gets louder which is rather odd.
“Shit, it’s coming closer. A car, they’re moving really fast,” Jim says, “Like really fast. I can’t make out who it is.”
They’re all getting into position.
“Just the one car then,” Zheng asks.
“Yeah, just one. It’s sounding it’s horn. It’s about to hit the entrance,” they’re still saying, “holy shit they’re coming in hot.”
They can all hear it now, the engine roaring the horn blaring. The light is now flooding into the area.
“I’d move Captain, they are not slowing.”
Stede moves quickly towards where Ed is as the car is careening into the area. It skids around, dangerously turning as it’s fighting to come to a stop kicking up dust. No one can really see anything, as dust swirls in the headlights. The horn still blaring.
A voice yelling, “Fuck, it’s stuck. I can’t get the damn thing to stop blaring.”
After several sounds of banging the horn of the car slowly dying while the dust settles. Without warning, the driver and passenger doors fly open. Everyone has their guns at the ready.
Stede is rising from where he had been crouching, dusting himself off straightening his clothes.
A pair of hands are coming out of the driver side door high in the air, a woman stands covered in blood, “Listen, I know you have guns. Don’t shoot. Listen, the big guy in the passenger seat. He’s going to get out and go to the back. Just don’t get trigger happy.”
Stede moves forward, “And you are?”
The woman jumps lowering her hands, “Oh, yes. I’m Hellcat Maggie. You must be Mr. Bonnet.”
He shakes his head, “Your friend there?”
“Oh, that’s Steaky. I mean Steak Knife.”
“Ah, I see. Well, why should we allow him to move toward the back?”
“Oh, yes. Right. Your wife is back there,” she says like they should have known, “she asked him to help her get out is all.”
Stede, stunned in silence, nods his head. Steak Knife moves to open the back door.
Everyone is hissing in his ear talking at once. Ed is now moving close to him coming out from his position. He can see Izzy moving forward from his approaching quickly.
Then the man rises from the back then walks around the car, in his arms is his Charlotte. Battered, bruised, covered in blood.
She smiles weakly at him then at Ed behind him, “Hello Sun. Hello Star. Is my Anchor here?”
Stede and Ed exchange a look of confusion. A choked sound from the other side as Izzy joins them, he quickly comes into her view he kisses her forehead and whispers something before moving away.
“Hello,” she says softly.
Stede goes to take her into his arms as the man, Steak Knife…odd name, gently transfers her. He holds her close. Notices her cradling her wrist. He cups her face, “My Moon. You’re really here, but how. How are you here?”
“A little help from my two friends here,” she nodded, “they helped me. I hope you got my message. About the conspiracy, not exactly straightforward. But Hellcat Maggie can give you some details. They both can lead MI5 to where Low’s body is and where they kept me.”
“Body?”
“He’s dead. It’s how I got away,” she said as she lay her head on his shoulder her eyes drooping.
“Darling,” he looked over at the woman, “Hellcat Maggie is it, what happened.”
She rushed over, “Hey Charlotte, don’t go to sleep. Fuck, it’s the shock. She fought Low, I helped as much as I could. She killed him. He did some damage, I think her wrist is broken. He fucked up her knee. She needs a hospital.”
Izzy was beside him right then, “Give her to me, Bonnet. We have to get her to the hospital now, its 45 minutes. Less if someone drives fast, I have some field medic training back from my military days. We have to go now. Zheng or someone can stay with these two, handle the rest. But we have to go now.”
Stede only shook his head, he let Izzy take her. He must have called Jim they were pulling up one the van they had brought. He got Charlotte in the back. He turned to yell at Ed, “You make sure he gets to the hospital with us. Figure it out. Then turned to Jim, drive fast.”
“Ya voy!”
Several days later, somewhere in England, a telephone rang in the corner of a dimly lit office. The man seated behind the desk set his cigar in a glass tray, the smoke curling upward in lazy spirals.
A heavy signet ring glinted as he adjusted the newspaper beside him, its bold headline screaming across the front page: CEO and Daughter of Home Secretary Safely Recovered after Abduction.
He lifted the receiver with deliberate calm. “I gather this is to tell me you have failed.”
From the other end came the sniveling voice of Richard Banes. “Well, you see… Ned Low was killed. MI5 was crawling all over the place. And the scheduled sale for Bonnet’s setup—there seems to have been a date gotten wrong.”
“I don’t care for your excuses, Banes. Failure is a failure. Clearly, you could not complete one simple task. No matter. We will be testing Project Mnemosyne. It’s an opportune time to launch. However…” His tone cooled further, each word a quiet threat. “We may have to reconsider your membership in Dominion.”
“Oh, but Sir, please! I can prove to you I am worthy. If you would but give me another chance. I am a minor prince, after all.”
There was silence, so long that Banes nearly lost his nerve.
Finally, the man replied, clipped and final. “We shall see. I may feel benevolent and give you another. You’ll receive communication when the time comes.”
“Oh, thank—”
The line went dead before Banes could finish his groveling. The figure in the office sat frozen for a moment, then snatched up the newspaper. On the front page was a smiling photograph of Charlotte and Stede, taken before the abduction. His lip curled, words hissing out between clenched teeth.
“Stede fucking Bonnet… you will get what is owed to you.”
Charlotte Bonnet bore the tally of six long weeks in captivity across her body. Thanks to Hellcat’s quiet interventions she had been kept alive with food and water, her strength never completely broken, but her body still showed the strain.
Her wrists were raw and scarred from bindings. Her left wrist, fractured, swollen and painful, but physicians had set it properly soon after and secured it in a cast.
Her right knee, dislocated, had been reduced and braced, leaving it stiff and unsteady.
She carried bruised ribs, at least three, and countless other bruises in shades of purple and yellow. Healed lacerations marked her arms and torso. A deeper gash along her side had scarred roughly. Her back bore lash marks, and burns marred her shoulders and arms. Many healed over, other rather fresh. Her arms bore similar.
A split lip had healed unevenly, and bruises lingered on her jaw and temple. Her hair, once immaculate was a mess. Steak Knife had smuggled in a comb to help her brush it, so it was not as bad as it could have been.
Every injury was survived, and none had taken her resolve.
Jim and Israel had made record time getting her to the hospital in thirty minutes. It was almost another twenty minutes when they arrived when Stede and Ed arrived. She had been instantly taken back by the emergency response team to be triaged, tested, and treated.
After several hours of nervous pacing in the waiting room, they allowed Stede into her room once she was settled. They reported all of her injuries, that she had not required major surgery. No internal bleeding. Only slightly malnourished and dehydrated.
Another twenty-fours hours later, and a lot of angry threats in Spanish, Jim was permitted into her room.
The day after, Ed and Izzy were permitted.
One week after Charlotte was recovered, the crew were allowed to visit her during visiting hours in small groups. Roach brought a ridiculous amount of food for the entire floor for all the staff, winning him instant favor and respect. There were tears and relief.
Stede, Izzy, Ed, and Jim took turns in shifts staying with Charlotte at the hospital. Zheng worked with MI5 along with Hellcat and Steak Knife to investigate Ned Low’s hideout where he kept Charlotte. Providing a lot of evidence, information, and potential leads. Zheng ensured that Hellcat and Steak Knife were not take into custody. Stede insisted on paying them for helping Charlotte, but they turned the money down.
It was late one night, heading into the third week at the hospital. Charlotte had been sleeping well. Stede had slipped out to grab a cup of tea. Zheng would be nearby, now she was done with the investigation she took to spending time at the hospital as an extra layer of security. There had been an altercation on the other side of the floor, enough that Zheng had come out to see what had happened.
Charlotte had awoken hearing the nose. She spotted Zheng. As she turned to leave seeing it was nothing, she made eye contact with Charlotte.
“Queen,” she said.
Right then Stede and Ed came down the hall. Stede seeing Zheng near Charlotte’s room he called out, “Zheng, did something happen. Is she all right?”
“Well fuck,” Zheng said knowing there is no way she can avoid this converation with Charlotte now.
Stede has made it to Zheng now, Ed not far behind. He looks into the room seeing his wife awake and clearly confused. His gaze meets Zheng’s she looks apologetic, she turns quickly towards the door then walks into the room.
“Hey girl, how are you?” she says softly.
Charlotte stares blankly at her, her eyes shifting to her husband who is nervously avoiding her still standing in the hallway. Ed not in view, but her guess he isn’t far away.
“Tell me why one of the most renowned MI5 spies is here in the hospital clearly hovering outside my room?” she said rather curtly.
“Oh well, I mean—,” she paused taking a moment, “I was in the area and —”
“Nope, try another one,” cutting her off, “Queen.” Charlotte saying her code name with an acidic tone to her voice. Clearly upset.
She hears Ed whispering to Stede, “Fuck, I don’t think I have heard Zheng sound so intimidated by anyone before.”
Zheng casts a glare towards where his voice is coming from then turns her focus back to Charlotte.
“They assigned me to assist with the ransom tests Low assigned, the ones he dangled over Stede’s head to get you back,” She finally said.
“Why would you be assigned to do that?” Charlotte asked then her eyes darted towards Stede, “Why would they assign a special agent. What don’t I know?”
He comes further into the room wringing his hands nervously, “The thing is darling, the tests. They were more like espionage. Gathering information, dossiers, classified information…the kind of things that we did not have the resources for,” he paused choosing his next words, “any more.”
Silence hung in the air, tension building.
“What do you mean by did not have, Stede?” her voice was low, almost a whisper.
“I can tell you are getting upset. We can talk about this later, when you are feeling better, more rested and healed,” he countered.
“You’re going to tell me now,” her teeth gritted her eyes closed, she was clearly keeping her composure, “there is no later for this.”
“Ah, well you see. The Director and I came to a sort of agreement. Since Queen, well Zheng was already here. Being that she is the,” he looked at her for confirmation she waved her hand for him to continue, it was far too late now and Charlotte was going to find out soon enough. “Is the CEO of Red Flag, so it was rather fortuitous she was here and could assist. Of course, we discovered she knew you.”
Charlotte held up her hand. He paused giving her a nervous look.
“Can you and Ed give us a moment alone,” it wasn’t a question, “I would like to talk with my husband privately,” Charlotte asked.
Zheng nodded leaving the room rather swiftly closing the door. She and Ed exchanged a look. This was definitely not going how any of them had hoped. They pressed their ears to the door.
They then heard a loud yell.
“What do you mean ten years of service…ten human years?
Ed snickered. It was followed by a loud…
“That’s what I said. Director Jenkins confirmed it.”
There were more raised voices followed by silence then raised voices. Eventually, footsteps. Zheng and Ed both hurried from the door scooting down the hallway like they had just been hanging out waiting patiently when Stede stomped out of the room.
A look of anger clearly on his face walking down the hallway.
“Fuck, I think I should go after him,” he nodded.
“Yeah, I’ll go talk with her. I don’t think she is really mad at him honestly. It’s a shit situation. Bad timing to find out, you know?”
He nods, she isn’t wrong. He hurries after Stede. She watches him go before turning towards Charlottes room. As she nears, soft cries come from the dark room.
Slowly she slides through the door left ajar when Stede had left. Closing it behind her she walks quietly towards her friend. Sitting on the edge of the bed, her hands in her lap she sits quietly. Charlotte continues to cry.
“I can’t remember the last time we had a fight,” she sniffles.
Zheng reaches for the box of tissues from the nightstand holding them out for her to take a few,
“Sometimes it happens because it’s needed. It happens even when you aren’t even upset with the person. The situation or life is just being shitty. It builds up, they are involved or close. Collateral damage, I suppose. I guess it’s what you do after that makes the difference.”
She hears more sniffles.
“They have been wanting to get one or both of us back into the fold for years,” she says quietly, “I knew the contracts, taking assignments here and there would only satisfy them for so long.”
Tilting her head back looking at the tiles in the hospital ceiling she thinks about that, her own service in MI5, “Yeah, kind of stuck. We don’t get retirement. Land us in a desk or some weird leadership position I suppose.”
“I guess this is better than what they planned for him if the real plan had gone through,” her were words almost a whisper. It piqued Zheng’s attention, “The date of the exchange, the one you had Steak Knife change?”
“Yeah, why I chose Guy Fawkes. The location was a happy coincidence. Banes, that’s the name of who Low was talking to. Maggie over heard a call. The tests, all of what he gathered. If he had gone on the real date at the time planned. Interpol and MI6 would have shown up, it would have looked like he was selling it to the KGB.”
“Fuck,” Zheng said, “Hellcat only told of some of that. Clearly, there were some details she missed.”
“She could barely remember when she told me. Lucky she came right to me after she heard it, sorry I didn’t say something sooner.”
Zheng lay a hand on Charlotte’s leg rubbing her thumb slowly in circles, “you’ve been recovering. Things did not go as they had planned. You’re both safe. We can look into it.”
“But someone clearly wants to frame Stede. Whoever it was they had also never planned for me to come back to you all. Their plan was to take me from Low on 9th, take me somewhere else. Then the fake ransom exchange was supposed to happen on the 12th to frame Stede.”
A squeak came from the door, they both turned to see Stede. Ed behind him. Tears in his eyes. He rushed to her side.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know how close I was to losing you,” he held her gently, “someone was trying to frame me?”
She ran a hand through his hair, “but I’m here. Narrowly, but I am. Yes, whoever it was, they may come back after us. We will just have to be prepared. Be a team. All of us.”
She looks from Zheng to Ed, both nodding in agreement. She knew this was far from over.
Chapter 15
Summary:
Charlotte has been home recovering. BonaBon makes a major announcement bringing a big change to the company, but also in the lives of the Blackbeard Crew.
The crew celebrate Christmas together, with a very touching gift exchange.
Recovery is long. It can be frustrating, laughter, and sometimes trauma rears its head.
Notes:
This chapter is LONG. But it didn't make sense to cut it up.
I love this one, the Christmas scene hits. Then we get into a time lapse with snippets of life as they all recover, not just Charlotte. There are some moments that I found so funny to write. I was laughing just thinking about them. Then again as I was making notes in my phone.
But of course, as the chapter gets to the end a little warning about trauma.
No fun facts for this one. As I am writing out the story, there are going to be a lot of chapters I am finding.
1. You may be picking up on some romance for more than one pair? So, finding a balance of focus.
2. Big overarching bad guy plot
3. Small bad guy plots that will pop up, like Low, but more as we get to the final boss.So, there are things I have cut to help balance out the story. Going back, rethinking areas of heavier dialogue if they are needed, things like that.
Love the comments. It warms my heart that so many of you are reading, taking this journey with me. Loving the characters. Picking up on the little jokes or comedic relief moments where it hurts.
Enjoy m'dears!
Chapter Text
It’s been a long, nearly two months since the day Charlotte showed up with two mercenaries beaten, bruised, in shock at the rendezvous location. A day that she saved Stede’s from being framed. They were still no closer to knowing who had hired Low or why they wanted her. Only the name Banes, a few leads but no real answers.
A few weeks after she came home from the hospital, despite some protests from the three very dear men in her life, she insisted they have a serious conversation.
Of course, they were reluctant to talk about business, but she knew in this condition she would not be able to perform her duties as CEO for awhile. Needing to take a lengthy sabbatical.
A few weeks later, a press release announcing the acquisition of Blackbeard Consultants was sent every major newspaper and outlet in England. Including, the appointment of Edward Teach as Chief Operations Officer, COO, and Israel Hands as the Chief Security Officer, CSO.
A bold move to strengthen their company, since it Charlotte would need time to recover. Ed, as COO and second in command, be able to act in her stead while she is out of action. Also, would strengthen their standing for the partnership with Red Flag, which they announced three weeks after their announcement of the Blackbeard acquisition.
Of course, Fang and Ivan were both given positions within BonaBon. Fang was appointed as Director of Operations and Ivan as Head of Client Security Liasion.
Helping to fill in some much needed gaps within the BonaBon corporation. Also, the Blackbeard crew had quite endeared themself with the crew here. The idea of everything coming to an end and leaving for London, on to the next contract left them all a bit sad.
Ed couldn’t leave his favorite two Bonnets at a time like this, sure he was successful in getting even a probationary contract with Red Flag. But what was waiting for him in dreary old London, anyway? Certainly not hazel eyes and soft blonde curls with big thick freckled covered arms. Or a certain green-eyed, fierce friend whose side he was afraid to leave even for a moment.
Fang, well he most certainly was very much the third in a very passionate throuple of Pete and Lucius that he liked very much thank you. Lucius likes his cheekbones. Pete is very sweet and likes to cuddle.
Ivan quite likes spending his time with Roach, learning to cook. Or popping around to Jackie’s with Swede to play cards with all her husbands. Frenchie also plans on bringing him in his next business adventure, something about pyramids.
Then there is Israel Hands, who finds Bonnet only slightly more tolerable than when they first met. He supposes BonaBon could use a CSO considering the shape it's in, especially if they want to actually partner with the likes of Red Flag.
Edward needs him, they have worked together for a long, long time. If you were to press him, he would deny openly anything about his decision to stay having to do with someone with the initial of CB.
During that time, they celebrated Christmas and Boxing day with the crew. In lieu of the usual Bonnet and BonaBon Christmas party, they sent out generous Christmas bonuses and gifts far more generous than years before.
They had a party and an intimate dinner with the crew at the house on Christmas Eve. The crew stayed the night for a gift exchange on Christmas morning filled with laughter, Christmas crackers with crowns and jokes.
Charlotte who had insisted on being part of all of it, Ed and Stede assisting her down to the main sitting room where all the crew was gathering. Settling her on the oversized sofa with a plush ottoman so she could lounge comfortably but sit between Stede and Izzy.
Ed on Stede’s other side wearing an amethyst cashmere sweater from his favorite Bonnets. Everyone was well into the gift exchanges, spiked holiday drinks. Breakfast treats. And laughter filled the room. Everyone grouped in their own little worlds. Fang, Pete, and Lucius. Zheng, Olu, and Jim.
Frenchie and Wee John. Ivan, Roach, and the Swede. Buttons and Karl who were in their own little world, opening gifts from the Bonnets and the crew. Karl mostly enjoying his treats from Roach.
Ed was opening his gift from Stede, a string of freshwater pearls. Tears welling in his eyes as he leaned closely to Stede, who was brushing a strand of hair behind his ear as he watched him gently touch each of the pearls.
“Fuck mate, these—” he choked, “they’re too much.”
“Not at all, I saw them and knew they were meant to be yours. Put them on,” he said softly. Ed was well ahead of him as he was slipping the strand around his neck. The clasp in front of him. Once he closed it he twisted the necklace in place.
Beaming he looks at Stede, big brown eyes now watery. Stede motions for him to come closer. He moves closer, their hips touching hardly any space between them.
Stede places his arm along the sofa behind Ed as he runs his fingers from his other hand along the necklace slowly before smoothing Ed’s hair back slowly from his shoulder. He leans in close, “You wear fine things well.”
“You can’t say things like that,” Ed says with a soft gasp. Stede smiles at him.
Ed hands him his gift. He chews his lip looking at Stede nervously.
It’s a small square box wrapped in dark green wrapping paper. A few days ago he’d gone to Charlotte to help him wrap it. With several frustrating attempts he had not managed to wrap it himself and was about to set it all on fire (which he did not).
As the paper fell away, revealing a wooden box, polished and red. He nervously wrung his hands as Stede slowly opened the small box. Watching as Stede’s face lit up. They crinkled as he smiled his fingers brushing the treasure inside.
“Oh Edward, darling,” lifting the vintage brass compass from the connected box a chain and fob dangling.
“Found it in London when I was at m’flat, just a little shop. Me and Iz, we were out Christmas shopping. Saw it, the man at the antique store said it’s brass. Can wear it like you wear one of your pocket watches.”
Running his fingers over the smooth brass of the compass, clicking open with the little mechanism. Revealing a beautiful hand-painted compass rose. The dial floating pointing toward North. As he was admiring it, his eye caught the engraving on the inside of the cover.
Tilting it up he saw that it read:
“Stars be your guide, may you find your way back to me.”
“Oh Edward, starlight,” he said tears gathering in the corners of his eyes.
Smiling nervously leaning closer to Stede, taking his hand into his own then wiping a tear from Stede’s cheek, “My best friend. You mean so much to me.”
Reaching his hand to cover Ed’s his heart beating heavy in his chest, “You have no idea how much you mean to me. Oh, Edward. My best friend, having you here. Don’t know what I would do without you.”
Izzy by Charlotte’s side he was holding a gift box he had just opened, a folded a dark emerald green blended cashmere wool cardigan with tissue paper wrapped around it. He sat there staring at it while she was talking about the gift nervously. Partly explaining that she sent Lucius to purchase it, with very specific instructions for obvious reasons.
“It’s a cashmere wool, you always talk about how ‘fucking drafty this fucking house’ is and how ‘of course Stede fucking Bonnet’ has a house that can’t stay warm…yes, I have heard you,” she laughs teasing him but continues as he does not respond.
“To keep you warm. Also, the color…you see, I think it will make your eyes look absolutely lovely,” he looks up at her his expression unreadable, “stand out, that is. They’re quite nice to look at. Also, nice to see you in a color that is not black.”
Her voice trails off. Lifting it out of the box, rubbing it between his fingers, he sits there staring at it as if in a hypnotic state. She was starting to wonder if he didn’t care for it or might be upset.
“Oh, do you not like it? I can have it exchanged or—”
She said quietly a hint of disappointment in her voice. His eyes snapping to her face, quickly reaching out and taking her hand into his own. The cardigan still in his other, as if he clinging to it. Meeting his gaze shocked at the suddenness of his movements she gave him a questioning look.
“I—I love…y-It. It’s soft. Thank you. I like the color, dark for a green,” he said softly, casting a quick glance around the room ensuring no one was listening. Especially, twatty in the corner with his two boyfriends.
Once he was sure everyone was well absorbed in their own company. He squeezed her arm turning his attention fully back to the woman before him. His chest feeling tight, a lump in his throat as his heart beat faster.
“Yes, well. Despite my desire to see you in color. I know you prefer darker tones.”
He rose slightly, placing the box on the floor. Her eyes following his movements, he could feel the heat of them. Slipping the cardigan on over his shirt, adjusting it, the fit was perfect. She must have given Twatty very specific instructions.
So soft, the softest thing he had ever owned. As he was taking his place beside her, he made the conscious decision to move closer to her. Picking up his gift for her settling as close as he dare.
He saw the blush on her face, she clearly caught on to what he was doing but he felt the need to be closer to her. Especially to give her his gift.
He handed her his gift wrapped in a lovely red wrapping paper. She unwrapped it revealing a long slender velvet purple box. Inside his gift to her from an antique shop in London, is a vintage silver locket. The oval case etched with a faint floral scrollwork, worn smooth at the edges.
It wasn’t flashy or delicate, but solid, sturdy, meant to endure. Very much like the man who gave it. Holding it gently in her hands, admiring the detailing she turns it over having felt an etching on the other side. The backside engraved, Where all roads end, you are my North.
She can feel her heart pounding reading each word, feels his eyes on her. Slowly she unclasps the chain then turns holding it up over her neck, the ends in her hands, “Will you help me?”
Each word almost a whisper, he is silent, but she feels the brush of fingers. His skin warm against hers. She lifts her hair so he can fasten the clasp. The locket shifts as he finishes, the brush of his fingers along her neck sends a chill down her spine.
A ghost of a smile on her lips as she turns back to him, lifting the locket thumbing over a hinge at the side revealing the space within just enough room for a pressed flower, a violet.
Lifting her gaze from the locket, he is already watching her. For a moment they are lost in each other. It was if they were the only two people in the room.
Everyone else deeply invested in their own conversations and gift exchanges, Stede and Ed were giggling over something, probably a joke or one of their wild little improvisational spirals.
At some point their bodies naturally leaning into one another as if an invisible force was luring them in close, no one else but the two of them. Their own special bubble.
A plea in his eyes as she leans closer to him. He leaning closer to her, the locket still open her fingers tracing the edges. Reaching his hand toward the locket, his fingers now stroking hers, his face closer to her own.
His voice low only for her, “Could’ve left it empty, but figured it needed something real. That flower, violet, it means devotion. I reckon… well, you know I am, my North.”
Leaning back to see his face still so very close, searching his eyes, feels it in her in her soul the feeling that is always there when she is close to him.
“It’s perfect. I hope you know that…”
A sharp burst of laughter breaks their bubble causing them both to jump back. Looking around clearly no one is paying attention to them.
Closing the locket, placing it gently against her chest clutching it tightly. She mouths the words, “Thank you.”
He simply nods a blush on his face. It’s then that Stede turns to her, “Oh darling, what did Izzy give you?”
She smiles sweetly at him, “A vintage locket he found in London. It’s stunning, a treasure.”
“What an absolute gem, Iz,” he praises, “my what an eye you have for jewelry.”
Izzy just grunts feeling proud of his gift, he wraps himself tighter in the cardigan from Charlotte.
“Oh Char, Stede got me pearls! We both got jewelry,” Ed said excitedly leaning over Stede waving his hand at her.
Charlotte laughed reaching her hand over to his grasping it, “Seems we did. What a happy Christmas we are having.”
Ed had been a comfort to Charlotte when he wasn’t at the office. She was grateful they had brought him in as COO. More so that he accepted, he fit perfectly into their life as shattered as it now felt.
Izzy, he was her daily rock. Despite his role as CSO, he was at the house more than the office. When she asked him about it, he said it was not anything for her to worry about since she was on sabbatical.
Continually telling her he has everything well in hand and he goes in to the office as often as he needs. That the COO, despite being an absolutely annoying twat but not as insufferable as that once of a CFO, gets reports regularly. She smacks him laughing telling to be nice, which earns her a fond smile he reserves only for her. (Ed saw this once, he claims it freaks him out.)
He was by her side more and more, especially when Stede was gone on assignment. Which was becoming increasingly more frequent and longer each time. When he was home, he spent time with her and Ed. She insisted he try to do as much as both as possible.
She enjoys seeing the pair of them together. Honestly, most of her day spent in physical therapy or laying about. Hardly entertaining in the slightest.
As the days went by, she is moving around with either a can or crutch with more ease. Even though the brace on her knee is driving her absolutely mad.
Apparently, she has a terrible habit of running the “physical therapy twinks” away because the only twink in her life is Lucius and she’ll be damned if she is talked to like a child.
Lucius would agree as he was present for a few of the more delightfully overly cheerful few that she absolutely thought that Izzy would be the one to escort bodily out of the door.
As much as she tried, her mood differed from before. It was a stark change, but it was to be expected as the psychiatrist has shared with them. She was snappier or quick to anger. Sometimes to tears. They all noticed it. She wasn’t her usual self.
Only leading her to avoid everyone some days at a time for long stretches. There were a few weeks she even attempted to hide from Izzy, but he had figured out where all the secret passages were.
He may or may not have carried her out of one when she refused to come out after a nearly two-hour standoff where she was calling his bluff. Made several idle threats if he came near.
He was not about to back down from his threat own threat to carry her out like a child if she was going to stand there acting like one. She would be lucky if he didn’t give her a smart smack on the bottom (Archie claims he said this last part, but Wee John is ignorant of it and Jim refuses to confirm.)
Jim, Archie, and Wee John were all in the Jam room as witnesses for the whole event. As one Israel hands did in fact carry a very upset Charlotte out bridal style of the secret passageway, allegedly. It was quite the highlight of the week if you were to ask them.
The secret passages were an easy way to move around, which very much fucked with Lucius when he was home. Probably because she found it amusing to appear in one room then disappear, to reappear in another that he was in. He did not love that at all.
Freaked poor Frenchie a few times. He is now absolutely convinced that she is a witch. So is Buttons, but that is another story all together.
At one point Jim started attending her physical therapy appointments after the last physical therapist left crying, Captain’s orders. Having to cut in before Charlotte or Izzy could lose their tempers. Also to avoid losing another physical therapist because they have been told another one won’t be sent.
Sure, these ridiculous over enthusiastic balls of pure morning person energy were annoying as fuck. Even they want to stab them in the face.
Fuck, they’re ten times worse if you were to take Captain’s super positive attitude and mixed it with Lucius’s personality on caffeine. But they knew she couldn’t get better if she didn’t stick with it.
The new one, Marcius, he said. He was really named Marcus, but he said it was so plain and he very much wanted something that sounds Parisian. Also, he is always looking for his new bestie to have brunch dates with.
He love, love, loves her vibe and style. He said it with a wink, as if wasn’t subtle. They should totally hang out when this is all over and go shopping. Maybe Izzy would let Lucius have at this one.
Stede and Ed, well they were certainly getting closer. To the point that the whole crew had a bet on when they would finally admit their feelings. First kiss. Who would find them making out in a room.
But much to their disappointment (and Ed’s) it seemed that Stede remained oblivious to Ed’s flirting. He may be a renowned spy but when it comes to relationships, it’s not his area of expertise. It’s not for lack of Charlotte trying to give them moments, she refuses much to Lucius’ dismay to actually say anything to Stede about it.
At one point, Lucius was almost certain they had finally figured things out when he found them in the study in a rather compromising position. Only to be let down that Ed had convinced Stede to play a game of Twister, with an unseen giggling Charlotte manning the spinner.
He gave her a glaring look, to which she only shrugged when he pointedly called her out on her hypocrisy, she feigned ignorance. Claiming that it was all Stede’s idea, she just so happened to be in the room when the idea struck him.
It was almost the end of the third month, getting close to entering the fourth month.
Ed has been on edge when Stede is gone. He comes late at night with a pillow and blanket like a five-year-old who had a bad nightmare asking if he can curl up in bed with her. Says he is worrying about her being alone.
It makes her smile; she hates sleeping alone, so she welcomes him each time. What she doesn’t know it’s partly because he worries about her sleepwalking and also, he is lonely and is afraid to say it aloud.
It has really upset Izzy the couple of times he has come looking for Ed in the late morning and found him asleep next to her.
A memorable morning the first time when she still had the brace, “Are you fucking kidding me right now? You know she has a fucking brace and injuries you absolute twat. You sleep like a fucking octopus all fucking limbs.”
She giggles about it still. Ed had peeked an eye open, his hair had come undone from his bun strands of it covering his face, mumbling to her half, “He’s just jealous.”
He then told Izzy to come join the cuddle pile lifting his blanket then said if not his, he could get under Charlotte’s. Izzy had stormed out and told him to fuck off.
They’ve been a comfort to each other. It’s given them time to grow closer, their own bond and friendship. She’s not made a return to office yet. But Ed keeps her up to date. He’s even spent days here, working from home from time to time he says because he misses his Bonnets.
Lucius says he often finds Ed either in her office or Stede’s most of the time.
Mostly these days, if Izzy isn’t with them or Stede isn’t home. They spent their time walking through the gardens in the snow if not too high now that it’s turned colder. Talking, really just about anything.
Playing board games. Well actually, they are now banned from playing board games as they are both highly competitive. No one is allowed to talk about the Battleship incident that somehow resulting to Stede’s mortification in having to replace the carpet and curtains.
And Stede still puzzling over how knife marks ended up in the ceiling. The last count is about fifteen holes. The poor Swede is still jumpy when he hears the words buttered scones.
Roach even let them cook with him, which was part disaster because Charlotte is not a good cook. Now she does have great knife skills, but that’s about it. Ed, of course, is amazing at cooking.
Ed enjoys watching Charlotte and Izzy fence. He likes to cheer for them, he makes little signs. He got Wee John in one it a few times when he was at the house.
Then they drug Frenchie out one day and then Pete, it turned into a whole mini cheering section which really pisssed Izzy off. He threatened them all if they didn’t stop their incessant cheering.
It only encouraged them more. Wee John said he would make them all shirts.
But mostly when Stede is home the whole crew is over. Either he will read to them in the evenings. Or they all still happily in their little groupings visiting or just being.
Wee John knits. Frenchie would strum on a stringed instrument he has focused on for the week. Lucius, Pete, and Fang cuddling on a sofa. Ivan napping on a lounger.
Roach would bring out a late night treat. Swede singing or humming sitting in the window box. Jim and Olu off in a corner together ‘not’ snuggling.
Izzy would even join them, sitting in an armchair closest to Charlotte soaking in the conversation.
Many of them claiming rooms in the house, practically moving in spending quite a lot of time here when they were not at the office. Which didn’t bother her at all. It felt like having a family.
That was the nice parts.
What the crew didn’t know, not even Ed or Izzy. Not even Stede.
What Jim hoped was only a response to the trauma being fresh. That the trauma was taking hold deep inside coming out in the quiet of the night.
Charlotte had really bad nights, thankfully not every night.
Stede didn’t know because he slept in a different room for the first time in their marriage after she came home. He had to, because of her injuries.
The room was nearby so he could be close. But Stede is a hard sleeper in his own home when not on assignment. Maybe it’s the comfort of being where you feel safe. Jim thinks it's weird.
First it was the night terrors. It was Jim who discovered she was having them. They came flying into her room; they had been sleeping in a room nearby, thinking someone was attacking her.
They set down their knives, then moved in to comfort her. Talking in a soothing voice trying to calm the mind. Hoping to gradually wake her.
Charlotte settled. Her eyes opening to see Jim. Her breath slowing. Sweat on her brow.
“You’re safe,” Jim whispered.
“Don’t tell Stede, he’ll just worry more.”
Jim frowned, they hated keeping secrets from him.
“Please, I’ll talk to the psychiatrist. It’s just, you know he saw the video Low sent. I know he did, he won’t say. I know Low sent it. I-,” Charlotte sighed, a tear rolled down to her temple, “please.”
Jim nodded, they heard about the video from the report. The analysts had alluded to the contents. They, too, suspected that Captain had watched it. They kissed her forehead then wiped away her tears. Helping her get settled into bed, they sat awhile before they knew she was asleep.
The night terrors were infrequent. Each time, Charlotte begged that Stede not know. That she would talk to the psychiatrist. Jim would sigh, promise to keep silent.
They got better, happening every once in a while. Easing. Eventually, they stopped. Jim hoped it was the therapy helping.
Chapter 16
Summary:
The Gentleman Returns
Stede is adjusting to the balance of active status not only as an Agent but being thrust back into his persona as The Gentleman. Spycraft is what is he rather good at.
With Charlotte's recovery ongoing, he feels uneasy about having to leave but thankful for their new support. New friends.
Notes:
A shorter chapter -- we are getting more into Stede's side of the spy world (double chapter post).
The wonderful thing about writing this is getting it all out. Then it's going back, trimming and piecing areas together. Part of this chapter was meant to come later but it felt weird. Now, it works here perfectly.
We will have some back and forth with Stede and Char for a time. Our boy, as bumbling as he can seem he's a damn fine spy. Going for a little Clark Kent with this, just feels right for Stedey.
xo
Chapter Text
The civility of disarming your enemy is a fine art. Especially when it’s done a fine hand, a covert nature of conversation and hospitality.
It’s not that he doesn’t take assignments that require dark utilitarian clothes, guns, and a few gadgets. Stalking through dark corridors or on rooftops. Fighting KGB or the henchmen of the targets. He is very capable of getting his hands dirty.
What he’s best at, known for is getting answers. It’s not untrue that if he shows up or you awake to find yourself his guest. There is often a good chance your crew or organization may receive a visit from Siren or Muerte. Sometimes both.
He adjusts his vest, the three-piece tweed suit he is wearing is one of his favourites. The cut, the fit on his shoulders really does something for his figure. One of his tailor’s best work.
His guest is still unconscious, catching their reflection in the mirror. Running his fingers through his slick back hair, the side part looks good. He only wears his hair like this for missions, Siren says it’s sexy. That thought makes him smile, his mind drifts to someone else. Dark brown eyes. He wonders if he would think the same.
There is slight movement behind him. Seems his guest is rousing. He checks his look once more before settling into himself. Into The Gentleman.
“W-Where am I?”
Spinning around, clapping his hands together with a pleased tick of a smile, his voice velvety and smooth, “Ah, I see you’ve awoken, allow me to introduce myself…”
His face schooled, calm composure, a slight smile and a raised brow as he rests his hands together his sides.
“I’m the Gentleman.”
Now that the Gentleman was back in active status. It’s been a mix of assignments. Several of them he is just Agent Bonnet, low-level work. They can often be just as time consuming. Others where it requires him to be The Gentleman. Spy Shit, as Ed would say.
The Director held off as long as he could and had given his apologies when the first one came through. It had been one of the low-level assignments, only gone for a few days. He went alone. He could call almost nightly. To keep their routine, a balm to their souls considering everything they have been through.
He was home before they knew it. Which was a relief to Stede. It had only been five weeks since Charlotte had been home from the hospital. She was still not getting around the house much, mostly staying in the bedroom.
He had moved to another room, a first in the entirety of their marriage. With her the extensive injuries and her brace, there was concern that his being a bit of a starfish sleeper he would hurt her. Mostly his concern. But she had relented.
Jim had moved into the room across from the one he moved into, both closest to the master as possible.
For the first month, they performed physical therapy in the bedroom given how spacious it was. Also, considering the distance to the gym in their home.
Before he left, he was diligently attending each of her therapy sessions. Mostly as a buffer between his wife and the rather, in his opinion quite pleasant, therapist who seem to break her patience.
Charlotte was usually a rather patient person but given everything she went through no one would fault her for being easier to anger. Not quite anger, he would call it more that she was annoyed.
Lucius was quick to point out a time or two, that he even found the second one (the first quit because they did not care for continually being snapped at) that they came on rather condescending and patronizing.
Stede found himself for Izzy who offered to take over assisting with her physical therapy appointments while he was on assignment. Not a feeling he would ever find having for the man.
If you had told them after they had first met, he would have thought you mad. He felt more at ease about him being there. Despite, even now, their feeling toward one another was still a bit on edge but friendlier.
Of course, Charlotte and Izzy’s friendship having grown before the abduction, it was nice to see his wife having someone with whom she could rely on. Be close to and spend time with [who was not Evelyn].
Stede may be accused of being oblivious at times, thank you Lucius, he was keenly aware that Izzy has soft spot for his wife. He can see how fond he is of her. A man who almost continuously scowls only smiles for her, even when he looks at her it’s very different.
Almost—it’s a silly line of thought, clearly he is a protective type, as he clearly demonstrated when he assisted with the planning and execution of getting her back at Warwick.
Just before the second mission, a new agent Archie arrived to the house. The Director insisted that they should grow the team, considering they still did not know who was behind recent events. It gave them another tactical special agent.
Archie, Code Name: Viper, had just come straight from Australia having just finished a mission where they infiltrated a Snake Cult. They were quite a force bringing with them a fury of energy and excitement. Jim was instantly enamored, which delighted Olu. Stede thought her to be rather amusing. Ed, not a fan of snakes, still wanted to hear every detail about this snake cult.
Much to Stede’s surprise, she was eager to see Charlotte who she had met some years ago on assignment in Egypt. Apparently, unaware that her current assignment was working for Siren, Muerte, and The Gentleman until her arrival when she received her dossier in the car.
They were all in one of the sitting rooms nearest to the Master bedroom where Charlotte was sitting in a chaise lounge.
Turning to Stede her jaw dropping open clearly having just pieced his identity together, “Oh shit, is this The Gentleman? Like the Gentleman-Gentleman?”
Jim snickered. Archie staring at him with awe and disbelief unashamedly looking him up and down.
Clear confusion written all over his face as he looks between his wife, Jim, and Archie, “What does that mean? Gentleman-Gentleman?”
His wife bringing her hand to cover her mouth at a poor attempt at hiding her laugh not answering as he continues to look at them all bewildered.
“Oh, ugh. Don’t know…just thought you’d be, ya know, taller, muscly, you know?”
Raising his eyebrows not knowing what more to say.
“Well, it’s good to have you here with us Archie,” Charlotte says saving the moment, “have you introduced her to Roach?”
Directing her question to Jim who shook their head.
“I’m sure you’re hungry after your trip?” she says politely giving them an out while Stede still stares at them trying to puzzle the previous conversation together.
Archie looking at Jim excitedly like a puppy at the mention of food.
Jim smiles waving a hand, “Come on, you’ll love Roach. He’s the cook. Makes amazing food.”
Leading the way toward the kitchen with a bounding Archie following them out of the room. Stede watches them go before turning back to his wife a look of incredulousness, “Muscly?”
“She’s just…Archie. I don’t know what to say. What I do know, she’s damn good at what she does.”
Chapter 17
Summary:
Agent Bonnet is on a mission in Marrakesh with Agents Jimenez and Archie. Another assignment keeping him away from home. It feels like no sooner does he get home he has to go back on assignment.
He finally has a realization after a conversation with Charlotte about his feelings. Maybe he is finally a little less oblivious after all.
Notes:
As noted in the previous chapter, more into Stede as an agent.
Giving him some space on the page.
Not big notes from me today crew. Just my continued thanks for the reads, comments, and kudos. This has been my current obsession and hyperfocus.
I wrote the epilogue last night. I couldn't sleep and as I was laying in bed staring at the ceiling it came to me. I wrote the final scenes awhile ago, I was struggling with how this is ending. Honestly, I feel good about the epilogue I drafted out quickly on my phone. It's rough but I think it's kind of perfect.
We will see.
In the meantime, the plot will soon be thickening soon. It's a spy thriller after all, we still don't know who really is behind it all.
Chapter Text
The last time he was in Marrakesh, it had been just before they founded the company. The mission had landed him on a rooftop, the sun in his eyes, two men with scimitars pressing him hard.
His own blade felt foreign in his hand at first. Every parry clumsy as it had been some time since he held anything other than a foil. His foot slipping on loose tiles.
The clang of steel rang too close, sweat stinging his eyes. But somewhere in the chaos the rhythm came back. Muscle memory snapping into place. Like he blacked out, his body took over.
He caught the angle, forced one man wide, then drove the other back step by step until the roof was his again. Breath ragged, arm shaking. Standing alone over them.
In the aftermath he was surprised he’d won. Charlotte was not surprised. She was proud.
Current day the market churning around him, a restless sea of voices and barter. Sunlight pouring over the ochre walls, baking the dust into the air until each breath carried grit.
Adjusting the brim of his Panama hat, careful to keep his pace unhurried. An English gentleman strolling through Marrakesh should look at ease.
Not like a man walking into a meeting he might not walk out of. He definitely wanted to avoid unwanted attention.
He was immaculate as ever, even here. A cream linen suit, pale shirt open at the collar no tie as it was too bloody hot, a neat pocket square tucked with stubborn precision. Instead of a pocket watch, he wore a brass compass. A token, a charm. A reminder of home.
The heat clung to him, darkening the fabric at his back, dust already dulling the shine of his shoes.
Still, walking as though he belonged, every glance from a passing merchant made it clear they knew he has money. A target for them to pitch their wares.
“I have to ask, Captain…” Jim’s voice cracking over their earpiece. High above, Jim crouching at the roof’s edge, eyes never leaving the crowd watching for any sign of danger.
Stede weaves shoppers and merchants, the bustling street market shifting like waves of the ocean, lifting a hand he adjusts his hat.
“Go on,” he says quietly but enough for Jim to hear.
“Thomas Edwards? That’s the alias you chose?” they ask with a hint of amusement.
They’re met with silence as he makes his way through stalls. People waving at him, merchants wanting his attention shoving jewelry and vases towards him. He politely waves them away.
“What’s wrong with that? It’s a good name,” words mumbled almost offended, his tone notes his confusion.
“Right, nothing wrong. Thomas is fine. But it’s the Edwards part, a little…” Jim’s voice trails off as they adjust their scope. They’re tracking his movements keeping an eye for any threats.
“A little what then?” he huffs.
Across the way, sprawled low with her rifle case half-open, chewing gum as though the chaos below were a stage set for her amusement. Clearly amused by the conversation.
Archie’s voice cuts through.
“Bet Mum’d choose Mary Hands,” her cackle snort laugh breaking through the earpieces, she had picked up on the habit of using the nicknames.
Jim stifled their own laugh rolling their eyes.
Furrowing his brow as he continues to the meeting point. What on earth are these two on about? So what if he chose Edwards, and it happens to be close to his name?
“Can we focus on the mission? I have no clue what you two are on about. But I’d like to not get shot, thank you,” he said curtly.
“Don’t worry, Cap. Arch and I promised Mum we’d get you home in one piece,” Jim said, amusement still in their tone.
“Yep,” Archie said popping the p.
Choosing to ignore them, scanning the area noting the identifying landmarks. Lifting his hat from his head to wipe sweat from his brow with his handkerchief. Slightly waving it, the signal that he was nearing the meeting point.
Placing it on his head, his blonde curls clinging slightly to his forehead. This weather really did a number on his hair. He continues to the meeting point as he places his handkerchief back in his pocket.
Somewhere in the tangle of stalls and shadows, his informant is waiting. This mission was that much closer to being completed.
Heading straight to the house from London was always the best feeling after a mission. Once they were done at headquarters, debriefed and reports filed. The long drive felt like the longest yet the shortest trip in the world.
Archie and Jim had chosen to stay in London for a while this time. Something about Olu coming up to meet them, spending a few days. Taking in a show or two. Of course, he made sure to remind Jim to send him the bill for their hotel stay. They argued but he would not let them win that one.
Now, in the hired car he was on his way to Birmingham where he would meet Buttons to make the rest of the way home. Nervously, his fingers rubbing the brass of the compass Ed had given him for Christmas. He found it soothing. A reminder.
Leaning back, closing his eyes. A smile on his lips knowing that the two people he cares for most in the world would be there waiting for him. Two people he loves most in the world.
He felt his chest clench. Love.
Sitting up, his eyes open running that through his mind. He has loved Charlotte since University, that was never a doubt. He has never stopped loving her, deeply loves and is in love with her now. No, that’s not what is making his heart and mind race with panic.
It’s the realization that he. Stede Bonnet. He is in love with Edward Teach.
His best friend.
Thinking back through every moment, touch. Smile. Conversation. How easy it is to be around Ed. How it often it reminds him of being with Charlotte. Yet it feels so different. Every friendship. Relationship should.
He is clutching the compass now. Looking down at it, he opens it. The words engraved, reading them now. He realizes maybe Ed feels the same way he does.
What was it that Lucius had called it, Demisexual? Forming a strong emotional bond. That’s what he has with Charlotte. She was the first and for so long, the only person who saw him for who he is. Accepted him. They just made sense.
Now, he has Ed as well. The three of them, just fit.
His panic eases into a feeling of bliss, peace. He knows they have needed to have a conversation about how close they were both becoming with Ed. He suspects her with Israel but he isn’t so sure about that, maybe they’re just close friends.
Ed and Charlotte. The thought of their closeness does not bother him, no jealousy when he sees them laughing. In each other’s space. They are very similar; he has been noticing it more recently.
Both of them seek out touch, like they crave it. His wife has always been more touchy feely naturally, like its second nature for her. He likes it, but it’s not the same for him. Edward is the same.
He will watch them together thinking how lucky he is to have the two of them. He doesn’t want to assume what their feelings are for the other, for all he has seen is that they remain rather friendly. Keeping boundaries in their affections.
But with this revelation of his feelings, a conversation about what this means needs to happen. The timing is not the best; he thinks. She is still recovering, still processing so much from the whole ordeal. The trauma. Best to wait, focus on her healing.
He should talk with Ed. Start having conversations with Ed? Ease into this, take it slow.
It was several weeks of being home before he receiving the call from the Director. He was in his study when it came in; he let it ring as he walked to the door. Looking towards the hall he saw no one was nearby. Closing it, he drew in a breath before walking towards the phone.
Picking up the receiver he answered, “Secure line, waiting to receive the message. Code word: Bowler.”
“Secure line, hold for Director,” came the woman’s voice. There was a series of clicks as the call connected.
His stomach twisting, he just wants to be home. To spend time with his family for a while. He feels like he is missing so much. No, he knows he is.
“Agent Bonnet. I hope things are well. How is recovery going? I hope Agent Stuart is well doing well,” Jenkins' voice says over the line.
“Recovering rather well. She is only on a cane or crutch now. Physical therapy is helping if she can manage not to scare them off,” he says matter-of-factly. It earned a laugh, Jenkins having known her for years.
“I can imagine she can be a tough patient. Unfortunately, I am sure you have gathered this call is not social,” he sounded apologetic.
“Yes, sir. I have put that much together.”
“We have an assignment. Leaving in two weeks. I know you just got back, I tried to buy you some time but they want you on this one. Not as The Gentleman. The location is remote and may be a few weeks. May be a lengthy one, that much I can say,” he pauses there.
“Thank you for getting me that much time, sir.”
He knows that’s not nothing, it could have been leaving tomorrow or tonight. There is a good chance it was originally.
“Be on the lookout on location to pick up the package. You’ll find profile, documents, tickets, and location details. Your mission dossier will be given to you by your contact when you arrive. Unfortunately, this one is going to be no contact,” he says knowingly.
Fuck, she is going to hate this.
“Understood, Sir,” he says keeping his voice calm.
“This is solo. Your team will not be coming with you,” he adds further. “I see, anything else?”
“No, the message should be coming in just over a week. Just follow the dossier and mission plan. Make your check-ins. I will see you when you get back to headquarters for debrief.”
“See you then, sir,” he says as the call ends.
He doesn’t hang the phone immediately standing with the receiver in his hand. Slowly placing it on the hook fingers lingering, his other hand on the desk holding him steady. Closing his eyes, his heart aching. He just wants to be here, wrapping his arms around Ed. Around Charlotte. Just be here with his people. His family.
There was no choice, going back to active. This was the price. Two weeks, make the most of it, soak it all in then he would go. Complete the mission then come right back home.
“Another assignment,” her smooth voice bring him back to the moment. Looking up quickly, his wife leaning in the door frame. She was clearly upset, of course she is.
Slowly he nodded walking around his desk toward her with open arms. Pushing from the door frame, she walking slowly toward him. Pulling her into his chest as soon as she was close enough wrapping her tight he kissed the top of her head.
“In two weeks,” he said quietly.
“Surprised it’s not tonight,” her voice a little mumbled with her face buried into his chest. He huffed a laugh.
“My thoughts exactly. Jenkins said he did what he could, got us time. So, better than nothing,” holding her rubbing his hands along her back, “I’m sorry.”
Looking up at him confused, “Why on earth are you sorry?”
“Leaving. Just after I just returned,” frowning as if it should be clear to her. She should be upset with him, it’s irrational he knows. Part of him wants her to be, like it would be easier.
Rolling her eyes shaking her head before pressing her forehead into his chest, “Stede Bartholomew Bonnet, you absolutely absurd man. This is not your fault. If you recall, we are both MI5 agents. This is part of our life.”
He still felt like he is letting her down, he hugs her tightly, leaning closer to her his lips brushing the top of her head, “Still. I hate leaving you. Hate leaving—”
“Don’t tell me. Go find him and tell him yourself,” she laughs into his chest, “you really need to talk to him. You two are the worst at talking you know?”
He pulls her back looking at her with confusion, “What do you mean by that?”
“Oh my god, Stede Bonnet. I know you are in love with Ed. I am pretty sure our whole crew knows it. I think you know it, too. So, figure it out. Talk to him. We can talk when you get back.”
“I-I,” he sputters, “But you, really? You, but I just.”
Cupping his face pulling him close, staring into his eyes with a wide smile. Her look so fond and loving, “I love you. So very much. For the record, I adore him. You really need to talk to him. If you want to wait until you get back, fine. But don’t wait too long.”
He just shakes his head. She kisses briefly. Running her fingers through his hair, her eyes tracing his features, “You my love, deserve so much happiness.”
He wraps his hand around her wrist then kisses her palm, “As do you. I promise, I will talk to him. I do, I really do love him.”
His smile is bright but then it fades a shadow of doubt crosses his features.
“What if…what if he doesn’t feel the same way?” he asks quietly, sounding small.
Running a thumb across his jawline reassuringly, “Oh darling, I have a very good feeling that he does. You won’t know until you talk to him. Considering he just upturned his whole life to not only join our company, he basically lives in our house now. Who does that?”
“Edward, clearly,” he says with a fond laugh.
He knows she is right; he needs to talk with him. Maybe after the assignment would be best. Better than making a love declaration following that with saying oh by the way, I am leaving for several weeks on an assignment.
Chapter 18
Summary:
Stede is on assignment, he has been gone for almost four weeks. Charlotte does not have a good feeling about it.
One saturday after a night of nightmares and bad dreams, Charlotte and Ed are both feeling melancholy. Leading to a heartfelt moment of bonding building a closer friendship.
But Izzy may not be so keen on their closeness, some jealousy may be ahead.
Notes:
This is a chapter that had quite a lot of revisions. I really wanted to have this bonding moment for Ed and Charlotte. We learn about Stede and Charlotte's history, some of the pain in their past.
Talk of infertility in this chapter, heads up.
We have seen glimpses of their budding friendship. I tenderly think of the two of them as Chaos Kittens. The idea of them both being absolute terrors together wreaking havoc delights me to no end, because they can be absolutely serious, brilliant, and dangerous when needed.
This may be a double chapter day, I have 19 ready to go. I already rewrote it so it's sitting there ready for your reading pleasure.
I will note, may add to the tags: in this AU, gay marriage is legal but it's very much not done in higher social circles for reasons I am sure you can guess. Which for two young society types left them with few options.
ALSO -- line shoutout to a dedicated reader @Nimuei
Chapter Text
Stede has been an on assignment for almost four weeks. As Agent Bonnet, not as the Gentleman. It’s not unheard of to be gone so long. The issue is he is deep undercover meaning no contact except for his planned check ins with Home Office.
Charlotte cannot shake a feeling of unease. She is a trained MI5 specialist after all. There is an itch at the back of her brain. A feeling she cannot shake. She makes a call to the Director about two weeks into his mission, who reluctantly appeases her assuring that he has made contact. He noted that Stede was late for one check in call but there was no concern flagged on their end.
Never in his career has he ever missed one, for her that was a concern even if they did not agree. But she knew being undercover was prone to going off book unexpectedly, having to adapt quickly.
She had returned to the office, slowly resuming her role as CEO just over a month ago. It was a nice distraction. Her schedule was not as strenuous as before with Ed as COO and not traveling for clients at the moment.
Today, is a quiet Saturday. Lately, with the crew coming and going it is more alive than it ever has been in its previous existence. Ed and Charlotte are laying in a blanket fort in the library the fire is going on the other side of the room. It’s snowing not heavily but enough to give the house a chill.
Laying opposite of the other heads side by side, able to look at each other with just a slight tilt. Just giggles and silly stories. Nothing serious. They’ve had too much serious to deal with on the regular, stress and worry about Stede a large part of what is weighing heavily on their minds.
Last night was rough for Ed, his own traumas coming to surface sending waves of dreams about Krakens. It’s must have been the winds, her own nightmares surged in. Not a night terror or intense sleep walking kind of night. But haunted memories she was grateful that by the light of day turned to shadows.
At some point, they each found their way, much to Izzy’s annoyance and secret delight, end up in his bed. Ed on one side and Charlotte on the other. Both of them apparently very much the clinging cuddling type of sleepers.
If Izzy found himself with his arms wrapped around Charlotte tucked into his chest, her head under his chin sleeping soundly he would not say. But he also woke up to Ed wrapped around him spooning him, but he didn’t mind that either.
They both of course woke up in his bed with Izzy not there having already gotten up for the day. But their melancholy still lingered like a cloud.
After breakfast, a few attempts at distraction where Ed tried to find an activity to relieve his boredom. Charlotte tended to a few matters with Roach then went to change for physical therapy figuring it would not hurt to be dressed for it early.
They found each other again feeling no better than this morning. Ed had an idea, she being a terrible enabler of his whims led raiding rooms for blankets from different parts of the house. Dragging them into the library for a late morning into an early afternoon of hiding in the blank fort they built.
“Char,” he said softly his hand moving to play with a strand of her hair nervously staring at the ceiling of their blanket fort. His pearl necklace laying askew across his neck.
Shifting her eyes from where she had been staring off into the distance, hearing the hesitancy in his voice. Slowly rolling her head to the side nuzzling her forehead against his, “hmmm?”
“I-You see, the thing is—,” he started, he wasn’t sure how to just ask. Do you just blurt it out hey are you and your husband like swinger but not like swingers and is it cool that I am really into your husband?
“Um, are you and—you and Stede, your marriage.—”
A giggle cut him off. Scowling turning his head quickly glaring, feeling a little rise of anger, “Dickfuck, it’s not funny. I’m trying to be serious.”
“I know, I know,” she said as she rose on her hands and knees, hanging over him. Her face hovering over his, still upside down.
Frowning at her because she did not deserve his pout. Only earning himself a pity giggle which he wasn’t sure was better or worse.
“Oh sweet, Ed. Fuck, I told him to talk to you before he left,” she said soothingly as she crawled to his side then lay beside him propping herself to look at him properly. Of course that only gained her another look mostly of confusion.
“Listen, it’s a conversation long overdue,” her sigh heavy.
Shifting to his side sitting up crossing her legs, laying her hands in her lap.
“Short, simple answer, we have an open marriage. I think Jim said it’s technically polyamory. Trés modern, I know.”
Searching her face for any hint of teasing but could clearly see she was serious. Sitting up himself, his hair falling around his shoulders.
“Oh,” he said.
“It’s been like this for us for a number of years. Took a few years to figure out what works best, our communication. Our rules, boundaries,” she shrugs.
He doesn’t know what to say. So many emotions shifting inside. His fingers finding the edge of a pillow, the fringe hanging off he twists the threads.
“We wanted to tell you sooner. He should have, or maybe not. It’s not exactly easy? I am guessing you are asking because of how you feel about him?”
She can tell he is nervous, sees him fidgeting his eyes not looking at her. Reaching out she places her hand on his knee. He looks at her a shy grin on his face. Ed just shakes his head in confirmation. Not sure what to say.
“I was hoping after the gala. Your night out, he might see that you both have something special. Which meant he and I would have a conversation, then we would talk to you.”
“Really? You’d talk to me, about me having a relationship with your husband?” It was a lot for him to think about. Ed’s a modern guy but this was still a lot.
Here his friend is telling him, she’s comfortable with the idea of him being her husband’s…boyfriend? She hasn’t said that in so many words, he thinks.
Of course, now that he’s thinking about it, this is his friend who he’s become very close to. His friend who often platonically cuddles with. He has never felt so open, comfortable, and safe with anyone else in his life.
Yet somehow he found two people he can just be Ed with. Two people he can just talk to, who see him.
It was a very short time of getting to know her that he realized that they are both the kind of people who crave touch. Kind of their love language he supposes.
After the incident as the weeks have gone by, with her recovery, it became more apparent. Even with Jim who is very much not the touchy feely type, they are different with her. Like they get it, but also the safeness of it?
It seemed like once he and Charlotte recognized it in each other this kindred spirit. The sameness, the safety. They sought each other out for that comfort.
Maybe it’s trauma bonding. They respect each other’s boundaries. They feel safe together. She and Stede feel like home, he thinks to himself. He is hit with that feeling deep inside.
“Of course we would Ed,” her voice bringing him back to the conversation, “Even more so now, honestly. You are important to both of us.”
He looks at her, really looks at her then. She isn’t upset, but he can see an unnamed emotion there.
“What do you mean? Why am I different than the other partners?” he can feel his heart beating, the heat of her hand still on his knee grounding him. Her eyes seem to shimmer as she looks at him, her face so open with a look of warmth. Love.
“Because I know what it’s like to be in love with Stede Bonnet. And to have Stede Bonner be in love with me.”
He can feel the tears forming, his throat choking up, “I-I don’t..how do you—”
Fire crackles in the distance, the air is still.
“We both adore you, silly man. I know I love you. It isn’t for me to say how he feels about you, in that way. It’s for him to tell you.”
“You love me?” he whispers.
“Of course, you are so special to me. I can’t imagine my life not having an Edward Teach in it anymore. But we are talking about you and Stede.”
She redirects the conversation; he is fully aware of the deflection.
“The thing about Stede, which will help to give you context about our marriage. He’s demisexual and gay. Our marriage has always been complicated.”
He can hear sorrow in her voice, “So do you two?”
She blushes, “Not in the early days. Our marriage started as what one would call a lavender marriage. We eloped to save one another from arranged marriages. I think more so from mine. And to defy our fathers. In our circles, even if it is legal, same-sex marriages are not done.”
“Oh shit,” he said, “no wonder Ole Reggie boy isn’t a fan.”
“Oh, my father hates Stede. But he comes from money and prestige so it was something. We’ve been best friends since the moment we met. We really do love each other, even then. Stede always said he at least got to marry for love even if he was gay.”
That earned her a watery laugh from Ed.
“As the years went on, it was just easy. Because we do care for the other. Of course the whole being spies part, it just made sense. As we matured, grew older it just made sense to stay married. We saw no reason to divorce. So, we had partners. Figured out that part of our life.”
She was quiet for a moment, like she was lost in her memories. He traced the outline of her face with his eyes as they lay in silence. A slow sigh before her next words.
“At one point, in our late twenties. We had a bit of a scare, an assignment that almost went wrong,” she sounded sad almost haunted as she spoke.
“The first time, not the last, that we faced mortality. Turns out, we are not so bad in bed together, if you know what I mean,” she says the last part unashamedly waggling her eyebrows with a wicked little smile earning a surprised laugh and eye roll.
“Was not the last time but I think it was more the idea of being parents,” looking at him earnestly, tears in her eyes as shifting a closer to him. Her voice growing smaller.
“We had tried a bit of monogamy for a stretch at that point. I’d been extremely careful, which is easy when one really only has female partners,” she winks, “I’m actually bisexual if you haven’t sussed it out.”
“I am, too,” returning her smile.
“Oh, I hadn’t realised,” her shock was genuine, “I’m sorry, I really thought you were gay like Stede or Lu,.”
“How would you have known otherwise? Besides, its fitting that both of my Bonnets are absolutely oblivious,” he says affectionately.
Swatting at him playfully then pushing at his shoulder, “Don’t be cheeky, Edward.”
He barked out a laugh, “Not cheeky when it’s true.”
She only rolls her eyes a faint blush, “We tried for years. It wasn’t a matter of not being able to perform, we managed rather successfully. After several years, we found the need for medical assistance. Doctor after doctor then specialists after specialist told us that I—”
Crawling over to her he wrapped his arms around her pulling her tightly to his chest, he knew where this was going. She hadn’t needed to finish that sentence. Her head resting beneath his chin, he wrapped his arms around her. His heart breaking.
“I’m sorry love,” he whispered softly.
Shifting her head resting into his shoulder, “I felt so broken, Ed. He was so sweet and caring. You know how he is. It was a hard time for us. We talked about adoption. But we started working with the orphanages and other charities. Doing hands on work. But there are times…he would make such an amazing dad.”
They sat together in silence in the blanket fort. The crackling of the fire in the background, distance sounds of the crew from different parts of the house.
“Eventually Lucius showed up in our lives, so that was like having several kids all at once which remedied the need to have one,” she said suddenly feeling the need to break the silence and heaviness of the moment.
That set Ed off into a burst of laughter. He kissed the side of her head, “Thank you for sharing that with me. I know it wasn’t easy.”
“You needed to know. I want you to be part of our life, to be fair you already are. Fuck, you uprooted yourself and here you are. You are not just some passing fling for him. He’s had a few of those. I’ve had more, what I would call relationships. He’s just had partners that filled a physical need.”
He considered this new information, “cause he’s demisexual?”
She shook her head.
“So,” he said slyly, “tell me about Evelyn.”
“Oh my god,” She covered her face with both hands leaning forward, “How do you know that name? I’m going to murder Lucius. That little gossipy bitch,” she laughed but there was no heat in her threat.
“Overheard the name between Stede and Lu, more than once. He really seems to not like her,” he pulled her hands away gently, she sighed resignedly looking at him.
“Oh, they hate each other. Like loathe. It’s the only relationship I’ve ever ended because it violated our rules. She just didn’t respect our marriage. I had no other choice,” she sighed.
“You want to establish new rules, boundaries for me?” he asked.
“I suppose in a way. That one, it’s still important. Stede and I, we still love each other. We are married, I don’t see that changing. For is it was never about not being in love, just you know,” she said almost defensively like it was a triggered response.
Ed pulled back lifting her chin to look at him, “Hey, not here to wreck your marriage. Don’t think that at all, believe me after every horrible thing that happened. Still here and I have seen how much he loves you. If you haven’t figured it out. I care about you, too.”
That earned him a tender smile.
“I really like you, too, Ed. Care about you. I enjoy us, this. Our closeness and friendship. But I’m not sure I want more than this—” she says softly.
He nods, “this can be whatever we want.”
“I like that,” she adds getting almost comically serious staring at him with a glint in her eye, “let be very clear, I really want you and Stede to figure your shit out. It’s driving us all insane.”
Ed barked out a laugh, “All? Fuck are we that obvious?”
She gives him a pointed look, “There are betting pools, Edward!”
He holds up his hands in surrender, “Okay, okay. Heard loud and clear. Well, when he gets back I guess we three need to have a talk? Or do you two need to talk first?”
She thought about it for a while, “We already had a talk before he left. I think you two need to talk.”
“Fair, can do that. Only on one condition,” he said with a tinge of mischief.
“I don’t know that I like that tone of yours, Star,” she said pulling back giving him a suspicious look like he was about to pull her into a trap.
Giggles fill the space as he taps his finger on her nose, “You have to talk to Israel.”
Pushing back from him with a look of how did you know mixed with I will cut you, “W-What? There is nothing to talk about.”
“Oh, come off it. You two are just as bad as me and Stede,” scoffing in offence he turns the serious look back on her.
“Actually, you two are fucking worse than we are! I know what he got you for Christmas, we went shopping together. Same engravers, too. He’s been more grumbly than usual. I think I know why, but you need to have this talk with him. Take a bit of your own fucking advice,” he motions between them.
Her face turning a deep shade of pink, “I don’t know about that. I think you’re reading into things. I doubt he feels that way about me. He’s a very loyal and devout person, you know that better than anyone.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?,” his voice raising just about as high as his eyebrows as he leans toward her more, “He wears that damn cardigan all the time. Here at the house. At the office. I’ve never seen him act like that. Certainly not with me…okay, I think for a moment with me, but not the same fucking thing! He’s in love with you, I know it.”
She says in an almost whisper pushing him, “Don’t exaggerate.”
He pushes her back which only starts a little push fight which quickly evolves into a tickle match of giggles and incoherent “talk to ‘em” and “no, no you’re mad.”
At which point it is abruptly broken up by a very angry, very familiar raspy, “What the absolute fuck is all this then?”
They both pause exchanging a look fighting back their giggles like two children who have been busted for misbehaving.
Then another even louder and closer, “What the fuck are you two doing?”
“I just can’t with you two,” a gasped out stage whisper by Lucius not too far behind.
Charlotte and Ed both now frozen in place, their tickle battle completely stopped at this point. Their giggles calming from the exertion, mostly cooling from Izzy’s second reaction trying not to garner another outburst. Still there are a mixture of snickers as they try to regain some composure shifting away from the other inside the fort.
“Blue pillow’s the door,” Ed snickers.
Charlotte elbowing his side giving him a dirty look only inciting a sharp, “Dickfuck, ow. That was my fucking tit.”
Which almost set them into another wave of giggles. Prompting an eye roll from Lucius who mumbled, “I actually work for these people.”
“M’not fucking climbing into your fucking fort, Edward,” Izzy growled angrily which sounded more like a threat which Ed found rather impressive.
“Aw, come on Iz. Plenty of space. You can come cuddle with us, like last night,” Ed purred.
He couldn’t see Izzy’s face but knew very well there was now a deep blush mingled with a tinge of red outrage on his face, he could hear him sputtering. A surge of anger not far behind. Of course he was right.
Lucius not able to stop a laugh only earning a deadly glare from Izzy.
They all jumped as he bellowed angrily, “Charlotte Eloise Stuart Bonnet. You’ve got your physical therapy.”
“Shit all four names,” Ed stage whispered.
She gave Ed a look of uh oh, he is rather pissed. He just shook his head laughing then whispered, “talk to him”.
Izzy ignoring the Ed and the mumbles in the blank fort he continued his voice growing angrier and angrier, “You’re already late. Marcius is waiting. You’ve spent enough time cuddling and flirting with this twat all morning.”
“Aww he’s just jealous,” Ed saying it loud enough knowing it would only piss him off more.
She smacked him, “behave.”
Crawling out her hair a mess seeing the angry glare of Izzy standing in front of her.
Ed yelling after her, “M’gonna stay here.”
“I charge you with guarding and defending our fort,” she offered back still straightening herself.
“How are you the same person, I swear? Like seriously, it’s beginning to be really creepy some days.” Lucius says in surprise like he cannot believe this is his life.
She offers Izzy a weak smile, but it only earns her a frown. Clocking the hurt in his eyes, well fuck clearly there was something to what Ed was saying.
Seeing that she is finally ready, turning he headed toward the door storming out of the library. Steeling herself, she hurried to follow him, this was about to be a big fight or big emotional conversation. Or both.
Lucius just watched shaking his head mumbling messy bitches everywhere and I fucking work for them. Walking over to the fort he dropped down to crawl into the fort, eyeing the inside as he moves closer to Ed.
“Well, isn’t this cozy,” as he scoots himself to sit beside him.
Ed nods in agreement with a big cheesy smile on his face looking rather proud.
“So, you and Char?” giving Ed an impish look. Only earning him a look at sent chills down his spine his smile fading fast, “or not. Don’t stab me.”
“Just close friends. But we did talk, about things. You know, about shades of lavender,” he nudges Lucius with his elbow, a few days earlier he had tried to get some information from Lucius.
Who surprisingly insisted he just talk to Charlotte and Stede about their relationship, that he would be pleasantly surprised. And no, they aren’t swingers because Ed had asked. Lucius only said, and he quotes, “Ew, could you imagine them having pineapple decor? No shades of lavender are more their thing.”
“Oh, thank god. I am terrible at keeping secrets,” Lucius says letting out a breath like a deflated balloon.
“Dickfuck, how are you part of MI5?” Ed looks at him with a modicum of genuine surprise.
“Oh, I know. Soooo ironic. Trust me, it’s not lost on me. I’m like weirdly good at that,” he says pressing a hand on his chest.
“She’s going to talk to Stede. Then I guess he and I need to talk. Then the three of us,” he looked over at Lucius who looks surprised, “what?”
“Nothing, it’s just…the three of you will talk?” tilting his head curiously.
He nods.
“That’s new. But makes total sense given everything. I’ve never seen them so close to anyone like they are with you. Well, I guess like she is with Izzy. That one is weird, right?” he briefly looks at Ed for validation but then continues on.
“Course after what just happened just now, I suspect a row is about to happen. Because clearly Daddy is clearly very jealous of a certain leather daddy. Either that or a nuclear bomb is about to implode. Which is long overdue, because clearly he has been madly in love with her for like ages at this point.”
Ignoring the leather daddy jab, “Yeah, Izzy doesn’t really do feelings. This is probably new for him.”
“Charlotte is going to eat him alive,” he says in a sing-song voice.
Ed tosses his head back laughing, “I don’t know mate, they may be evenly matched there. Those two, they may end up killing each other by the end of it.”
“True. You two seem close,” he raised a brow, clearing not talking about him and Izzy.
Ed was silent, thoughtful. Looking down at his hands. Being with Charlotte made his brain quiet, in a way that differed from how it was when he is with Stede.
“Can’t explain it. Just close. Nothing more, mutual cuddling and mischief?” he said grabbing a pillow hugging it close.
“Everyone has a flavor, babe.”
Chapter 19
Summary:
It's safe to say that Izzy is pissed off. At this point, Charlotte is chasing him down to talk.
At the moment, his focus is her doing her physical therapy. She can't focus while he is made. Things are about to come to head for Izzy and Charlotte because clearly she needs to take her own advice.
Also, Archie's poor cereal!
Notes:
A little bit of angst, a bit of finally talking it through.
As close to steamy as you are getting from me. As usual, slipping in some humor.
I have to say, writing about Charlotte and Izzy is kind of fun.
Chapter Text
Charlotte was practically chasing Izzy down as he was purposefully on a full march, practically a speed walk. If he could he would either be running or leaving her to go to physical therapy on her own.
“Izzy,” she called after him. He ignored her, actually looked as if he walked faster.
“Israel, would you slow down. Just stop for a moment,” she asked. No answer.
She was only an inch shorter than him. He kept a decent distance from her. She could feel the heat of his anger rolling off of him. Shit, she really needed to talk to him, physical therapy could wait.
“Fuck, seriously. Israel!” But he continued on as if she had not said a word. Fine.
Usually she was fairly good at reading people, it was a skill she had. Better at it than Stede. Lately, since the incident. Not so much, maybe she’s been too in her own head. Too focused on herself? Which fair, healing. Trauma. Worry about every damn thing going on.
Now, someone she really cares about is upset. No, the one person she desperately wants to get closer to has been hurt by her. Even if it’s unintentional.
Someone she has grown to lo—very much adore. Going to lock that away and examine it later. Right now, she needs to focus on talking to him.
He burst through the door to the gym area, thankfully his anger meant he made a big entrance causing it to swing wide. Taking the opportunity using her training, surging forward she slipped through before it closed closing the space between them.
Hopefully allowing her to catch him before he can get beyond the main entry that leading to the main gym floor. If she doesn’t get him by then, it’s too late. Marcius will be there waiting.
Then her window to talk to him will close. He’ll stay for the session, then probably slip away and avoid her after.
She goes for it. Reaching out she grabs his shoulder, as she does he shrugs her off. Oh, so that’s how it is. Her training kicks in. She pushes off jumping to move herself to land in front of him. He jumps back surprised. Which works in her favor.
He scowls at her. Before he reacts, she moves forward swiftly taking the lapel of his shirt into her hands pushing him back angling him toward the wall that is close.
The surprise is enough he moves but doesn’t fall back. He steps back feeling the shift; he reacts by grabbing her waist as if to steady her.
As if they might fall. She pushes even closer to him. Their breath shared, their eyes connected.
“What the fuck, Charlotte,” he yelled loudly, “are you fucking insane?”
She feels his arms hesitate then his hands are on her waist as he holds her. Then she feels him start to move forward, but she pushes back pressing herself into him more still having not broken eye contact.
“Probably, the jury is out. My psychiatrist has not cleared me yet to go back service at the agency,” he only glares at her.
“I’m not doing this with you right now,” he said angrily, “whatever this is.”
Breaking eye contact then pushes her back; he is stronger clearly reigning it in not wanting to hurt her but then she is just as stubborn. Her hand still on him, she shifts then pushes off with her foot leaping onto his back. Is it childish? Yes. Does she care right now? Clearly fucking not.
“Fucking hell,” he said, “I am not Edward, I am not going to play games with you. Get the fuck off my back, Lottie. This is absolutely fucking ridiculous, you are a grown woman for fuck’s sake.”
She knows how to balance them she wraps her arms around his chest leaning in to press her lips around his ear. Wrapping her legs tightly around his waist only which renders a frustrated growl from him.
“Who says I am playing games,” she whispers into his ear, “I want to talk to you.”
“There are better ways to get my fucking attention,” he says angrily, tapping her legs signaling for her to let go, “get the fuck off.”
“Is there because you certainly were making every effort to keep some distance from me just now? Fairly certain I called your name a few times. So, yeah this is how I am getting your attention Israel hands,” she said her voice low commanding.
“Get off my back, at least fucking look at me,” growling but sounding more defeated, “if you want to talk so fucking badly.”
Slipping off slowly she walks around to face him. But she is not giving him much space, standing purposefully close. Her nose practically touching his. Well, not that close but if she leans just slightly forward, it is possible.
Green meets hazel eyes, in his she sees the pain and anger. It broke her heart. Clearly he is making every effort of schooling his face looking passive with a hint of anger still looming. But it was all written there plainly enough that she could see his hurt. Her hand itched at her side to reach out, smooth each of those lines away.
“Now you’re silent? Fucking figures. You want my attention, yeah? Could have fucking fooled me, you’ve been all ‘oh, Edward you’re so funny’ and ‘oh, Edward let’s cuddle.” he said in a mock high pitch voice, “Oh, Edward you’re so handsome—”
“Is that supposed to be an impression of me? Are you…jealous?,” she cut him off, as if it was suddenly hitting her why he was upset. She went from amused to shock when the realization fully hit her. Fuck, she is so oblivious. Damn it, she hates when Ed is right. Oblivious Bonnets.
His face morphing, sputtering in protest, “N—Not fucking jealous.”
She presses a finger to his lips, he stares at her knitting his brows his chest rising with every breath. The adrenaline still rushing through both of their bodies. Removing her finger, she lightly runs her hands up his chest then over his shoulders as she steps closer, her arms wrapping around him bring her face closer to his.
“Don’t be a stubborn ass, Israel. Fuck, can’t you just let me tell you how much I like you. Care about you. Tell you that you’ve got it all very fucking wrong?”
She saw it, as he processed what she was saying. His eyes as he was searching hers. Felt the racing of his heart. Felt her own.
In a flash, his hands moving from his sides were now gripping waist tightly. His fingers pressing into her, the heat of his touch as he was pulling her to him, closing the gap surging forward crashing their lips together.
It began chaste, partly from hesitation on both of their parts. His of having been the one to make the first move and hers out of shock. Following a content sigh the kiss deepening as each of them were relaxing in the other's embrace.
Growing more heated adjusting his grip as if he needed to hold her closer as if she could never be close enough. In one fluid motion she rose into him legs curling into his hips. A gravity pulling her, always pulling her toward him.
She felt it; he was her anchor. Secure. Keeping her steady, from being adrift.
One arm securely around her waist and the other tightly embracing her back clutching her tightly, his lips eager and hungry. Hers just as wanting, fingers moving through his hair.
Walking through the door, Archie halting abruptly to a stop a look of almost horror, “Oh sh-shit!” Her mouth full of cereal from the bowl in her hand, spoon in the other still in mid-bite. Raising their hand to cover their eyes dropping the spoon into the bowl with a splash, “Ugh, wow…oh, yeah.”
Not far behind coming through the door, Jim nearly walking into them, “What?” their voice calling out. They were coming to join in on Charlotte’s physical therapy session. Peering around Archie to see what caused her stop so abruptly froze them in place, their eyes wide a mixture of horror then relief.
“Puta madre, no enfrente de los cereale. It’s about time,” their gaze shifting to the gym seeing movement rolling their eyes to the sky as if they were being cursed, “Mierda, worst timing. Could you two not fuck in the gym, seriously. You’re scaring Marcus.”
Pushing past Archie, and a very oblivious to their audience Charlotte and Izzy, running to stop Marcius from leaving who was clearly freaking out from the heavy make-out session happening.
Really, they were rushing to pay him to keep his stupid loud mouth shut (and threaten his life that if he tries to sell this story, they will find him).
Backing out slowly, Archie mumbling a few words claiming that they really didn’t need to see this today and their cereal was too pure for this. But like good going love their work. She bent down looking at an angle muttering about taking notes for later before leaving quickly cereal and milk sloshing out of her bowl.
Izzy was the one to slow the kiss pulling away resting his forehead against hers. Their lips kiss swollen, breaths heavy.
Smiling he sighs, “You are absolutely fucking insane. You know that? I like it, you have to know how much I adore you. Fuck, just—” he pauses brushing his nose against hers then ghosts his lips across her chin then across her jaw as he moves towards her ear.
“Lottie, love. I’m not good at this. None of it. But I know I want you, to be close to you. Whatever you need me to be.”
“I adore you,” she whispers softly, “I’m sorry if you thought otherwise. Everything has been so much and all I want is to scream some days. There is never a day or moment that I don’t want you near.”
He kisses her its less heated, its slow. She pulls back this time, knowing that there is so much more between them. More to say, easing back slightly he adjusts to support holding her. She runs a thumb along his cheek.
“We still need to talk. I know you have questions. But to ease your mind, a few quick things before it all comes flooding and you have an ‘oh fuck moment’. Marriage is open. I have to talk to Stede when he is back. For clarification, because it clearly upset you, Ed and I are just—” pausing not sure how to phrase it.
“I let my jealousy get out of hand. I love him, it’s easy for him to just be open. But yeah, I know, you two are a couple of psychotic house cats. I know,” Izzy huffs a laugh, god his lips were kiss swollen, and she badly wants to kiss them more but can’t help laughing.
“He’s making jokes now,” rolling her eyes, “Yeah, that very much sounds like us from what I keep being told but don’t tell Frenchie it would freak him out. He has this weird thing about cats, he already thinks I am a witch,” she laughs.
Sharing another chaste before resting her head against his shoulder, his arms wrapping around her hugging her close.
He feels her giggle against his neck, “What?”
“Finally managed to run Marcius off.”
“If you think you’re getting out of your physical therapy today, Lottie, you’ve got another think coming.”
Pulling back she pouts, “Oh, come on. Israel, love, you can’t be serious.”
“That fucking pout doesn’t work for Edward. Won’t work for you and don’t Israel love me. You are going to get your very sexy ass over to that mat, start your stretches and do your physical therapy. We can talk later.”
Leaning in one more time kissing her before shifting his hands move to her waist coaxing her shift, she felt his reluctance to let her go. Placing her feet back on the floor her arms still on his shoulder he gave her a look which was met with an eye roll pulling her hands back.
“Go on,” his voice fond but firm.
Glaring she reluctantly walks to the mat. As she made it to the center preparing to start her stretches, his voice cut through the gym. A mix of annoyance and exasperation, it was a tone he usually reserved for Edward.
“Where the fuck are your bloody trainers Lottie? Are you seriously barefoot?”
Looking down wiggling her toes. She had nearly forgotten about that, closing her eyes trying to remembering that at one point she was wearing them.
Recounting the day, she had taken them off at some point when she and Ed had raided the house for blankets. She thought about it for a moment, where had she taken them off at?
Izzy threw his hands up watching her realizing she had no earthly idea where she left them, “I swear there are days you are fucking worse than Edward. I don’t how that is fucking possible!”
“Oh, please. They might be in the library. I can go get them,” moving towards the door she saw him pointing at her.
“Don’t you fucking dare. You’re going to do your stretches at least you don’t need your fucking trainers to do them,” he turned toward the main door yelling.
“Oi! Archie, I know you’re still eavesdropping. Get in here,” he practically screamed, he waited for a moment, “now.”
The door busting open Archie stumbling in with a refreshed bowl cereal.
“Yeah? You…ugh, yelled?”
“Put the fucking cereal down. Go to the library, see if you can find her fucking trainers. Be quick about it.”
Giving him a salute before bolting out the door not waiting to be yelled at further, not giving up her cereal. She had learned early on that once Izzy gives a command you go. Charlotte just rolled her eyes settling onto the mat starting the first of the stretches.
Izzy came closer observing, crossing his arms. A blissful look on his face she noted, secretly pleased knowing she was the reason for it. Looking up at him she stuck out her tongue only earning her an affectionate eye roll.
Strolling into the gym from a side door hands in their pockets, Jim stood at the edge of the mats watching the two of them with a knowing look.
Shaking their heads after a stretch of silence, “By the way, if you two crazy kids care. I paid off Marcius. Well done, I think that’s a record on chasing off Physical Therapists. At least this time it was because you two were making out like you just discovered kissing.”
Izzy snorted. Charlotte giggled.
Jim looking unamused pointing a finger at each of them, “I swear, you two kind of are the worst. I love you both but you have some freaky weird timing. Two fucking grown ass adults, locas desastrosas.”
“It wasn’t intentional. We all know it was a matter of time. Marcius was a special kind of get under our skin,” she says moving into a stretch unbothered.
“Shame, Lucius was really looking forward to having the honor of letting him go,” Izzy said.
Jim snorted laughing, “I would have paid to see that.”
It was moments later when Archie showed up with Charlotte’s lost trainers and socks, much to her displeasure.
Izzy taking charge of physical therapy wasn’t so bad, better than Marcus at least.
Chapter 20
Summary:
Stede has been gone for just over four weeks. On a quiet Saturday, Buttons shares that Stede is back in Birmingham. He wants Charlotte, Ed, and Izzy to come to the Penthouse to join him for dinner.
They should be excited he is home. At least Ed is. But Charlotte is feeling uncertain, something deep down just doesn't feel right.
Siren and Muerte find themselves in active status.
Notes:
Plot, plot, plot..
Persuasion felt like a weirdly appropriate book for her to read, maybe it feels more appropriate for a later part of the story. But also, I just enjoy Austen. She and Stede were reading Count of Monte Cristo together when we first met them.
It's so canon in my head: Ed = Black Cat, Izzy = Chihuahua, Stede = Golden Retriever
I say this as a fellow Golden Retriever type, who wished and was convinced they were a black cat or even an orange cat. But alas, it's not true. My husband is the black cat. [My daughter is the orange cat].
I am so a golden retriever, one moment my husband says I am with him in the store he will barely turn his head and I am gone. Then suddenly reappear with something I found on a sudden side quest.
I digress. Charlotte, maybe an orange cat. No, tuxedo cat? Hmmm, open to thoughts in comments.
No fun facts. Just hang on for the next few chapters because PLOT.
Chapter Text
Almost another week later Charlotte is in the library, it’s a quiet Saturday. She is rereading Persuasion, she could not recall the last time she had read one of Austen’s novels. This one called to her from the shelves of their library when she was hunting for something to pass the time.
These days it was rare for the house to be so quiet, now that so many of the crew were coming and going. Today, was one of the more unusual days. Everyone was off in different parts of the house amusing themselves or off doing something. She was quietly enjoying the afternoon, a glass of wine and a book.
She was just getting to the part where Anne Elliot has offered to stay with her nephews for Mary when she hears footsteps approaching the library. Placing her bookmark between the pages she looks over to Jim expectantly.
A hint of amusement in their voice, “Heard me coming.”
“Recognized your footsteps,” sitting up further noticing Jim had a look of unease, “What is it?”
“Buttons is looking for you,” they say, “looking for you, Ed, and Izzy.”
“He’s looking for the three of us? Is Karl okay?” this doesn’t feel like an unusual occurrence but clearly something is amiss.
“Um, as far as I saw Karl is fine. Thing is, he says he received a call from Captain,” Jim says. Well, that certainly garnered her attention she rose from the chaise sitting up straight motioning Jim to elaborate.
“That’s it. Just that he said it is important to speak to you three. I told him I would come find you, which honestly was surprised to find only you,” there was a hint of disbelief in their tone.
“What is that supposed to mean?” her tone defensive, shocking even herself.
“Nothing, Madrina,” Jim countered, “sometimes if I find one you, it’s often that I can find the other close or with. I meant nothing by it.”
She sighs knowing how true that sentiment is; they spend quite a lot of time together. Even when Stede is home. All four of them are in each other’s orbits.
“Do you happen to know or have a guess where I can find either of them?” Jim asks cautiously.
She sets her book aside, rising.
“I haven’t seen Ed since this morning, he is likely with Archie wreaking havoc. Or with Frenchie. No, wait. Pete. He finally convinced Ed to watch a Kung-Fu movie with him. I have a sneaking suspicion one movie turned into a marathon.
Jim nods taking mental notes.
“My guess, at this hour either Israel is in my study working or is shadow fencing. Good chance it is the latter, he has been trying to work less on weekends.”
There is no hiding the affection in her tone, no matter how much she tries to mask it. She can see that Jim give her a look they are keenly aware she knows his schedule well.
“So, if you like, I can either go find Israel and you go hunt own Ed. Or the other way around,” she starts toward the door.
“No,” Jim says almost too loudly causing them both to jump, “I mean. I will get them. You stay here. No offense, if you go. Then it’s like herding two cats and an angry Chihuahua into one place.”
Charlotte tosses her hands up, “We are not that bad. Seriously, why is everyone calling us cats?”
Jim just nods laughing, “Yes, you are that bad.”
“What does that make Captain?” she laughs shaking her head.
“He’s a golden retriever,” Jim says point blank. Charlotte considers that for a moment.
“No, makes total sense,” as if there is no other answer, “fine, I will stay here. Let Buttons know.”
Jim nods and sets off to find the other two.
After several minutes later, Izzy arriving first having just put on a shirt at Jim’s request. Eventually, Ed coming into the room with Jim, he was indeed wreaking havoc with Archie in the garden after having watched two Kung-Fu movies with Pete.
They were shooting crossbows at home made targets and may have broken a few pots. Buttons and Karl come in after them.
“I am the bearer of ill tidings, Lady. Before ye get tears in ye eyes, Captain is well, in good health, but decidedly unwell.”
“What does that fucking mean,” Izzy is the first to say. He is standing next to Charlotte who places a hand on his arm shaking her head knowing full well that Buttons just speaks cryptically.
“Do go on, Buttons,” she says.
“Aye, Captain is settled now at the Penthouse having just returned from London and his travels. He is not who he was, but is who he looks to be.”
He looks gravely serious as he continues with his message, Karl ruffles his feathers.
“I received a call from him requesting that I fetch ye Lady, Blackbeard, and Mr. Hands. Ye are to dress in Cocktail fashion, come to the Penthouse this evening. Dinner, he says. He requests ye stay at the Penthouse tonight as well.”
The three of them exchange looks.
“So, just to make sure I have this clear,” she recounts his message. “Mr. Bonnet is back in Birmingham newly arrived from London. He is at the Penthouse instead of coming home. Called you to request that you give us a message, that we are to come there to be driven by yourself and Karl. The dress attire is cocktail, for dinner. We are to stay at the Penthouse tonight.”
She stares at Buttons expectantly hoping for confirmation that’s the message. Buttons opening his eyes wide staring at her, Karl on his head tilting to his own ruffling his wings, there is silence for what feels like minutes.
“Aye, Lady. That is the message. Be warned, he is not the Captain ye ken. Forces working against ye, there is dark magic afoot. Be on guard. Shadows lurk.”
“I’m going with you,” Jim says, it’s not a question. Charlotte nods in confirmation, there is no way she is going to without them.
The itch in the back of her brain is back, the feeling she had days ago. The little red flags from the conversations with the Director coming to mind.
“I think it’s safe to say, Iz and I don’t own cocktail attire,” Ed says motioning towards Izzy.
Israel nods slightly in agreement, she slips her hand into his giving it a squeeze.
“Don’t worry about that. You both should know better, you have seen the depths of the closets in this house. I have no doubt we can find something that will make you both look jaw-droppingly handsome.”
She leans into Israel then a whisper into his ear, “and sexy.” He flushes, “Fuck off,” he says no heat in his words.
Ed laughs clapping him on the shoulder, “If you two are done flirting, let’s go try on some clothes. Sooner we do the sooner we see Stede.”
Charlotte wishes she could share in his optimism.
After a few outfit changes, fittings and help from Wee John who was able to make quick alterations. They were all in the Rolls-Royce Shadow. Jim sitting up front with Buttons, dressed in one of their black suits they prefer for most occasions that require a certain level of elevated dress.
Ed wore a garnet velvet suit that fit his slim frame with effortless precision, the jewel tone flattering his skin and bringing out the warmth in his brown eyes. The lapel was embroidered with a find silver thread, a lightly paisley print. His shirt had light silver stripes that were subtle only glimmering in the light.
His long, silver-streaked hair was pulled half up, half down, and he’d left his shirt open just enough for the hawk tattoo at his chest to show, the pearl necklace resting against his collarbone a deliberate contrast to the sharpness of the look.
The suit Izzy wore a silk dark navy suit cut clean and close, the fit accentuating his broad frame. The color drew out the green flecks in his hazel eyes. He had opted for a tie, nothing elaborate, a paisley of silver and dark navy Charlotte had picked out for him. Not too dissimilar from the embroidery in Ed’s suit. She said it made them look well coordinated.
Now sitting in the back of the car with Charlotte between them, she was still wearing the yellow romper she had been wearing earlier. Her hair down around her shoulders. She was leaning her head against Izzy her arm threaded through his, her other hand in Ed’s as if they were grounding each other. There was no cause for the feeling that was mounting as they drew closer, yet they could all feel it.
Maybe, for Ed and Charlotte it was excitement to see the man they both love. Leaving Jim and Izzy, here for support of that nervous, eager energy.
As she thought about it more and more, never in her life has she ever felt like this before seeing her husband. It did not sit well with her.
The car slowly rolling to a stop in front of the apartment building, before Jim and Buttons left the car Charlotte spoke up.
“Buttons, Jim,” they turn to her each with a different expression on their face, “could you give us a moment before we get out?”
Buttons nods solemnly leaving the vehicle. Jim says nothing then exits closing the door. She watches them walk toward the back heading to the sidewalk to await them.
She can feel both sets of eyes on her, her heart is racing. Irrational or instinct?
“I want to say before we go in there, since the moment we step out we will be monitored. You know how we are about security. I know this sounds paranoid, but—” she takes a breath, god how does she say this without worrying them?
This is going to sound crazy? For all she knows, nothing is wrong.
“I’m not saying something happened. Just, that I hope you know how much I love you. If, just, if anything doesn’t seem right,” she looks at Ed when saying this, “there is a very good chance, it isn’t right.”
“Stede is waiting for us. It’s going to be okay, yeah?” He says squeezing her hand reassuringly.
Fuck, he thinks I’m crazy, she smiles, “Just nerves, I guess. You know me, lots of stress.”
Kissing her cheek, he lets her hand go before slipping out of the car. His door shuts, she just sits there. She is staring at it willing away this feeling that is settling deep inside.
Israel is still beside her, their arms still intertwined. A gentle tug, she turns to him he looks worried. He leans forward pressing his lips to hers, they share a kiss. She feels his fingers lightly brush against her neck, leaving a warm trail before she feels him moving away.
His fingers now gently caressing her jaw. He searches her eyes, his tone full of worry, “What’s going on?”
“I have never in my life felt dread before going to see Stede. No explanation for it, something about this doesn’t feel right.”
His thumb brushes against her cheek, “I believe you. If you are saying you feel this way, then we can figure it out. I am here, right beside you, my North.”
He presses his lips to her forehead; she sighs feeling the press of his lips. Feeling grounded by his touch, his presence, My anchor.”
Taking a moment to gather her composure she gives him a nod when she is ready. He moves opening the door getting out of the vehicle then waits for her offering his hand to assist her. Jim looks even more concerned than before she waves them away that it is nothing.
Buttons fetches her wardrobe bag handing it over to Jim. He leans close to Charlotte, “Love always wins over the shadows, Lady. Stay true.”
She casts him a look, Karl squawks as they walk away toward the car. That does not help how she is feeling right now, at all. Thank you very much Button and Karl.
The elevator ride does not dispel the tension building in her stomach, she focuses on her breath. She feels Israel close to her, by her side. He reaches a finger out; she curls her own around his. It’s grounding, an anchor.
She has to let him go as she leads the way toward the door, once more unto the breach she thinks to herself.
As she walks into the penthouse, music floats on the air from the living room. Noises from the kitchen, clear sounds of cooking with wafts of smells that support dinner is clearly being made. It’s still a few hours until dinner.
Slipping into herself, her shoulders back she walks towards the living room. Jim close behind her. She pauses, the feeling chills inside her when she sees him.
Stede.
Standing staring out at the skyline, a glass tumbler in hand with a couple of fingers of an amber liquor. This is not what has her on edge, it was what he is wearing. His back turned to them, the dark charcoal grey cut close with lines too sharp for his usual softness.
Tailored well, but not tailored for fashion. It reminded her of the suits their father’s wear. Even from behind, the set of his shoulders carried a certain gravity that was setting her further on edge.
Slowly turning having heard their arrival, an almost predatory smile curving his lips, his hair styled with a touch more control than he ever gave it. Gone were his curls, the swoops. The very Stedeness of it.
Raising an arm in welcome still holding his drink walking to greet them all.
“Here you all are,” he says his tone almost formal, short of its usual warmth.
She took in his whole suit now, very much like the ones she saw in Whitehall. Not the full slick polish of The Gentleman. No, even those suits had whimsy to their style no matter how posh they look. They were always still very Stede. Colorful, charming. A bit of flair.
But this style, this look. The knowledge of what that version of her husband is capable of, as The Gentleman, is close enough that Charlotte’s stomach tightened.
This suit, this man, is not her husband. It’s a shadow wearing his face. Button’s words rang in her head.
“Hello darling,” plastering a smile on her face walking toward him, “I can’t tell you how surprised I was to hear you weren’t coming to the house.”
Reaching her hand to his, he took it pulling her to him. Kissing her cheek, then looking at her outfit, “Mmm, well you see I ran into an old acquaintance on the train. He and an associate of his, they’re in town on business. I thought it would only be right to invite them to dinner.”
“Oh, well. That was very thoughtful of you,” she could see the lack of warmth in his hazel eyes, there was a flash of something there. Was it anger?
“Darling, you’re not dressed for dinner,” he said disapprovingly, the look was not only cold but a hint of danger. She wasn’t sure, but every instinct in her body as an agent was on alert.
Looking down at her outfit, she laughed then booped him on the nose, “Silly, you know better. I never travel in a car in my dress if I can help it. Wrinkles. Besides, I have a whole room and space to change. I have my dress just there.”
Pointing to Jim who is holding the garment bag. His eyes drift to where she is pointing, she catches the moment he realizes Jim is with them. Another flash of annoyance, perhaps disapproval. Frustration of being disobeyed most likely. Clearly, not expecting them.
“Of course, well why don’t you go and get ready. I will pour some drinks for our associates. Dinner is in about two hours,” he kisses her cheek once more.
She casts a glance to Ed and Izzy, she can see confusion in Ed’s eyes but he is clearly schooling his face. She meets Izzy’s gaze, it’s knowing. He looks furious just as on alert as she is.
His eyes shift to Stede then drift back to her almost questioning, but she subtly shakes her head that she is fine. A slight nod of understanding almost imperceptible.
She walks to the master bedroom, Jim closely behind.
Once they are in the room, Charlotte locks the door. She presses a finger to her lip then walks over to the mechanism that triggers the door to her auxiliary wardrobe. Locating the panel finding the equipment for Jim to scan the room for any bugs and listening devices.
Jim starts to speak but quickly closes their mouth when she shakes her head pressing her lips indicating she will not answer questions until they do a sweep. They conduct it quickly while Charlotte slips into her dress, then readies herself.
Once the room has been swept, finding no devices Jim is on her in a flash.
“La puta madre, maldita sea, hostia… qué demonios está pasando!” they are hissing trying to keep their voice down.
“If I knew, I would tell you. But what I do know, that is not Stede. Or well, it is but—” she is sitting down at her vanity sorting through the cosmetics.
She is trying to wrap her own mind around what is happening. “you see it right? I mean he’s dressed like my Father! I have never seen him wear a suit like that, even under cover.”
“I know as soon as I saw him. It felt all wrong. The hairs on my arm stood up,” they hissed, “that look he gave me. It was so cold. Vieja has never looked at me like that.”
“Something happened on that mission, Jenkins said he was late to a check-in. But I can’t imagine what could happen to cause…well this!” She motioned toward the door indicating the man who is not her husband.
Heart pounding as she continued to do her makeup, never in her career has she been faced with anything like this. She has seen a lot of weird things.
Pausing holding a brush in mid-action looking at Jim in the mirror's reflection.
“Can you get the Director on a secure line? We have time, he’s distracted. He thinks I am getting ready.”
She motions to the wardrobe where one of the secure lines is located. Jim nods hurrying toward the room. Moments later they are brining her the receiver.
“Agent Stuart?” Jenkin’s voice asks, Jim must have already given a code word to connect.
“Sir, when Stede reported in with you. Did you notice any changes in behavior or about his person in general?” she knew this sounded crazy, but with Jim even seeing it well they have no other option.
“Yes. He was rather formal, not his usual jovial self. To be quite honest, we have some agents looking into why he was late for the check-in. His report, while thorough per usual, triggered a few concerns. We had agents tailing him when he left here about a week and a half ago—” he was saying.
“Did you say a week and a half ago?” she cut him off, nearly two weeks he has been back in England.
“Yes? You sound surprised, Agent Stuart.”
“Sir, my husband only showed back up to Birmingham and contacted me today,” her voice as steady as she could manage.
“Ah, well. Agents assigned to tail him reported unusual activity. Several visits to the Garrick Club, a few dinners with members of Whitehall, a judge, a handful of others. Quite suddenly the very busy socialite considering how much you and your husband avoid your own circles, all things considered. I believe he even had dinner with his father. A visit to a known tailor popular amongst the Whitehall crowd, which is admittedly the most unusual behavior on its own.”
“You’re sure?” none of it made any sense. Stede hates his father, but it was also first and foremost out of character for him not tell her when he was back in England to start with.
“Charlotte, we suspect something is amiss. My advice, keep sharp. Report back anything unusual. I know you are not cleared for active duty, this is your husband,” he says softly, compassionately, “I have known you both a long time. We don’t know what happened, but we are concerned that Agent Bonnet has been compromised.”
“What are you saying,” her voice calm quiet. There was a sigh on the other end, he cleared his voice then his tone shifted from friendly concern to his offical tone.
“Siren. Your orders are to monitor Agent Bonnet. Report any unusual activity, people that he meets with or that he introduces to you. Collect evidence. Report in regularly. If he is compromised, detain him at Level X.”
“Should he be deemed compromised, Sir?” It’s an absurd question to ask as a senior agent, with her history in the agency. He would know why she is asking and never fault her for it.
“You know protocol,” there was a pause, clearly hesitating, “Call me first. That’s an order. Inform Muerte of the orders.”
“Yes, sir.” The line went dead. Jim was stone still watching her. Their gaze heavy, knowing. “Nuestras órdenes?”
“Siren and Muerte - Active Status. We are to monitor Agent Bonnet, code name The Gentleman. Report all activities and persons he associates with back to command. Suspected of being compromised. If evidence found, detain at Level X. Evoke protocols.”
Hazarding a glance she could see Jim’s bottom lips move slightly the only sign of emotion then a curt nod.
Chapter 21
Summary:
Stede is back from mission, but something is very much not right. It's like they have stepped into the Twilight Zone. As the evening progresses and the two awaited dinner guest arrive they quickly find out not is all that it seems.
Charlotte, Izzy, Ed, and Jim definitely are not going crazy.
Notes:
You will note at some point, you may see there is a shift in a character name. I went back and forth about this originally I was not going to do it narratively, just have it offhandedly mentioned as something Ed says.
But as other chapters progressed, it felt right. I want to help give a sense of what is happening here. Maybe it does or doesn't. We are definitely wading deeper into the plot at this point. I am going back editing to have this name shift, so trying to catch it where I can, as well for this part of the plot.
Yesterday, I hit a point with the storyline where I got really sad. Because I think I know how many chapters this will be now. I've mentioned I had the final scene and epilogue written. Many chapters written ahead, I know the plot on a bigger scale.
It's all coming together on my end and I sat here staring Novlr, it's what I use to write and keep track of all my writing. I got really sad, because it's almost done. For me, I am writing things that get me emotional in a different part of the story than where you are at.
All that being said, not updating the chapter count yet. Taking time over the next couple of days to sit with the back part of the story not that it needs to be longer than it is (GOD it's longer than I thought it would end up being) but because I want to do the characters and story justice.
Thanks for reading and joining me on this journey.
Cheers xoxo
Chapter Text
Ed felt like he was in a twisted version of his life, staring at Stede dressed in a charcoal suit. There was nothing about the man he recognized, except the fact that he has Stede’s face. Charlotte’s worry in the car, the look her eyes. Her nervous anxiety was making sense.
She would have said something sooner if she had known. As close as they are, he could see Izzy practically buzzing where he stood. She must have said more to him in the car. A few deep breaths in then slowly out.
Charlotte clearly was playing a role, it was clear the moment she saw him. The moment he faced them all, she slipped into another version of herself. Like she was protecting herself.
“Please, come sit. Let me get you a drink,” he motioned toward the sofa.
Izzy shifting his to the side, indicating for Ed to take the lead. Something in his eyes, put Ed on edge. Concern. Fuck, if Izzy is concerned then something is definitely wrong.
“What can I get you, Edward,” not-Stede asks him, a pearly smile flashed at him.
Real Stede wouldn’t have to ask, he slips into Blackbeard taking a page from Charlotte’s book.
“Whatever you’re having, mate,” his voice calm commanding.
Not-Stede looks impressed, he turns to Izzy.
“Mr. Hands, you seem like a gin man, martini?” he points a finger like he’s trying to be cool.
Izzy snorts, “Fucking hate gin, Bonnet. Just a whiskey is fine, neat.”
Unphased he laughs, “Ha. Can’t get them all right.”
Setting his own drink down, he pulls out two chiseled tumblers from the bar. Then pulls the top off one of the chiseled crystal decanters pouring a liquid amber into it. Then does the same from another.
Turning he walks over handing Izzy his, who is still standing off to the side. Not-Stede eyes him curiously but says nothing. He walks to Ed then hands him his before returning to reclaim his own.
“Well, cheers then,” he says rather cockily raising his glass, “to good company. To the success of the company, I have a good feeling BonaBon is about to enter its next era of great success.”
He tips his drink back. Both Ed and Izzy exchange looks then sip their own.
Not-Stede turns to Ed, “I cannot tell you, Edward, how pleased I am to have you helping to really take charge of the company. You know, having a man behind the helm during these times of trouble.”
Something about the way he says it puts Ed on edge.
“Course, glad to be part of the company. Right time for both of us. Besides, you know how much you and Charlotte have come to mean to me,” he says the last part as a test, to gauge Not-Stede’s reaction.
“Of course, you have been such a good friend to us both. It means a lot to know, we have a good friend in you for our business.”
Dickfuck, what the fuck, Ed thinks. It’s all he can do not to outwardly react. He catches the sudden stiffness in Izzy’s posture. If the man was not standing stiff and angry before. He certainly is now.
“We are certainly lucky to have you as well, Mr. Hands. CSO is a very important role. I know we have had our differences, I appreciate your remarkable loyalty. I’ve no doubt Charlotte appreciates your… deep devotion. She seems to find you indispensable in more ways than one.”
There is no hiding the rage behind Izzy’s eyes, as the man is turning a few shades of red beneath the color. His grip tight on the glass, the other fist clenched. Not-Stede is keenly aware his words hit the target as intended.
“A damn fine CEO. Proud to serve under her, Bonnet, or in any position I can.”
Ed chose the wrong time to drink his whiskey then, he nearly snorted it through his nose. He was grateful to use it as an excuse of it going down his windpipe rather than a laugh. He caught the fury behind Not-Stede’s eyes, one point for ole Izzy.
“Well, enough talk of work,” Not-Stede said, looking at his watch, “Excuse me while I check on dinner. I hired a wonderful chef to create our meal this evening. Please, excuse me.”
Once he was out of the room, Ed was on his feet rushing over to Izzy who was still clearly fuming.
“Dickfuck, first, fuck me, that was hilarious with the whole positions thing,” he laughs quietly but Izzy just rolls his eyes, “also, Roach is going to filet him when he finds out Not-Stede hired another chef.”
Clearly the nickname got Izzy’s attention. “Not-Stede?”
“Yeah, mate. I don’t know what is going on, but clearly—” he motions toward the direction where Not-Stede left the room.
“What did she say to you in the car after I got out,” his voice quieter hoping to not be heard, not knowing when he would return.
“Concern, felt uneasy. I know what you’re asking, the answer is no. She was just as caught off guard as the rest of us,” he was defensive his words almost a growl.
Ed raised his hands, “Whoa, okay. Clearly. I saw her reaction, she slipped her mask on just like I had to with Blackbeard.”
They heard footsteps, Ed quietly crept back to where he had been sitting then resumed sipping his drink. Leaning back with the ease he often displayed when slipping into the role of Blackbeard. It was easy to be him, to hide Ed away. A layer of protection.
Charlotte came into the room, a look of relief when she saw only them. He hair done up in her usual style. Her dress was a tailored cocktail piece cut just above the knee, the fabric a deep sapphire with a subtle paisley print in muted silver and midnight tones that echoed the navy of Izzy’s suit. Around her neck the locket she never took off since he had given it to her on Christmas.
Long fitted sleeves and a high back gave it an elegant modesty, while the clean lines showed off the length of her legs. Her silver strappy heels caught the light with every step, a subtle shimmer that echoed the silver detailing.
Well, if the insinuations being made earlier weren’t clear enough of an accusation, the color scheme of their outfits would definitely catch the eye. His own coordination to their outfits subtle but with the three of them standing together, someone might put it all together their closeness to one another. Ordinarily, he would say fuck them all.
Ed wondered if Not-Stede would even notice, he clearly did not have their Stede’s flair for fashion and detail.
Jim was behind her, stoic and watchful. Looking over toward as if asking where Not-Stede had gone, Ed he nodded head toward the kitchen indicating where, they nodded.
“You look lovely,” Izzy said quietly as she came closer to him.
Offering him a soft smile, “Thank you.”
“I see you both have drinks,” she said slipping into hostess mode..
Lifting his glass to her, “All taken care of. Why don’t you sit and relax?”
He saw her hesitation, her uneasy look at Jim. Something was definitely going on, he really wished they could find a place for them all to talk. Just then the buzzer for the door sounded causing them all to jump nervously.
Not-Stede came through the living room, “Ah, our guests are here,” he paused seeing his wife, “Oh darling, you are such a vision. Stunning.”
His eyes drifting from her to Izzy just then then narrowing as if he was piecing something together. Well, maybe Ed was wrong, or maybe it’s their close proximity to the other. But he has a feeling that Not-Stede was not too pleased by their coordination. Clearly, only noticing their outfits and not his.
The buzzer sounding once more reminding them all that someone was at the door, “I will get that, back in a tick.”
“I’m getting a drink,” she mumbled walking toward the bar, Jim comes to her side whispering.
“One will affect nothing,” she said sharply to whatever had been said.
Footsteps were approaching the living room, Ed turned to see Not-Stede arrive. Behind him two men, wearing not too dissimilar suits from his own. Both clearly cut from the same cloth of privilege of society.
The first was tall and broad, well-built in the way of a man who had once played sport and never lost the physique for it. Dark hair swept back in careless waves gave him a rakish air, handsome enough to turn heads of any persuasion. A clear chiseled jaw, a look of a man used to get his own way.
Yet there was something colder beneath the surface. His blue eyes gleaming too sharp, a practiced smile lingering just shy of cruelty, a man who wore power like a second skin.
The other was leaner, sharper, his movements precise where his companion’s were bold. A narrow face framed by pale blue eyes and a mouth fixed in perpetual amusement gave him the look of someone who thrived on watching others falter.
He carried himself like a shadow, less striking at first glance, but far more dangerous for the calculation behind every step.
“Well, let me make the introductions,” Not-Stede says cheerfully, “may I present Earl Charles Vane and Rupert Hawthorn.”
A glass shattering on the floor when Charle’s name mentioned ignored as Not-Stede finished the introduction. But everyone in the room’s attention was clearly directed at the bar where Charlotte’s back was still turned to them all. Jim tense, knowing the name all too well.
Slowly turning schooling her face acting as if nothing had happened at all, drawing her eyes to meet the steely blue eyes that often haunted her nightmares.
“Oh darling, my goodness are you alright?” Not-Stede asked but there was no real concern in his voice, turning his attention to Jim suddenly, “would you mind fetching the maid to see to that.”
Jim only nodding almost reluctant to leave Charlotte’s side but quickly left.
His hungry smile widened seeing her, “Well, hello Charlotte. Still an absolute vision.” His voice smooth, a low timbre.
“Oh, I forget that you two are acquainted,” Not-Stede feigns a laugh. Charles offers his own amused laugh his gaze never leaving her, watching her with hungry eyes.
Every fiber in Izzy’s body is telling him to go to her, take her and leave. Restraining himself from reacting as he stands calmly near her, unmoving. He feels her close. She’s mentioned his name, once, they had been engaged. Arranged by her father. The only time he heard her speak his name, he could hear the fear.
Casting a glance at Ed, he can see he is on edge. Clearly, he knows. Likely knows more considering how close as they are. Jim returns taking their place by her side, the maid not far behind seeing to the broken glass.
“Well gentleman, let me introduce you to my charming wife. Mrs. Charlotte Bonnet,” he walks down to her, taking her hand into his own.
He grips her hand tightly to the point it hurts, it’s not affectionate, almost as if he is scolding her. She doesn’t flinch, no signs that she is aware of any pressure at all.
Gritting her teeth not allowing it to show she nods to them forcing a smile, her voice charming like honey, “It’s a pleasure, welcome to our home. We are so happy to have you.”
She does not miss a step; she hates how she can calmly just play this role. By then he is on to introducing Jim as their head of Security, working for them privately and at BonaBon.
Motioning then to Izzy, “This is our CSO, Mr. Israel Hands coming from Blackbeard Consultants.”
Pleasantries exchanged, then Not-Stede releasing her walks to Ed. Offering him a smile, stretching out his arm as if he is on display. Ed rises, the persona of Blackbeard secured firmly into place.
“This gentleman, well he almost needs no introduction. Is our COO, Blackbeard. One Edward Teach, we are so fortunate to have him at the helm of BonaBon at this hour of our need. Our real leader, at the helm leading us toward new horizons.”
Ed can see the flash of anger in Charlottes eyes even from here. He feels his own, what the fuck is that supposed to mean. Both men move down to the lower level toward him.
Rupert comes to him first offering him a hand, “My goodness, you are quite the legend. It is absolutely an honor. I daresay, when I heard that Bonnet was able to not only to get you on contract. Then later read he was able to bring you on as COO. Believe you me, I was quite jealous.”
He slapped Not-Stede on the back who was offering a rather smug smile after the whole feat had been his own doing.
“Quite, ole Bonny-boy here is quite the businessman indeed. Not bad for a Cambridge man,” Charles said ghosting a fake punch that Not-Stede pretended to defend then counter with a laugh.
Jim who was close to Charlotte’s ear so quietly ghosted into her ear, “Are we in hell, what the fuck is happening right now?”
Charlotte had no words, she simply watched in horror her head shaking. Just then a voice cleared, another made. Everyone turning eyes on her, “Sir, dinner is served.”
“Ah, excellent timing. Well chaps, shall we?” he clapped Ed on the back.
In the dining room, Not-Stede at the Head. Charles on his right. Charlotte on his left, having to face her fucking ex-fiance. Rupert next to her. Ed beside Charles. Izzy beside Ed, at least he is in her line of sight. Then Jim by Ruper, not bloody optimal.
In Ed’s opinion the food was bland. Clearly, Not-Stede has no idea what good food is, because Roach is an amazing cook. He is almost tempted to let Roach have at him, but of course he can’t because somewhere in there is his Stede.
He also cannot concentrate, because all he can think about is taking this fucking tiny fork and stabbing into Charles’ eye for what he put his lovely Moon through all those years ago. Oh yeah, he knows all about the sadistic prick.
She had finally confided in him a few nights ago, when he couldn’t sleep why she desperately did not want to marry him. Well there were many, but what she told him…well, skinning him would be too good for him.
Rupert was an annoying, simpering little prick. He was going on and on with questions about past contracts and clients. Of course, Blackbeard could talk about it in his sleep. So, he was on autopilot. Not his first mindless wanker dinner party.
What he could not figure out, why the fuck would Not-Stede willingly have Charles here. Because their Stede knows the full history, it’s a big part of why they were married. Something was not adding up.
“I have to ask,” Rupert says leaning forward, “the deal with Red Flag. First, I must say impressive, risky move considering the portfolio and maturity of BonaBon. Going global and targeting a a mature company with a fierce reputation. And all else fairer considered concerning aspects of their leadership.”
He tsk’d the meaning of his intent did not go above Ed’s head he heard a growl from Izzy beside him he heard it, as well.
“Stroke of genius securing probationary terms, then announcing your role as COO. Adding another layer of stability of the organization. Do you intend on targeting them for acquisition once your are more friendly and built the trust of their leadership? It would be quite the daring play, if anyone would be able to pull it off. Well, it goes without saying.”
It’s a snake of a question, he knows what he is asking. Rupert is the type of man who doesn’t believe women should be in leadership roles.
“For the moment, our focus is fulfilling the probationary terms so we can secure a retainer to solidify the partnership. Have to build a foundation,” he knew no matter what he says, men like this will twist his words.
Rupert winks then thumbs his nose, “Mums the word, ole boy. I will say, I admire how far BonaBon has managed to rise all things considered. It certainly is ready for a new stage of growth. With that should come big changes,” he says, “Wouldn’t you agree Charles?”
His friend shifts his gaze toward him, “Couldn’t agree more. It’s admirable, the recent growth is inspiring under your helm, Edward.”
Charlotte bristles, she feels Not-Stedes hand slide onto her thigh. Casting a glance at him he is not even looking at her. His focus on the other two men.
“Quite, my recommendation to you Bonnet. Leadership, Bonnet, is often judged by its ability to adapt. Sometimes the most strategic move a company can make is to prove it isn’t afraid of change at the very top.”
“What is that supposed to mean,” Charlotte asks her tone sharp.
Holding up his hands, “Ah, forgive me, Mrs. Bonnet. I do have a knack for provoking strong reactions. Especially from women of conviction. It’s never my intent, but it does seem—. Let’s just say it’s a particular effect I have. Part of my charm.”
“As the CEO of BonaBon, under my leadership, this company has grown stronger, faster, and more profitable than any of its competitors. That is what partners and markets recognize.”
“Of course you have dear, no one is questioning that,” he says in a condescending tone clearly patronizing her.
Ed slips a hand onto Izzy’s arm, he can feel him moving. It eases him into his seat. Catching his eye, he gives him a subtle nod of don’t do it.
There is no denying the energy remains tense, but the dinner continues. As it winds down, Not-Stede invites the men to have a nightcap. Charlotte excuses herself to her room. As much as Izzy wants to make his excuses, he can feel Not-Stede’s watchful eye. So he remains with them for the drink.
While they enjoy their drinks, Charlotte makes her call to the Director. Informing him about the two guests, conversation, and change in behavior. Jim suggest she sleep in the room with them tonight, but Charlotte worries it may be suspicious.
They depart leaving her to settle into bed. Some hours later, she hears the door. Not-Stede comes into the room, seeing her awake he walks toward his closet to change into his nightclothes. She watches him walking into the bathroom for his nightly rituals.
When he returns her focus was on the book she was pretending to read, honestly she has no clue what it was. It had been whatever she had left the last time they had slept here. Which felt like another lifetime so long ago.
“Well,” he said laying back against the headboard, “that could have gone better than it did. But it recovered well, I daresay our guests will not hold that against us.”
She felt the anger rising inside of her. Outwardly she hardly moved, she only tilted her head as if she was finishing a line before turning her attentions to him.
“Well, at least you can rest soundly in that comfort,” her smile never reaching her eyes, clearly placating him.
He was not smiling, his eyes held no adoration. They were cold; she had never seen her husband look at her like that.
“I am serious, Charlotte,” his tone low admonishing her like she is a child who behaved poorly, “how embarrassing. I’ll admit, bad form on my part not for warning you about Charles. I know you were engaged to him before we married. But that whole outburst with Rupert. My goodness, I would expect a woman of your breeding and caliber to compose herself in a better manner.”
She continued to stare at him, keeping her breaths shallow calming herself to maintain composure.
“Furthermore, your whole demeanor all evening was abhorrent. I know you were raised better, to be a better hostess. As my wife, I expect you to make our guests feel welcome. Don’t think for one moment, it escaped me you and your Israel were parading about together, too close by half, dressed to match like some tawdry display. Absolutely embarrassing.”
She could see he was furious. Never in her life had she seen him this way, anger yes. In situations where he and Izzy had a bit of a tiff. But this, it reminded her…it reminds her of her father.
Not-Stede shifted to lean over her, his arm bracketed around her closing her in. His face close to hers.
“You are my wife. Whatever little affair you have going on with Mr. Hands ends now. It’s unseemly. You damn well know I don’t keep a mistress and I very well could. Don’t think it didn’t cross my mind. I expect you to have some respect. With our CSO of all people.”
His eyes were blazing with anger, placing her hands on his shoulders, “Stede,” she says quietly. Searching for any sign or hint of her husband, but all she can see is the coldness of this imposter. She resigns into her mask, her act.
“Darling, please. You’re right. I’m sorry, I acted poorly tonight and the shock of Charles is no excuse,” placing her hand on his cheek, feeling like she is touching a stranger. It breaks her heart looking at the face of her husband feeling that it isn’t him.
She kisses him chastely. He leans into her, then pulls her close rolling her on top of him. The kiss is not passionate. It is not deepened.
He brushes her hair back looking at her, “I love you, Charlotte. I have loved you since University. All I ask is that you are loyal and respect me.”
She nods, “Of course.”
Shifting to lie beside him, her head against his chest. The only thing in her mind is she has to figure out what happened to him and figure out how to fix it. To get back the man she loves.
She had called ahead to Lucius trying to explain the circumstance before they left the penthouse the day after the dinner party. He thought she was joking, but then Jim threatened to lock him into a trunk hiding him away in a secret passage.
As soon as they found a moment alone after arriving at the house, Izzy told Charlotte about what Stede had said while she was getting changed. She told him about what had happened in bed. She ran her fingers through his hair, assuring him that her affections were unchanged. They would figure this out.
Holding her close, they hang onto their moment alone. Knowing for a while they would be few under his watchful gaze.
They find Ed, she tells them both about her orders well part of them. About suspicions that something happened during his mission but there no leads, but she knows something happened during the mission. Both Ed and Izzy agree it’s the only thing makes sense.
Even her closeness with Ed would be in question. His relays anger about Charles being in attendance. Izzy agrees, furious that Stede would have the fucking audacity to invite the man to dinner. A clear indicator he is not in his right mind.
They all agreed that they need a plan to observe, keep tabs on his activities. Share if he does anything more unusual. There has to be some way of figuring out how it happened or how they might reverse.
She did not tell them what her orders were if he was in fact compromised. She did not have the heart to tell them.
Not-Stede is not a fan of Lucius, who is so not a fan of whatever is going on with him. Talk about mid-life crisis. For the first time in Lucius’ career he is wearing a tailored suit to work, and it is “not cute.”
Days turn into weeks, still no change. Not-Stede remains which leaves the crew feeling unsettled. Charlotte does what she can to keep them from him, ensuring that they are kept separate in the house. Continuedly telling them that Captain is fine, he is just going through something.
Wee John comments that he clearly is given his sudden very hetero poor fashion choices.
Then there is a confrontation about Pete’s missing sleeves, which leads to a rather upset confused Pete who understands. But feels very uncomfortable in his new starched sleeved security shirts. Reminds them all, daily and often, that his sweet, sweet karate moves are rendered ineffective with sleeves. How can he properly protect them, if he can’t use his karate. Because he is a karate master.
Charlotte assured him, that she understood, and it would be temporary. She had no doubt of Pete’s mastery of karate but that she was still confident in his ability as a valued member of the BonaBon security team and member of the crew.
Ed nodded in agreement giving him a thumbs up. Giving Pete a boost of pride and something he told everyone who came to BonaBon that the CEO and Blackbeard, and like both his best friends, said themselves.
Chapter 22
Summary:
It becomes more unsettling as clearly Not-Stede is here to stay? The crew is unsettled.
Wee John think he is having a crisis of hetero fashion. Lucius is not a fan. Poor Pete, what about his sleeves? Don't you know they hinder his sweet, sweet karate moves?
There is something more sinister happening here. For everyone's sakes, they are hoping to uncover what it is. Because they would like to have their Stede back.
Notes:
Longer chapter day.
Warning toward the end, bringing up the infertility topic.
Continuing to differentiate Not-Stede and Stede, which you will find helpful as we move into the next chapter. Honestly, the end of this chapter was also one of the story points that had be going back to "maybe we should draw a line between Not-Stede and Stede Stede."
I think you will see why later. The next chapter, as well.
As I said before, this is but a bump in the plot because our big bad is still looming out there.
Thank you for the continued comments (and any future). Staying on this journey with me. It's been emotional for me as this story develops.
Cheers xo
Chapter Text
Calling ahead to Lucius, she tried to explain the circumstances before they left the penthouse the morning after the dinner party. At first he thought she was joking, but then Jim cut in over the phone, threatening to lock him in a trunk and stash him in a secret passage. That definitely got his attention, he promised to make sure the house was clear to avoid any interactions. There was still a hint of skepticism in his voice.
As soon as they found a moment alone after arriving at the house, Izzy told Charlotte what Not-Stede had said while she was getting changed. She told him about what had happened in bed that evening. It upset him, but what else could they do? She had to play the part in case he was being monitored.
It wasn’t only that. He asked if she had changed her mind about them, if they needed to just forget it. It broke her heart. She admitted they would have to be careful and keep up appearances, pretending nothing was happening. Clearly, Not-Stede was operating on traditional marriage values with no memory of what their marriage had been before.
Her lips found his in a chaste kiss. She assured him her affections were unchanged and that they would figure this out. Holding each other close, they clung to the moment, knowing such chances would be rare under Not-Stede’s watchful gaze.
Later, when they found Ed, she told them both about her orders—or at least part of them. She spoke of her suspicions that something had happened during Not-Stede’s mission. There were no leads, but she knew something had gone wrong. Both Ed and Izzy agreed it was the only explanation that made sense.
Even her closeness with Ed would be in question. He was furious about Charles being in attendance, and Izzy agreed, livid that Not-Stede would have the audacity to invite the man to dinner. It was a clear sign he was not in his right mind.
They agreed they needed a plan to observe and keep tabs on his activities. They would share anything unusual and look for some way to figure out what had happened, or how they might reverse it.
She did not tell them what her orders were if he was in fact compromised. She did not have the heart.
Days turn into weeks, still no change. Not-Stede remains which leaves the crew feeling unsettled. Charlotte does what she can to keep them from him, ensuring that they are kept separate in the house. Assures them that Captain is fine, just going through something.
Wee John comments he clearly is given his sudden very hetero poor fashion choices.
Not-Stede is not a fan of Lucius, who is so not a fan of whatever is going on with him. For the first time in Lucius’ career he is wearing a suit to work, and it is “not cute.”
Then there is a confrontation about Pete’s missing sleeves, which leads to a rather upset confused Pete. Charlotte finds him and explains it will be temporary. She is sorry she cannot explain furhter. He said he understands and even if it feels very uncomfortable. He reminds them all daily that his sweet, sweet karate moves rendered ineffective with sleeves. Meaning he can’t protect them as well.
As the days go by, Ed has been avoiding Stede’s office. He no longer hangs around or sits in there having tea. When he sees him in the hall or near, he turns around to avoid him as much as he can. Most often he is in Charlotte’s office despite the proximity.
To be fair, his own office is fairly close to Stede’s. Despite having decorated his space, it’s coming along nicely. He has a pension for being around one of his Bonnets. At the moment, in his mind, he is down one Bonnet.
It was here that Not-Stede found them having tea, his face unreadable as he knocking on her door.
“Interrupting a meeting?” he asked.
“Oh, just having tea. Discussing a few of the upcoming projects,” she offered him a seat.
“Well, how nice,” his smile taut, “I am glad I found you both. I figured this would be easier than trying to schedule a meeting.”
Setting her cup down, leaning back into her chair she gave him her full attention.
“A meeting about what, Stede?”
“You have my attention, mate,” Ed said having set his down on the table beside him.
“As you both are very aware, this is a big year for the company. A year of growth. The partnership, albeit still in the probationary stage, places us in an upward projection Providing us with an unprecedented acceleration of growth, well,” he leans back in his chair, crossing his legs.
Both watching him with wrapt attention, each suspecting where this conversation is going feeling an eerie recollection of a not so long ago dinner party.
“As a co-founder and leader of this company, as well as head of the household, I think it is time for us to consider heading into a new direction with leadership. A new leader at the helm of BonaBon.”
“What the fuck does that mean,” Ed could feel his anger rising, “Are you suggesting what I think you are?”
Looking over to Charlotte whose face shows no sign of emotion or reaction, her focus steadily on Not-Stede. Raising her hand toward Ed a signal to let Not-Stede continue. Ed thinking Not-Stede is fucking lucky that neither Jim or Izzy are in the room right now.
“What I am saying is, after everything that has happened this year, the sabbatical to heal. No one would begrudge you of that, of course my dear,” turning to her feigning care, “It was a terrifying and traumatic event. Abduction? At the hands of that madman? Surely a lessor person would have broken, survival unheard of,” no emotion on his face as he talks, as if he had not been part of it.
As if it was not his own wife. As if she had not undergone brutal torture.
Charlotte remained unmoving.
“It is fortunate we had Blackbeard Consultants on contract to secure our partnership with Red Flag. Ed to step forward to be the leader we need. We would not be where we are as a company today, surely none of us can deny that.”
He pauses looking to them both, “You won’t lose your stature as co-founder. No one denies you played your special role in the company history. To avoid detriment, it would be beneficial to the company and more importantly, my darling…yourself, for you to step down immediately. We will then immediately appoint a new CEO, someone who can lead us into the next era.”
Ed cannot believe what he is fucking hearing. Staring at this imposter who is showing no concern, no emotion, no love for his wife. He sees the movement out of the corner of his eye. Turning he sees her standing.
She looks strong, poised. Confident. In her he sees the strength he has admired since the day he met her, the piercing green gaze he fell for the moment he saw them in a photograph. The Charlotte Bonnet, CEO of BonaBon was now standing over them with judgement in her eye. Disdain on her face.
“Let me be very clear about one thing. I say this, not as your wife, but as the CEO of this company,” her voice commanding, loud. Sending chills down Ed’s spine, honestly doing all sorts of things for him that is so not the appropriate for the moment right now.
“We have Blackbeard here because of me, because I made the choice to bring them on. I am grateful Ed accepted that contract. BonaBon is what it is today because of my leadership, but also because of Edward Teach. First as a consultant, securing the Red Flag partnership, and now as COO, stepping in as my proxy during sabbatical and continuing as a dedicated partner. My gratitude to him cannot be put into words.”
Her words linger, but she doesn’t pause for long. She pushes forward, unyielding.
“I owe him so much, but let me make something very clear to you, Mr. Bonnet. While I appreciate your perspective as the CFO and your recommendation as my fellow co-founder,” both of her hands now planted on her desk as she is leaning forward.
Glancing over he can see Not-Stede leaning into his chair, there is a hint of fear and awe there. The intimidation is apparent.
“I will not be stepping down as CEO, that is final,” she stands there staring him down, “now if you do not mind, get out of my office and close the door.”
Without a word, he leaves quickly closing the door as she asked. As soon as the latch connects. She sinks into her chair, hands covering her face.
Ed rushes over to her, crashing to his knees. His bad knee flaring, a problem for later. He holds her closely her head on his shoulder.
“Fuck, that was the most badass thing I have seen in my entire life, I thought I was going to piss myself. I am pretty sure you made your husband piss himself.”
A weary sigh, heavy with the weight of the world. “I miss our Sun.”
“Me, too, Moon. Me, too.”
A few days later the shit hits the proverbial fan. What really lit the fuse, was when she was coming back from a meeting. She saw Rupert Hawthorn coming out of Stede’s office.
Charlotte’s heels clicked steadily down the corridor, the meeting’s minutes still circling in her head, when the sound of laughter carried from ahead. A sound she hadn’t heard in weeks. Stede’s laugh. A ghost of his laugh, like a warped version. Too polished, too smooth.
Rounding the corner slowing as she saw Rupert Blackthorn stepping into the corridor. The two of them shoulder to shoulder, their voices low and easy.
“Once things are settled,” Rupert was saying, his smile quick and sharp, “we can finalize terms. Even as interim, the optics are good, beneficial, really. The right move at the right time.”
Not-Stede’s chuckle followed, warm on the surface but hollow in her ears. “Yes, yes. We’ll talk again soon. Once it’s confirmed on our end, we can have it signed. Things are still precarious but it’s just a matter of time.”
Charlotte stopped just short of them, the words sinking cold into her gut. Interim. Signed. That fucking prick!
Neither man faltered when they saw her. If anything, Rupert’s smile widened, a mask of charm sliding into place. Not-Stede’s hand lingered at Rupert’s elbow as though seeing him off, his posture relaxed, utterly unbothered.
“Charlotte,” Rupert said smoothly, bowing his head just enough to be mocking. “What a delight, an absolute delight.”
Not-Stede’s smile mirrored his. “Darling. Back so soon? Rupert and I were just—”
“Talking business,” Rupert finished for him, his tone honeyed. “But always a pleasure to be interrupted by the true force of BonaBon. Certainly the prettiest.”
Their pleasantries rang false in her ears, every word lacquered with insincerity. Charlotte forced her own smile, sharp and thin, though her pulse thundered.
“Rupert, you’re too kind,” she said without any hint of emotion. Casting a glance at Not-Stede, setting her jaw as if she could not be bothered to entertain either of them.
“Looks as if I caught you on your way out,” her hands by her side her own mask firmly in place. Her full intention to give off the air that she has no time for petty games, “if you will excuse me, I have a conference call shortly I need to take.”
“Of course, wouldn’t dream of keeping you from your important work,” his sniveling voice called out, “lovely to see you.”
She kept her pace walking back to her office refusing to show them any sign she was at all affected by his presence or that she had heard their conversation.
Later that night, Not-Stede came to bed. The pretense of living a happily married life was weighing heavily. As the days were going by, she was starting to feel less sure.
Fortunately, she had managed to avoid certain marital aspects of life using excuses of headaches or pretending to be asleep. Kissing was one thing. The idea of Not-Stede touching her, making love to her. Made her skin crawl.
Irony of the origins of the marriage not lost on her, but she had never felt appalled by her husband. Quite the opposite. She was very attracted to him, sexually aroused even. The same could be said of him on the attraction level, she supposes. Just at the time, in the early days, not the aroused part.
Clearly, Not-Stede was the picture of Hetero Male.
He came to bed earlier than she was expecting; she had just settled into bed. Heading to his closet, she noticed he did not seem to remember the auxiliary wardrobe, which was peculiar. From there he went to the bathroom for his usual nighttime rituals. She was reading her book, the long abandoned Persuasion, that she was trying to find her way back into.
Slipping into bed next to her he lay back against the headboard. His breath next to her familiar, it pained her how much she was longing for her Stede. The words on the page were blurry as she could not focus. A shift in the bed was not unusual, she assumed he was settling in.
A warm hand on her thigh sent her stomach churning, the alarms blaring loudly in her mind. His weight shifting closer as he ran it up her leg, then she felt him closer kissing her shoulder. Closing her book slowly turning her head to him taking a deep breath to keep calm.
“What do you think you are doing,” her voice making it clear his attention was not wanted.
Hazel eyes that are not his hazel eyes any more went from lidded to angry as he was pulling away, his hand still on her thigh.
His tone sharp, angry even offended, “Making love to my fucking wife, one would think.”
“Is that right? What makes you think I want to have sex with you with the way you have treated me lately?”
She couldn’t do this, could not let it go. Because fuck Not-Stede, though not actually fuck him as it were, there was a boundary she was not willing to cross.
“You are my wife,” he said as if that alone was the reason, “as such you have certain duties to perform.”
“You are going to have to do better than that, Stede,” she said her voice low, not giving an inch on this.
Moving over her, reminding her of their first night at the penthouse, his face contorting in anger.
“Husbands and wives have sex together, I don’t see why you are having such a problem with that. Unless the issue is that you are fucking Israel Hands?” She felt his hand tightening on her thigh.
Staring him down, he was clearly under the impression there was an affair, sure she and Izzy are close. They have yet to explore that part of their relationship potential.
It’s a blurry line of affair if she and her Stede actually had a traditional monogamous marriage. But she was not about to let Not-Stede force himself on her or make wild accusations. Clearly, he had it in his mind that he as man of the house could get what he wants.
Keeping her breath calm where his was clearly heavy she took the risk, knowing that it could escalate matters but this could only go on for so long. He pressed into her more.
“If you weren’t so busy running off with our CSO, maybe we could manage to actually have a fucking heir,” he growled low.
Snapping her eyes to his, those words were like a punch to the gut. Wait, what did he just say?
Her Stede knows why they…can’t have children. But for him to say that to her, her suspicions are only more cemented about what is happening.
A glint in his eye, he saw his words got to her. Clearly he thinks its admission of an affair, when really it’s obvious there are certain secrets buried that this Stede cannot access. Which also means he may not be as compromised as they think.
She was not going to give him the satisfaction. Snapping her knee squarely into his groin catching him off guard, clearly causing pain, Howling he fell back. Clasping himself muttering a string of curses.
The bedroom door flying open as Jim came into the room knives in hand. Charlotte crawling off the bed waving them down watching Not-Stede rolling on the bed face red.
“What the fuck, Charlotte,” he yelled.
“Get out,” she said her voice icy.
His eyes wide staring at her still clutching himself, “Plenty of other rooms in this house, find another. I’ll have someone move your suits. Get the fuck out now!”
He left with little fight, limping as he went. Archie was not far behind Jim, since they had been curled up in bed with Jim. Archie, taking it upon herself to see that Not-Stede was securely in a room in another wing of the house.
Charlotte sank to the edge of the bed, no tears came. No matter how badly she wants them to. Jim had closed the door, only a few steps away but giving her space.
“Thought he could make a claim on his rights as a husband,” she says staring at her hands, “says we could have an heir if I wasn’t so busy fucking Izzy.”
“Pendejo de mierda, he fucking said that?” they hissed.
She only nodded, let the silence linger. Closing her eyes, feeling the sting hating that this only confirms her suspicions. Not remembering his relationship with Ed. The auxiliary wardrobes. Hiring a chef that was not roach for that awful dinner. Clearly not knowing a very important emotional piece of their life history.
All things in their life that are not on the surface. Meaning whoever is behind this is operating on surface layer information. All pointing toward an answer, but what?
Realization must have come to Jim, she hears them lightly curse beneath their breath.
The mattress shifts as they sit beside her, “Wait, why does he not remember or know about…you know?”
“Infertility? You can say it,” she feels Jim take her hand holding it between theirs as they lean into her shoulder.
“We need more evidence, but whatever is causing this alternative version of Stede. Whoever is tainting him, giving him these ideas. Orders, for some reason there are missing pieces of information.”
“We need to get Captain back, because this guy he is going to end up stabbed. If not by me,” their voice trails off sounding tired and frustrated.
“It would be either Israel or Edward,” Charlotte finishes.
“Mhmm, do you want me to stay tonight?” they offer nudging her affectionately.
“No, you can go crawl back into bed with Archie,” she gives Jim a teasing knowing smile then wiggles her eyebrows, “I had no idea you two were so smitten.”
Rolling their eyes they laugh, “She let me touch her boob.”
Charlotte laughed enjoying how it feels for a moment, “Just the one?”
“Obviously not,” they blush, “but yeah. Me and Olu, I guess we are like you and Cap.”
She hugs them tightly, “As long as you are happy, cielo.”
Late into the night, Izzy was up unable to sleep. Since Not-Stede’s arrival he had hardly been sleeping. Concerned about Edward, about Charlotte. What Not-Stede would eventually bring upon them. Not knowing what his intent is, other than from what Ed told him about his trying to convince Charlotte to step down. He felt like a storm may come at any time.
No moon tonight meant the house was even darker than usual. Most of the crew were avoiding the house lately. There was a different feeling, so different from the warmth here only months before.
Family.
The others like himself, he realized, all came from backgrounds where family was sparse or nonexistent. The Bonnets as eccentric, weird, and endearing as they are drawing in the most unusual people to become a family. They were growing on him, even Bonnet not that he would ever admit that out loud.
Last night, Ed found his way into his bed just needing another person to lay next to. Which was becoming more of a habit since he has lost his Bonnets, as he puts it.
He doesn’t mind, still can’t sleep. At least not stay asleep. Ed seems to be fine once he settles then Izzy can slip away. Of course, they had always been like this. Before the Bonnets.
They were close once but began drifting apart when Blackbeard became bigger. When Izzy let it consume him. When it became a toxic obsession.
He was debating going back to bed or going to the library; he was not too far from Charlotte’s room when he heard a piercing scream. Icy cold dread shot through him. On instinct he was running towards the sound. Towards her.
He bursts through the bedroom door to see Jim calming her. Charlotte still screaming, thrashing in bed, but clearly not awake. They wave him over directing him to go to her on the other side. He cannot hear them but knows they are speaking to her.
Pointing to the bed they nod waving him to get closer, he realizes Not-Stede is nowhere to be found. A relief. He crawls into the bed she is still upset not screaming as loud.
Sitting close almost propping himself next to her still keeping some distance. He reaches his hand out to soothe her then pauses unsure. He sees Jim nodding at him, so he lays it on her arm. Slowly begins to rub his thumb to soothe her.
“Just tell you are here, talk calmly. Reassuringly. She just needs that, don’t wake her,” he hears Jim but he can only focus on her.
Her face is pained, so much anguish. Her face is wet from tears. He positions himself to lay on his side beside her, propping himself on his elbow but still allowing himself to slowly rub his hand on her arm. Slow soothing strokes.
“My North, darling. I’m here,” he says quietly feeling his throat tighten. Swallowing he leans whispering into her ear, hoping she hears him.
“Sweetheart, you’re safe. I’m here. Your anchor. Always here, right here. Please love,” almost begging as he can feel the pain of seeing her like this only wanting to ease her of it.
He feels her relax, her breath still ragged.
“Good,” he hears Jim, it almost startles him forgetting they are there.
She grows still, her chest rising and falling in an even breath. Jim wiping away the tears from her face.
He continues to whisper softly, “Love, I won’t leave you. I’m here. Fuck, please I hope you know I am here.”
He chokes on those words. He feels a tap on his shoulder, looking up he sees Jim rising a look of sorrow, of affection in their eyes. They wave for him to follow them.
Slowly he, reluctantly he moves away toward the edge of the bed. Slipping off cautiously keeping an eye that she is still asleep he walks toward the back of the room.
“She used to sleepwalk,” they whisper knowing he will have questions their words heavy, “It was easier. Almost sweet. It was before the abduction. Only happened when she was stressed or drunk.”
Watching her sleep as if nothing had happened, Jim continued.
“I thought, the night terrors were over with. She only had them a few times after she came home from the hospital. Not every night, just here and there. Seemed like her sessions with the Psychiatrist were helping. They stopped, I can’t tell you the last time, but it was months ago. But this, mierda.”
Rubbing the palms of their hands into their eyes, clearly tired. Lowering their hands placing them on their hips, they considered telling Izzy about events tonight that were the likely trigger or just the basics. Fuck, this all could go sideways knowing how much he is in love with her even if the idiota won’t say it.
“Low may be dead, but he is still haunting her. Not-Stede, that fucker certainly…recent matters are not helping.”
“Night terrors? She was having fucking night terrors?” his eyes on Jim, anger rising at not having known.
He could feel the anger rising that this was being kept from him. A voice deep inside him, mocking him as if he had a right to know.
“Fuck, not even Captain knows about those,” they say in a low tone, “I promised her I wouldn’t say anything. She said she would talk to the psychiatrist. They got better. What was there to say?”
“How the fuck does her own husband not know she had fucking night terrors?” He could feel himself getting angrier, something inside him was about to snap.
“They didn’t share a room after for a while when she was out of the hospital if you recall, which was a first for them in like ever. When he is not on assignment, he’s surprisingly a heavy sleeper. It’s not an excuse. Clearly, she didn’t tell him. I promised not to.”
Izzy is still boiling. His feelings for Charlotte are getting deeper, he knows he’s falling hard. Fallen hard. He also feels like he doesn’t deserve her.
He knows his anger can get the better of him, and on a good day he sometimes wants to punch Bonnet’s face in. The current Not-Bonnet situation is certainly not helping matters.
“Not his fault. She didn’t want to make things worse,” Jim says as if they're are on to his train of thought.
“What does that fucking mean?”
Jim eyeing him, “you don’t know, do you.”
“Know what?” He looks at them feeling lost, like there is a conversation he should remember.
“Calypso, dame fuerzas. Low sent a package by courier not long before we got her back, it was a tape. Taunted him, said it was a special tape just for him. Thing is, with Low it could have been more information on how to get her back. Or, well,” they took a moment, collecting themselves.
Each word felt pained and heavy as they began to explain what the video contained.
“The sadistic bastard…he called it a recital. It was footage of Low torturing Charlotte. Every hit, cut, burn, break, and whip. Captain watched the whole thing for any clue of where he was keeping her or who he might be working for before he sent it to MI5 for analysis.”
Izzy didn’t know what to say staring at Jim in disbelief. He knew damn well he would have done the same.
“Low is a vile sadist, but he is also a total narcissist who likes to hear himself talk. Monologuing through the whole thing. He wasn’t wrong, Captain was able to write a report noting details that even the MI5 analysts missed. Zheng is out following up on them as we speak.”
Izzy felt the bile rising in his throat. Remembering what she looked like when she showed up that night. Lying in the arms of the mercenary.
Cleaning her wounds, trying to stabilize her as Jim drive them to the hospital. Trying to keep her awake while she was going into shock.
It haunts dreams. He has nightmares about it. He knows Edward does, too.
He couldn’t imagine watching it happen. Part of him, wishes he could have at least been able to help bear part of that burden. To better understand so maybe he could help her better, even now.
As if sensing where his thoughts had led him Jim lay a hand on his shoulder.
“The best way we can help her, is by being here. Talking with her. Encouraging her, especially about talking to that physiatrist. I think it is helping. Captain…this whole Not-Stede nightmare, we are going to figure it out. Get him back, for all our sakes and his.”
He says nothing he knows how close Charlotte and Bonnet, are in love.
He envies it, wonders what it would be like to have Charlotte Bonnet in love with him. There are times he feels the jealousy of their relationship.
It’s his own issue to confront because he knows, knew as soon as he made the decision that night to go with Stede to the hotel. He chose this. Has been choosing this. Fuck, he misses fucking Bonnet.
“Not-Stede is staying in another wing of the house,” they say calmly but not saying more which gets his attention. Narrowing his eyes not sure why they are telling him this, other than to explain why the prat isn’t here?
Rolling their eyes dropping their hand, “I am going to lock that door,” they say slowly, “you are going to crawl into that bed with her. Make sure she doesn’t have another night terror. Hopefully, you two can actually get a good nights sleep.”
He can only stare at them as they walk toward the bedroom door. Their words still processing in his brain, they look at him as they slip between door and doorframe about to lock it giving him a pointed look.
“Seriously, go. I would also like a good nights sleep with one of my persons,” they say with a smile before shutting the locked door.
He stares at the bed. She is sleeping soundly, he can see the soft rise and fall of her chest in the gleam of light that comes a soft backlighting.
Taking off his robe, laying it across a chair he walks toward the empty side of the bed. He debates just sleeping on the chaise or a chair in the room. Of course, he knows if he does she will give him hell in the morning.
Raising the blanket he slowly slides in beside her. Settling down, laying his head on the pillow adjusting the covers he feels his heart beating hard. Closing his eyes cursing himself for acting like a fucking teenager, he is a grown man for christ’ sake. It's not like he hasn’t slept next to her before, usually Edward is with them.
Movement next to him causes him to hold his breath, not moving he shifts his eyes. She has rolled over facing him, her eyes open watching him a smile on her lips.
“Hello my anchor,” she says breathily, “I was just dreaming of you.”
A warm hand finds his, smaller fingers threaded perfectly with his. Turning his head he smiles, “Were you?”
She only shakes her head against her pillow her smile fades as her brow knits, “Did I have one of my bad nightmares?”
Rolling towards her, as if on instinct, reaching his free hand to caress her cheek. He can see her worry, clear concern she was the cause of any discomfort or burden. He feels a need to ease it all away deep in his soul.
“Yes, love. Jim and I were here,” he says quietly, “they went back to their room.”
Shifting up she moves closer to him, he moves his arm on the bed for her to lay her head on as he wraps the other around across her back. She curls into his chest.
She says sleepily her voice vulnerable in a way he has never heard her before, “Please don’t leave.”
Tears prickling at the edge of his eyes, he kisses the top of her head as he hugs her tightly, “Never, love.”
Chapter 23
Summary:
Ed is about to confront Not-Stede, he's getting tired of his continued rhetoric of replacing Charlotte as CEO even if he has not dared to say it directly to her face or to him since the ordeal in her office two weeks ago.
What he does not expect is over hearing a very peculiar call. Now Ed is freaking out, is Not-Stede a robot? Nah, pfffft that's dumb.
He may find out when Not-Stede comes to his office later. Things do not go as planned, Ed is now on edge. There is a lingering question of "does Izzy regularly carry restraints on his person?"
Notes:
This chapter, I think it's one where I laughed to myself quite a lot writing it because as you read it's a scenario that just feels absurd. It felt right that Ed would kind of be all over the place.
It's a critical chapter as we are dealing with Not-Stede. But also, a nice bit of comedic relief.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Almost two weeks after the incident in Charlotte’s office, Ed was outside of Stede’s door. He was psyching himself to go inside. The other day in her office was not the last time he heard the replacing her as CEO talk, mostly he heard it from him on the phone with some of his new buddies.
Luckily, he had not been spreading discord at the company. People here had a fondness for Charlotte. Everyone was already uneasy around Not-Stede not sure what to do with the opposite version of the usually sunny cheerful and kind CFO.
Just as he was about to barge in to have it out with Not-Stede he heard his phone ring. His door was slightly open, he heard Not-Stede answered it, a weird noise screeching over the receiver then Not-Stede said in a monotone voice, “Host enabled, ready for instructions. Initiate.”
Pressing closer, he heard what sounded like a series of clicking. Then the same monotone voice, “Message successfully downloaded. Host will activate when call complete.” Which was followed by another piercing sound.
What the fuck. What the actual fuck! Wait, is he a robot? No, that’s dumb.
Backing away toward his office, he had to think of something. He really still wants to confront him. Even about them. He’s thought about just kissing him, being super direct. Ed has tried many times to come on to him and was met with odd looks. Clearly, this Stede is super hetero. Which is another layer of weird. But this.
Fuckity, fuck, fuck. He has to tell Charlotte. Looking around the corridor he quietly rushes to his own office closing the door. He is pacing trying to figure out what to do, how to even begin to tell her what he heard when there is a knock.
His head snapping towards at the doors as if at any moment it would burst open he freezes. His heart racing like he just got caught doing something wrong. Wait, this is his office. Calm down, normal. He breathes out, running his hands down the front of his chest squaring his shoulders. Fucking picture of calm and confidence.
Walking to his desk he sits in his chair as if this is where he has been sat for hours, “Come in.”
Stede peeks is head in the door, “Have a minute?”
“For you, of course,” he offers a friendly smile. He hopes it is friendly smile, shit. Maybe it’s not, maybe it’s weird. Fuck what if he is smiling at him with his lower teeth? That would be weird. No, he is spiraling.
“I want to apologize about the other day in Charlotte’s office,” Not-Stede says as he undoes a couple of buttons of his suit jacket taking a seat in the chair across from him, “could have planned that better. It’s a delicate situation.”
Ed only nods, he has so much to say about this. But should he risk upsetting, Not-Stede? Robot-Stede? He might not be a robot. But he could totally be a robot. Would explain it, definitely could be a robot. Hetero Robot-Stede who wears bad suits and doesn’t even smell right. Hair is weird, too.
“It is, that definitely was a disaster,” he offered not really knowing what else to say.
“Yes, well. My wife is stubborn. It’s my fault, I spoiled her. Indulging her little flights of fancy, if you will. At this point, letting her continue to play at this business of being CEO is going to risk so much for us, for the company.”
Not-Stede shifts in his chair crossing his legs, he waves a hand to Ed as he is attempting to appeal to him, “I hope you can see that. You’re a reasonable man. I mean, you are Blackbeard after all. I think surely you can see sense. That we need to have someone else in power, a man at the head of the company.”
That did it, see he was willing to just let this be an easy passive conversation. Slowly rising from his chair, coming around his desk walking toward Not-Stede eyeing him feeling the anger rise. His heartbeat pounding in his ear, not having heard his office door open only moments ago.
“See, mate. The thing is,” his voice low dangerous the Blackbeard mask slipping into place.
“Your wife. Charlotte Bonnet, CEO of this company is one of the smartest most amazing women I have ever met and have had the honor of working alongside. What you said the other day and just fucking now…you are lucky I don’t fucking knock you out on your fucking flat ass right now.”
Not-Stede’s brows rose nearly to his hairline, standing from his chair staring Ed down, “I beg your pardon?”
“You heard me loud and fucking clear, mate,” he growls standing taller stepping closer to him.
“Honestly, you’re real fucking lucky Israel Hands or Jim were not here to listen to you talk about her that way. I should have Izzy come in hear and kick your ass for talking about her the way you have. But I am afraid he would murder you, I really don’t want to have to hide another body,” he pokes a finger into Not-Stede’s chest with the last three words for emphasis.
“Charlotte, is the best damn CEO I have ever met. If you say one more word against her,” now leaning further into his space, “I’ll fucking end you myself.”
Stede sneers puffing his chest not backing down, “If you think I am going to give into threats from a thug like you because you choose to overlook that she is no longer fit to be CEO, well we may need to rethink your position at—”
Not-Stede did not finish his those words, because Blackbeard saw red punching him in straight into his face. Stumbling back from the force No-Stede clutches his nose staring in shock at him.
Ed had two thoughts in his head at that moment when Blackbeard took over.
First thought, this is not the love of my life.
Second thought, Not-Stede just happens to look like him.
Well, there was a third thought shortly after, definitely not a robot unless they feel fleshy.
“I think you broke my fucking nose,” Not-Stede said clasping at his face, “Did you mean to do that, Ed?”
His question is answered by an angry voice from behind as Not-Stede reels around meeting the eyes of an extremely angry Israel Hands. Ed has never heard him sound as angry, or deadly.
“Oh Bonnet, I think he meant to knock your sorry fucking ass out. But it will be my absolute fucking pleasure to have that honor,” he says before the hits him square in the jaw.
Not-Stede’s face twisting as the momentum thrust him backward landing him square on his back. The force knocking Not-Stede out cold, Izzy leans down to check him.
“Still alive,” he grumbles as he moves his head to the side he notices an odd little scar, “Edward, look at this, have you seen this before?”
Ed looks down, the scar looks fresh like it is newly healed, “No.”
They look at each other realizing this may be something related to him being Not-Stede.
“I’ll restrain him. You get Lottie,” Izzy says.
“Yep, right,” dashing to the door. He pauses suddenly, holding the door leaning to look back at Izzy who is already dragging Not-Stede’s unconscious body to a chair, “where the fuck are you gonna get restraints?”
Rolling his eyes his says in a huff, “Fucking go.”
Charlotte was on a call with a client when a very frazzled Edward came slipping into her office. He promptly shut her door, but was peeking out as he shut it. Looking almost paranoid. He saw she was on the phone so he just stood wringing his hands. One looking slightly reddened.
“Of course, Mr. Lewellyn, we would be more than happy to send—,” she paused listening, “Yes, I’d be glad to send a team out to tour your facilities. Seeing your operations firsthand is how we tailor our work.”
Her eyes following him as he is pacing nervously.
“I’ll have our Director of Operations, Kevin Fang reach out to your people to coordinate.”
Now he was simply dancing around from foot to foot, Ed is naturally fidgety, but this is abnormal. She gave him an odd look her eyes following him as she was trying to focus on ending the call.
“Absolutely. Great hearing from you, as well. I will tell him, absolutely. Give Abigail our love.”
Nearly as soon as the phone was on the hook, he rushing her desk. Speaking quickly like he was out of breath.
“We have a tiny problem and maybe not a problem? I need you to come to my office but super calm and act normal,” his voice almost a whisper.
“You’re acting very odd. Why are we whispering?” she was staring up at him but he was not looking any less out of sorts almost more so, “Ed, what do you mean a problem that’s maybe not a problem?” She says blinking trying to wrap her head around his cryptic message.
He doesn't answer. He keeps looking back at the office door nervously.
“What is going on?” She says reaching out across the desk offering her hand to him. Looking down staring at the offered hand he nervously chews his bottom lip. She looks at him expectantly then withdraws her hand.
He fidgets with the end of his suit jacket mumbling, “Izzy kinda punched Stede in the face knocking him out cold for insulting you but I hit him first.”
Staring at him in disbelief, “wait he did what?”
“Izzy punched Stede in the face knocking him out cold for insulting you,” he almost yelled, “knocked him out cold flat on his ass. I kind of helped, well…I hit him first, actually.”
Her eyes widening staring at him in disbelief. Suddenly, she burst into laughter doubling over holding her stomach.
Ed stared at her with disbelief that quickly turned into anger, “What the fuck! This isn’t funny, why are you fucking laughing?”
“I-I’m sorry,” she was gasping between laughs, “Izzy knocked him out cold?”
“Fucking yes! And Izzy has him in my office tied up to a chair,” he growled now rather angry.
Of course, it only made her laugh harder, “W-with what? Do you keep restraints in your office?” Smothering her mouth with both hands seeing he is clearly upset. It was no use, he could see the amusement in her eyes as her hands slipped down slightly. He gave her a stern look an unspoken don’t you dare.
Another rush laugher filled words. “Wait, he doesn’t carry restraints with him regularly, like on his person?”
Ed throws his hands up now done with her shit, “Fuck, probably. Figured if anyone would know it would be you.”
“Of fuck off,” she giggles walking over to him taking the hand he used to punch Not-Stede into hers running her fingers over his knuckle, “I’m sorry, why tie him up?”
Looking at her when he suddenly remembered why he came to tell her. “Oh shit, I almost forgot. Izzy saw a small scar behind his left ear when checking his pulse. It looks new, and it’s definitely not—,” his voice dips then mumbles, “because he might be a robot.”
“I’m not even going to ask, just show me,” pulling him toward the door.
Lucius was thankfully not at his desk. Not-Stede may have forced him to wear a suit, but he could not change his little daily routine of ‘making out’ with Pete or Fang in random places in the office. Or regular rotation of gossip. Lucius thrives in structure, when it’s on his own terms.
A short walk found them standing in Ed’s office staring at an unconscious bound Not-Stede. Tied to a chair, his hands bound behind the back of the chair with his tie. Feet bound with his and Izzy’s belt. Mouth gagged using Izzy’s tie.
“Don’t say a fucking word about restraints,” Ed hissed eyeing her, clearing seeing the amusement rising as she surveyed the scene.
Izzy gave them both an odd look, “the fuck are you two—fuck, I don’t care. Lottie, look at his neck.”
Walking to join him at Not-Stede’s left side, Izzy brushes back his hair. She sees the small scar, it’s oddly u-shaped. Looks fresh, too fresh. No bruising. Or signs of other injury.
“I heard a weird call he took before he came into my office.” That got their attention, both looking up at him at the same time.
“What do you mean?” she asks, “on the phone in his office?”
“Yeah, there was a loud shrill sound after his voice sounded funny said that the host is ready for a message,” he takes a moment trying to remember.
“Oh, and clicking sounds before he said in the same weird voice ‘message received’ and ‘initiated.’ Ended with the same shrill sound.”
“Are you fucking drunk?” Izzy barked looking at Ed like he lost his damned mind.
“What!? Fuck off, Iz. That’s what I heard, I thought he might be like a Robot,” clearly frustrated as he flopped onto his sofa. Glaring at Izzy like an crossing his arms.
“A fucking robot? Do you hear yourself?” Izzy growing more irate running a hand through his hair.
Putting her hand on his shoulder, “We can pull the recordings from his phone line. And from the phone lines at the house. I have a theory but I can’t be sure.”
Both of them are looking at her now clearly wanting answers.
“So, not a Robot?” he says quietly, hopeful.
“I swear to god, Edward. You are driving me absolutely mad. You’re going to be the one out cold next,” Izzy growls, several stands of his hair falling into his face.
“Sounds stressful Iz. Got extra restraints to strap me to another chair?” he says tauntingly pushing his friend’s buttons to get more of a rise.
Clearly about to launch himself at Edward, she steps closer to him sliding her hand from his shoulder to his chest, “please love,” turning his head he met her eye.
A deflating sigh of resignation as he places his hand on hers.
“We need Jim,” she says calmly, “would you find them and bring them here, please, love?”
Giving her a nod, smoothing his hair back before casting one more angry look and flipping his finger at Ed who is looking far too amused with himself, he storms out of the room to his office.
“Do you really have to rile him up?” She says giving Ed a slightly annoyed look.
He smiles up at her with a cheesy grin, “He loves it, besides this is a shit situation. Doesn’t hurt to have a bit of a distraction.”
Movement catches their attention, as Not-Stede’s head is bobbing. Muffled moaning as he is slowly rousing.
His head slowing rising his eyes opening, looking around seeing them both. Shaking his arms he realizes he’s bound, angrily mumbles giving them each a threatening look.
Charlotte comes closer to him leaning close, “I’m afraid we aren’t going to be able to untie you, darling.”
His face reddening in anger, a muffled yell may be a ‘what’ and possibly her name. Then more struggling.
Her lips brushing his ear, “Izzy is ever so good with restraints, isn’t he? Really knows how to make them tight. It’s one of his many talents.”
She punctuates and draws the words out seductively, purposely intoning another meaning before pulling back winking.
He glares at her angrily. She joins Ed on the sofa sitting close to him as they wait for Jim and Izzy to turn.
About ten minutes later, Izzy walks through the door says nothing, only frowning at Ed whose arm is around Charlotte’s shoulder.
Jim walks in behind him stopping in their tracks as they take in the scene before them.
They stare at Not-Stede restrained in the chair then to Charlotte, “So, I guess it’s safe to say things escalated?”
Stede glaring angrily at the two of them ignoring the new arrivals. He had long given up on trying to get out of the restraints.
“Ed punched him then I knocked him out. I’d say it fucking escalated,” he finally offered leaning against the desk.
“You’d probably have murdered him if you heard what he said about Char first hand. So don’t fucking be a dick about it.”
Izzy snarled, “Oh, I fucking heard enough of what that Ponce said. Mark my words, the only reason he is breathing right now is because he ain’t our fucking Bonnet but it’s his body! I will be damned if we mess up getting our Bonnet back.”
Both Jim and Ed stared at Izzy like he had grown another head. It was not the answer any of them expected.
It was not lost on her that even Izzy was missing Stede. Not our Bonnet, no matter their relationship they still had one. He clearly cares.
Rising from the sofa pointing between Ed and Izzy, “Right you two, I’m about to send you off to a corner or a timeout if you can’t stop fighting!”
“Jim take a look behind his left ear,” then pointing at Jim directing her hand toward a fuming Not-Stede.
They nod slowly still giving Izzy a puzzled look as they walk toward Not-Stede. As they approach his left, he squirms away as they bent near. Jim ignoring him, pushes his hair back, “Huh, yeah. That’s fresh. Isolated.”
“Ed said he overheard a call on his main line. We need Olu to pull calls since he’s been back. His office and the house.”
“Ill make the call, may take time to do a full analysis,” they turn to Ed, “when was the call you overheard?”
“Earlier today, before he came into my office. So, within the last couple of hours?” he was trying to guess. A lot has happened between now and then.
“We can isolate that call at least, give us an idea of what it was and what to look out for,” they say as they walk to Ed’s phone.
“Good point, send it to our team to analyse. Maybe have Olu talk with Ed, get a report on what it was he heard to have in writing,” Charlotte added.
Jim pauses from dialing holding the receiver, “Level X assignment given the location? I assume we need to relocate him there.”
Without thinking about who else is in the room she nodded. “Yes, we need to move him there. Maybe have a team come down. Call Agent Garland to order sedation, scans. Anything else she thinks. I have a theory,” she sighs, “I have to call the Director, report—”
Ed’s voice breaks her train of thought, “What’s Level X?”
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Closing her eyes taking a breath.
Fuck. She forgot they were here. How is she getting this sloppy?
Jim is staring at her, they’re on the call now. It’s a knowing look, she glares at them. They shrug fully knowing what they had done. They know better. She gives them a pointed look.
They, like her, know the Director wants to recruit Ed and Izzy. Not just because of when Stede revealing their identities while she was a captive.
It was because of their backgrounds, as well. It’s been mentioned over the last several months, often directly and indirectly to her.
She hates it, avoids the conversation because she hates Stede is even active status. While she may be a hypocrite for having taken on so many assignments over the years. It was a false sense of protecting the people she loves.
“Top secret MI5 black site,” her tone flat no emotion still not looking at them.
Jim flashing her a look as they were giving orders over the phone, a look that said it’s their choice.
No going back now. Gritting her teeth. “You aren’t supposed to know about. Now—”
“Now what?” Izzy cautiously clearly aware of the shift in her demeanor.
“You can’t unknow about it. I either you pretend you never heard of it and so do you, Or—” she crosses her arms pulling them tight across her chest, feeling the gravity of the consequences.
Leaning forward, she cannot face them right now. Feeling angry with herself for continuing to put them in this situation. It’s not like they’re normal MI5 agents. It would almost be better if their lives were more bureaucratic. Jim would hate it, but it would be safer.
She feels familiar strong arms slowly sliding around hers, the heat of his a chest pressing against her back as she is hugged tightly. His hands wrapping around her upper arms. She grasps his arms with her hand holding him close.
His low raspy voice close, “Or we join, recruited. Is that it?”
She shakes her head, “Not just. There is a third outcome. Prison but most likely they make you disappear. Like you never existed, I would never see you again.”
An almost silent rumble in his throat, like a growl maybe it’s more choking at the idea of being separated from one another. She feels him nuzzling into her neck, his lips on her skin. An assurance.
“It’s our choice, maybe I want to join. You risk enough. If this is how I stay by you, then I choose you. Choose MI5.”
Anguish is not how this should feel, like its servitude or death. Part of her feels the deeper bloom of an emotion she not prepared to face right now.
They’re both jolted forward as another pair of arms wraps around them with some force. Long black silver streaked hair falling over part of her face as Izzy softly yet affectionately curses.
“Iz is right. It’s our choice. If being with you. With our Stede, means joining MI5. Well, I guess they’re gaining a Blackbeard and Basilica.”
Their weirdly tender moment is broken by a receiver being placed on the hook louder than necessary.
“As touching as this is. We should probably get him to Level X before Lucius or someone else walks in seeing Stede restrained to a chair and you three in a weird group hug,” Jim says sharply.
Ed giggles earning him a glare from Jim.
The first introduction to Level X is by way of the secret entrance from Ed’s office. Which has absolutely thrilled him incessantly. Izzy and Jim adjust the restraints so they can move Not-Stede easily.
While the team has Not-Stede sedated in the examination area undergoing scans. Jim is giving Izzy and Ed the tour of the Level X facilities leaving Charlotte to report to the Director.
After giving him a detailed briefing since her last update, information about the call that was overheard by Mr. Teach. Thankfully, since they could narrow down a timetable, Olu was able to find the recording.
“Our analysts say it is a coded message, they are calling it a trigger call. Our guess is they come on a regular basis with instructions. But we won’t know more until they finish analyzing the call records and recordings. Agent Garland is currently scanning and assessing the u-shaped scare discovered.” she explains over the line.
There was silence, her stomach in knots. This could mean he is compromised, but they have no proof yet.
“This scar was detected after Mr. Hands and Mr. Teach both,” there was a pause, “and I quote ‘punched him.’ Mr. Hands was the one to have rendered him unconscious.”
“That is correct, sir. He was then bound once the scar was discovered, as they both were very aware he was not acting in his usual manner. As you know, they are aware of his…our status as Agents,” she was trying to avoid the conversation about recruitment but knew deep down it was going to be futile.
“M’yes, Agent Stuart. We are fully aware. We will be coming back to that,” he made an emphasis on that last part, “the events of today are related to recent conversations of you stepping down as CEO?”
“Correct Sir, we believe the intent is to replace me, we suspect with one Rupert Hawthorne.”
“I’ll have the team here run a search on his background, known associates, and other affiliations. But I have a feeling that his invitation to dinner, this change in Agent Bonnet’s personality, and one would say aggressive campaign for you to step down might be related.”
“That is also my theory. I also believe, that this may be some form of mind control. The pieces are fitting into place, once we have Agent Garland’s report I am confident it will back up my theory.”
He’s quiet, “Send me a report on what you discover. Hold off on protocols for the moment until you have more information. If you find that removal is an option, I suggest doing so.”
“Yes sir,” she is hesitant to feel relief in that order.
“If he shows signs of returning to his former composure. You will need to determine what he remembers, we need to know how compromised Agent Bonnet was in this matter. It’s apparent they are aware of his status as an Agent. I will be forthright with you, our main concern is his identity as The Gentleman. As is the identity of any known associates of his of our program.”
“Understood, sir,” not nearly as bad a scenario as it could have been, she very much hopes they had no idea he is part of MI5 whatsoever. Which would give them more of an upper hand.
“Now, for the matter of one Blackbeard aka Edward Teach and one Basilica aka Israel Hands?”
Silence, her stomach drops.
“Don’t think we are unaware of how inter-tangled they have become, I am not speaking of your personal lives Agent Stuart. I am aware of their presence on recovery day. As well, as their involvement beyond. They are both very capable men, with impressive backgrounds.”
“Yes sir, I was made aware. Considering my state. I’ve read their files and have recently become familiar with their backgrounds,” which is true. She knew some about Ed’s background. It was Israel’s that surprised her the most.
“You are fully aware the options at hand. As liabilities there are only two options, I suspect that you would and they would like to avoid the extreme outcome?” Jenkins has known them for a longtime, would even consider both of the Bonnets as friends. But his role as the head of their operation, of their programs, and as their Director he has a duty to uphold.
“Yes,” she clenches her teeth fighting back any emotion, “sir,” her blood runs cold, she knew this was dangerous territory.
“Let me be very clear, I expect to see you, Mr. Teach, and Mr. Hands standing before me here at Home Office in three days. Otherwise, we will have no choice.”
“Understood.” The line goes dead.
A knock on the door gives her brief solace, “Enter.”
Agent Garland, head of Level X’s medical and science arm entered the office with files and large envelopes holding imagery of scans in their arms. Shorter than Charlotte, her red hair cropped close around her ears, feathered at the sides and lightly parted.
An assuming figure but one of the smartest people Charlotte has ever worked with. Trudy Garland recruited as a former trauma surgeon with a background in neurology. They’d met years ago at home office during one of her assignments. When Level X was launched, Trudy volunteered immediately.
“We found something, but you probably had a feeling we might,” Garland mused as she lay her files on the desk, sifting through the images.
Lifting one envelope pulling a transparent image from writing, she motions for Charlotte to come closer. She holds it toward the light.
A scan showing the back part of a head, neck with clear outlines of the brain, stem, and spine. She points to a foreign spot near the back of the brain, close to the spine. Charlotte is squatting down, her head by Trudy’s.
“That right there,” she says calmly, “is likely the culprit for Agent Bonnet’s new personality and bad fashion choices.”
Charlotte bites back a laugh, “what do you think it is?”
“A chip. I have a theory, but without removing it and more information,” she lowers the scan stepping back, “it’s just that.”
“I have a feeling we have the same theory. Olu was able to isolate a call from earlier, a trigger sequence. I have not ready the full analysis of what the message was yet.”
“Someone, somewhere has successfully created the technology for mind control,” Trudey says with a sense of wonder.
“We both know what conditioning can do. But that, well it takes time. If they did this while Agent Bonnet was on mission. It makes sense to use something small like this, regular calls. Series of frequencies I would assume.”
“I don’t disagree. What do you recommend?”
“Removal. So we can run tests on it, when we get confirmation of the phone recordings, we will have more evidence.”
“The Director recommends removal should we find anything, if it was possible. And Stede?”
Sighing Trudy leans against the desk, “I can’t promise he’ll be your Stede, the one you knew. Hell, the one we knew. God, I am so glad I did not meet this version from what I heard. I saw the suit, yikes! We don’t know how permanent this will be, the side effects. Or—“
“Survive the removal,” Charlotte says almost a whisper.
“Mhm, I’m sorry. But you know it comes out one way or another,” she says sympathetically, “right now, he’s not deemed as compromised. Not yet, we both know the longer it’s inserted the more likely they’ll give the order.”
“Do it,” she says flatly, she knows now what the definition of compromised is in the situation.
A hand on her arm, she looks at Trudy, “I’ll do my best to make sure we return him to you, I just—”
“I know, I’ll take the version of him I can get alive and free,” she nods.
Notes:
Call out there is one line "smiling at him with his lower teeth?" that I just had to add in because on TikTok I keep seeing videos where people are calling out a line of someone smiling with their lower teeth. It's gets me every time to just imagine what that would even look like. So, it just felt so perfect to add in.
Adding to my long list of favorite lines from this.
Chapter 24
Summary:
Flashback - Stede was on assignment undercover in Rotterdam as one Jonathon Penn, a polished trade consultant. His mission is to get close to his target Albert Devereux over the next several weeks.
The mission is going well, these types of assignments take a certain kind of suave social interactions and making yourself endearing enough the target finds you intriguing enough to bring you in to their fold. All is going well, until Stede wakes up missing several days.
From there, while the mission is still on target going well, there are unexplainable things happening to him. Is he losing his mind?
Notes:
Double chapter day - a flashback to that mission Stede was on for weeks where he was late making a check in call.
Chapter Text
Late May to just the end of June 1972
Heading to the meeting point in London he found the package with the dossier and the documents for his new identity for his mission. Opening the passport he saw his photo alongside the name Jonathan Penn. Scrunching his nose placing the passport and other items in the inside pocket of London Fog trench coat, not the worst alias.
He leaves in the morning from Heathrow, flying out to Rotterdam. Reading through the dossier, Jonathan Penn, a polished trade consultant with a paper trail deep enough to pass inspection.
Scanning the mission details, what they could give him now he is to infiltrate the circle of a suspected arms broker operating through Rotterdam.
One Albert Devereux whose business dinners and trade fair handshakes masked the flow of weapons into volatile markets.
Stede’s strength had always been in reading a room in these settings, drawing out confidences over drinks and small talk. Secretly, his power is passive aggression, but it’s always an important skill in these circles.
His instructions were clear and direct. Cultivate the target, gain his trust, collect information.
He has a schedule of planned check ins with HQ to call in on a secure line with coded phrases, four scheduled calls in total since he is going deep undercover. More of a security layer to make sure his cover is not blown, and the mission is on track.
If all went well, he would come home with a map of names, cargo routes, and contacts that SIS and MI5 could act on. More importantly, he thinks back home.
For this mission, he had packed some of his more basic suits. Mostly dark blues, tans, and creams along with evening wear. And some leisure wear for the season. Hard to know what kind of events one may be invited to, worst-case scenario he would just have to pop into a shop.
Of course, he loves shopping for clothes not a major sacrifice. But Jonathon Penn does not quite have the flair of Stede Bonnet, but not so dull as someone like his father.
The first night in Rotterdam is uneventful, he checks into his hotel. It’s a spacious suite, he swept the room checking for any listening devices. Set up a secure line making sure to conceal it securely from housekeeping or prying eyes.
Pouring himself a brandy from the bar, he walks out to the balcony overlooking the city. Leaning against the railing, his other hand in his pocket. The night air blowing through his hair, his curls untamed as he had left them a little wild today. Knowing he will style his hair tomorrow to really slip into his cover.
Sipping it slowly there is a pang in his heart, assignments like this are the hardest. Deep undercover means no calls home. Even as tempting as it is to use the secure line. He knows better. She does, too. Benefit of being married to another agent he supposes.
He muses about the merits of being The Gentleman as opposed to missions like this as he takes another sip. Being The Gentleman, it feels more like himself. A big freer, fewer restrictions. As if they just take away all the rules and boundaries saying, have at it do what you do best.
What he does best? He savors the brandy on his tongue as he thinks about that more. A slight smirk when he really thinks about it, he gets under people’s skin. It’s why they send him on these assignments. Charlotte is good at interrogation, but her skills lean toward intimidation and physical techniques.
Him? He uses his PhD that he never talks about in Criminology. Partly because he doesn’t want to be called Dr. Bonnet but also, in his daily life he uses his other degree. It’s more important.
As The Gentleman, he breaks them down psychologically, gets into their psyche. Poison into positivity is his preference, but in this line of work. Well, he has certainly driven men to some extremes just by simply having a conversation.
There is something to the whispers that if you meet The Gentleman the Siren and Muerte soon follow. It’s almost a balance between them.
There is no moon tonight, despite the lights of the city he can see a few stars. His mind drifts to starlight, warm brown eyes. He smiles warmly; he misses Edward. He feels the regret for not telling him before he left, but he is almost thankful he left it for when he comes home.
Turning back to the room, leaning against the rail he finishes his brandy as he stares to where the hidden phone is for the secure line. The rising temptation to make a quick call, just to hear his low timber voice once more.
Shaking his head, he knocks back the brandy then goes back into the room. No, he needs to finish this mission so he can see him in person, tell him how he feels.
As Penn, he quickly becomes a fixture at late-night receptions and business luncheons, drifting through rooms of port officials, freight managers, and embassy attachés. Albert takes a liking to him, inviting him to have cigars and brandy at the Gentleman’s club he is a member. Eager to introduce him to his ‘friends.’
The first checkpoint went smoothly. He makes the call from his secure line; he gave the phrase. The reply came back correct. London marks him green. He presses on.
Making notes, memorizing faces and names, and cultivating the trust of men who pride themselves on discretion.
One contact in particular seems invaluable. He receives a dossier about another agent, an embedded informant with access to manifests who is another point of contact for him. They can get access to information about which warehouses to watch, even slipping Stede an envelope of half-legible invoices.
Providing Stede enough of a lead when he gains access to Albert’s office, checking files and records. Using his Minox B, he snapped several photos of the various files and manifests he was looking for. For a week, Stede grew closer to his informant, a fellow agent.
He had another meeting with his informant a few hours before his second scheduled check in. He had plenty of time, knowing he would be back well before he had to make the call.
A quiet café thick with smoke. The informant greeted him warmly, pressing a glass of wine into his hand having already ordered. Their conversation friendly, discussing names and upcoming events for the targets. Stede sipping his wine, listening, when the edges of the room began to tilt.
His cigarette slid from his fingers. A steady hand caught his arm, guiding him up the stairs. No one the wiser, no one paying attention. Darkness swallowed everything.
Drifting in and out. Cold lights. The sting of antiseptic. Voices flattening into echoes. He thought he felt restraints, tasted copper at the back of his throat. A pinch at his neck.
A sterile lab shimmered in fragments, but nothing held together long enough to understand. Each time he tried to surface, the world snapped shut again.
When he finally woke properly, it was in his hotel room. His coat hung neatly, suitcase buckled, notes untouched. Everything as he had left it. His suit rumpled. His body aching and his throat burning.
He slowly stood, walking to look at the clock. The time felt wrong. Calling down to the desk, asking them what the date was getting a confused answer.
His eyes widening nearly dropping the phone. Thanking them as he hung up quickly. Three days gone. Panic surging he had missed his check-in for the first time in his career.
Scrambling for the hidden phone connected to the secure line, delivering his code in a rasp each word burning his mouth cotton, and mumbling about travel delays and giving his update. The voice in London accepted, clipped and cool. He was marked late, but the mission continued.
Pushing back into the cover shaking off the time loss to figure out at a later date he had to focus. His social calendar was filling with attending more receptions, shadowing the target as Albert decided that Penn was his newest dearest friend.
More like fascination of the moment, but Stede will work with that. But he felt the cracks since he woke up missing time. There was something in the back of his mind he could not shake.
It’s after his third check in, that calls to his hotel room come in at odd hours.
Always start the same, he picks up the receiver and once he says hello, he hears a shrill tone. It’s followed by several precise beeps. Then black.
He wakes an hour to several hours later with no memory, always in his hotel room. The phone sitting untouched. Once he found himself at the window in the early dawn, shirt half open, no memory of how he had gotten there.
Another time his suitcase was repacked as if he were preparing to leave. His notes bore lines in his own hand that he did not remember writing. They’re odd, not making sense. Not related to the mission as it seems that he has not left the room thankfully.
He makes his fourth check in call, no issue. Marking him green. He’s closer to the end of the mission. Being home.
Still, Jonathan Penn remained convincing. He laughs, asked the right questions, slipps into side rooms to note shipping codes. Continues to take photos of files as he gains access to the files of Albert’s known associates, gaining their trust.
The loss of time increases, mostly at night. He wakes staring at a wall in the sitting room in his pajamas barefoot. Having gone to bed, not remembering ever getting out of bed. Checking the time it is nearly three in the morning. There is no telling how long he has been up or how much time he stood there.
More notes, more calls. More black. He feels like he is slowly losing mind but he manages. By the end of the mission, the file was complete. The broker identified, routes mapped, contacts pinned. On paper, it was a success, but he feels like he’s missing something. Something big.
Extraction is smooth, he is able to leave Rotterdam without issue. Back in London, he heads to home office sits through his debrief. Is questioned about the delay of his check in, he explains the travel delays but he isn’t sure Jenkins’ believes him. But the truth would sound like he was compromised.
The Director’s eyes lingering too long on him, weighing fatigue against something deeper. Nothing further said, but he knows there are suspicions. He would have them in their position, he has his own. The report accepted, he is dismissed.
That night in his hotel room, Stede pours a drink, his only thoughts of Charlotte and Ed. Missing his two favourite people. He just wants to be home.
His mind drifting to dark brown eyes, how much he wants to trace his fingers over each tattoo painted across beautiful skin. Lips he has dreamed of kissing. Tasting.
Tomorrow, he could see him. He is going home tomorrow.
Tossing back his drink, he’s going to tell Edward how he feels. Even thinks about calling him tonight. Just to hear his voice. Talk to both of them.
The room phone rang cutting into his thoughts. Jerking his head staring at it as it continues to ring, his heart skips part hope its Charlotte having heard he is home. Part dread it’s another mysterious call.
Setting his glass on the table, he walks to the phone.
Lifting the receiver from the hook, the word barely escapes his lips when the shrill tone cut into him, the beeps followed, and the blackness consumes him.
Chapter 25
Summary:
Being kept under sedation, Stede is being monitored. Agent Garland wants to draw out the assessment to determine if there are lasting or permanent affects from the chip and programming Stede was subjected to.
Charlotte and Ed don't agree. They have an idea of their own, hoping that it not only brings their Stede back but avoids the severe consequences should Not-Stede be a permanent personality.
We also get a little history of Level X within Bonnet Towers home of BonaBon.
Notes:
So many great theories, thank you for all the comments. Poor Stede is not out of the deep end just yet.
Writing wise, I am currently writing and mapping out some of the final chapters. My flow is great, just emotionally in a place of "is this almost at an end?"
It's the second wave after realizing how many chapters, estimated, this will end up being. Still have not updated chapter count because it did increase slightly. But consolation is coming back to chapters I wrote to review, edit, and prepare to share with you just renews how much I am loving this story.
Hope you all have a fab day.
Enjoy -- thank you for comments: past, present, and future.
Chapter Text
A brief explanation and history of Level X & Bonnet Tower
Over the years, even though the Bonnets have maintained an ‘inactive status’ they have maintained a black site for MI5 in the middle of Bonnet Tower home of BonaBon, called Level X.
Anyone who looks at Bonnet Tower would just assume the cement layer in the middle with no windows is a modern architectural and structural decision.
The tower itself is a truncated hexagon, six sides two of which are longer than the other four. It’s rather modern and unique. Of course, this is of no surprise to anyone.
According to any floor plans. Architectural designs. Officially documented as a reinforced service core and structural support, just thickened concrete.
It just sits between floors almost perfectly in the middle of the tower. A quirky yet structurally sound oddity.
In reality, it is built with a triple layer reinforced concrete with lead mesh. This is to provide the structural support which is a real fact, but also to mask radio signals.
The main access is through the elevator through a special access point that only certain personal know about.
It is impossible for anyone to accidentally happen upon or gain access to Level X. Actually, that is not true, or at least it is not true now.
When they first designed it, not long after the site became active, Pete almost discovered it. He had managed to trigger the sequence.
Luckily, Lucius was able to distract him with an act that Stede said if he ever saw him doing in the lift again he might actually have to fire him. And he would have to pay the cleaning bill to have the lift sanitized.
The current design, as are all the security designs of Level X are officially labeled as ‘Pete Proof’ once they pass inspection.
Because unbeknownst to him, he is their official indirect test subject for his uncanny ability to find his way into things he should not.
Making Pete a very important member of the BonaBon security team, it is not for his karate skills. No one is to tell him otherwise, as is the official order give by Head of Level X, Agent Stuart — Code Name: Siren.
There is a hidden bay access that has the space to fit up to two vehicles, categorized as a freight lift conveniently connected to one of their minor warehouses on a lower level on the backside of the building.
Naturally, because no Bonnet structure is complete without a series of secret tunnels and passages there are several that connect from Level X to various floors and each C-Suite office.
There are two connected directly to Stede and Charlotte’s auxiliary wardrobes which are also technically panic / armory rooms. But Stede prefers to the clothing aspect of their use and Charlotte has come around on the handiness of having a fully stocked wardrobe.
But she has more weaponry, gadgets, and other devices in hers than she does shoes. You can imagine it is quite the opposite for Stede. He cleared out a whole section of incendiary devices for a stockpile of his favorite marmalade.
The chip removal was a success in that he is alive. No signs of brain or nerve damage. However, it remains undetermined if the removal will restore his usual temperament and memories or if the programming already implemented is permanent.
He is currently under sedation as more research is being done on the device. The analysis of the calls are being compiled. Of course, it will only be a partial compilation considering calls must have occurred during his mission at some point. Also, in London.
The report was lengthy. They could extract enough information to get an idea of the intent.
A few of the commands they noticed were a primary focus were:
She is your wife. Reinforce her role as subordinate.”
“She has duties. Domestic, loyal, obedient. Demand compliance.”
“Affection is weakness. Withhold unless earned.”
“Suspect betrayal. Assume an affair the CSO. Treat her as compromised.”
“Reframe her successes as yours. Claim credit.”
“Introduce instability. Suggest transition of leadership. Rupert Hawthorne.”
Whoever is behind this is clearly after the company. Another element is the conformity, heavily reminiscent of their fathers. It was determined that the calls come weekly to the office, on the same day. Then there is a call in the evening every Saturday.
They have time to figure out a plan, because they need to make it look nothing happened. Olu says he can create a recording to play of Stede’s voice. They can run an intercept on the calls. She leaves him to it.
Three days later, MI5 gained two new agents both assigned to Level X. Reporting to Senior Agent and Head of Project Level X, Agent Charlotte Stuart aka Siren and assigned to the newly minted Revenge Task Force [Team Revenge]. She herself has now been reactivated and cleared for service, terms and length of service pending.
Agent Teach — Code Name: Blackbeard
Agent Hands — Code Name: Basilica
Agent Zheng also reassigned to Level X’s Revenge Task Force will arrive in a week to provide support while Agent Bonnet’s current status listed as out of commission.
Four days after the chip removal his vitals remain stable under sedation. Unfortunately, he can only be kept in this stasis for a short timeframe. Partly for medical reasons as they would have to place him into a medical coma if they were to elongate his condition.
The other reason is at some point the recordings they are using when the calls come in are sufficient but eventually someone will show up expecting to see him. There is always a chance that Rupert or even Charles could come see him at the office. Who knows who else will show up that is connected to Dominion.
From the recording log, a few of the commands mention Dominion. Olu and his team of Level X analysts could dig into back channels, they found whispers of an organization on the rise but not much else. What they could gather, members of Dominion may include people like Charles and Rupert. Men of society, rank, and power.
All a theory at this point, but it’s far more than they had before. They also found another name Richard Banes a Minor Prince from some information sent over from Home Office. It was feeling like this could be connected.
Now, they have to decide what’s the best way to handle bring him out of sedation.
Garland wants to wake him, run memory tests. Keep him in a light sedation. See if he can answer questions his usual self would know. A sound plan. It’s worth a try but Charlotte’s concern is time. It’s not on their side. They don’t know what Dominion has planned next.
When Garland asked her what she recommended, she said it was risky and would need to talk to someone first before they even entertained the thought further.
At a Bistro near the office, Charlotte took Ed to Lunch. It was much needed to just get out of the office. After their trip to London, he’s been a little more on edge.
Of course he is. In what world would he had ever anticipated that the man you love would come home as an alternate version of himself? Now have him sedated in a MI5 black site secretly located in the building you work in then find yourself now an agent of that same government agency.
She felt the guilt of being the reason he was here, his life upturned. She wrote that letter. Here they are.
She watches as he’s tucking into his coronation chicken sandwich of chicken in a creamy curry-mayonnaise with apricots. She is always astounded by his sweet tooth, knowing he is eyeing the crepes Suzette waiting beside his plate.
Her own quiche Lorraine nearly forgotten, her appetite has been nonexistent the past few weeks. She’s happy to see he has a healthy appetite at least.
He’s between bites when he realizes she’s staring at him. Setting his fork down, tilting his head he nods to her plate.
“Not hungry?” his concern clear as he studies her.
Shrugging she picks her fork up, moving the food around, “Lost in thought.”
“Bullshit,” he snorts, “you and I both know it. I also know you haven’t been eating.”
He gives her a challenging look daring her to contradict him.
Setting the fork down she crosses her arms leaning back in her chair, “Who told you that?”
“Don’t think the people around you don’t notice, love,” he takes another bite, his eyes still trained on her.
“I never said otherwise. It’s not what I asked,” she countered feeling the heat in her cheeks not sure why she is getting so upset.
Leaning forward on the table taking another bite, considering her as he swallows, “You want a list?”
He waves his fork around as he counts out on his fingers listing off names not waiting for an answer, “Roach, Izzy, Jim, Lu…”
“Fine,” tossing her hands up knowing she sounds childish right now, “point made.”
His looks softens, “You’re worried he won’t be the same. I am, too.”
She meets his look then, it’s plain to see he knows why she brought him here. Away from the office, the house. All of it. Of course he does. She is stupid for assuming he wouldn’t figure it out.
“The chance of this being permanent is high,” she admits, “it was supposed to be theoretical. All of it. But clearly whoever this Dominion is, they figured it out. At least enough he’s their test subject for a prototype. So, of course there is that potential that their tech is faulty enough—”
Sitting back in his chair, eyes downcast. He’s brilliant, she knows this. Not just from his background and dossier. Just from knowing him. She can tell he is thinking through it all, processing the variables. The potential outcomes.
“We won’t know until he wakes up?” He asks slowly, it’s more of a statement than a question.
“Garland wants to wake him but keep him under light sedation. Ask him a series of questions to gauge the extent of the…damage.”
“You mean how much of our Stede is left?”
She doesn’t answer.
“What is the alternative if we don’t get him back. If Not-Stede’s toxic masculinity dick personality is permanent?” He asks, he has a feeling he knows the answer. Not really sure he wants to hear it but at this point they can’t avoid the topic.
“Detainment at another black site. An inquiry will be conducted to determine how compromised he is, from there they will either detain him run further tests or initiate protocols.” Her words are clipped, she feels the finality of the potential outcome settling in. Consequence of Dominion’s actions.
“You want to try something else?” He counters, knowing she doesn’t agree with Garland’s suggestion. “In hopes to save him from that fate and try to get our Stede back?”
She looks at him surprised. Of course he would realize she has a different idea. He stares at her expectantly. He’s come to the same conclusion she has, but it's clear he wants her to be the one to say it, give the plan voice.
“I do. But it’s risky, but not for him,” she says not sure he’ll get her meaning.
“What do you want me to do?” His food forgotten at the moment.
“It’s not want, Ed. What if as he wakes, you’re there with him? You engage with him, see if you can connect with—” she pauses, “it’s risky because if it’s permanent. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Too late for that. We lost him, he’s gone. So if there is a chance we can get him back,” he sighs, “it’s worth trying.”
“I think so, but I’m not the one going in. Risking my heart on this face to face with him.”
He nods as he returns to eating his meal then he pauses a cheeky smile spreads on his face, “I mean, I could just walk in there when he wakes and just kiss him. That ought to do it.”
She laughs, “maybe. But try to talk first, yeah?”
“Ruin a fellas good time, haven’t been kissed good and proper in a long time. So it’s all well and good for you to say ‘talk first.’ You and Iz snog about as much as Lucius does with Pete and Fang.”
She throws her napkin at him, “You’re absurd that is an outlandish lie!”
“Pretty sure I saw your lipstick shade on him this morning,” he winks grabbing the napkin from his chest where it landed.
“Edward David Teach. You’re a pain.”
“Yeah, but you love me.” He smiles at her, his grin goofy.
Ed is not so sure about this plan now that he thinks about it. Maybe he was too full of sugar. He knows it’s partly how much he misses Stede, the real Stede. Swoops of blonde hair, sunshine smile, dimple, and laugh.
Standing in the outer chamber where he is being sedated waiting for the signal to enter. He’s having second thoughts. Not-Stede was a real dick.
Cold hazel eyes. Hard pass.
Breathing in deeply, flexing his hands. He knows they have to try.
Slowly the door to the room opens, Agent Garland steps back so he can come through. He’s met her a few times. She’s short. Feisty. Brilliant.
Calypso he is nervous. She offers him a warm smile as she goes to check monitors. He walks around toward where Stede is strapped into a space age looking chair. Not quite standing upright, more of an angle. They have monitors tracking his vitals, several small pads connected to his head wired to a device.
He had been in a sterile gown. On orders the team had redressed him back in that awful suit. Because they want to gauge his reaction to his wardrobe upon his waking up. Another way to gauge memory, personality, and assess the damage from the chip.
Rocking on his heels, he waits. Standing still is not something he does well. His eyes wander around the room, he spots the big mirror. It’s a two-way, likely Char is on the other side. Possibly Izzy, too, if there isn’t a meeting with a client. He gives a nervous wave.
Finally, Garland comes over to him having finished her checks.
“We will bring him off sedation. He’ll slowly awaken. Likely he will be disoriented, so it will take a moment for him to focus on his surroundings.”
He nods taking it all in giving her his full attention.
“Stand where he can see you. I’d recommend letting him speak first. But do what feels natural. There is a chance he may appear aggressive. He may not remember you or he may react from your last interaction which was rather physical and unpleasant.”
Ed grimaces remembering reminding himself that was between Blackbeard and Not-Stede. Compartmentalizing helps. Frenchie calls it stuffing into a box inside with a lock.
She is quiet for a moment, “The probability of the mind control programming being permanent or causing damage….its high. I know Agent Stuart informed you of the probability. But there is a chance since it is new tech. Don’t take it to heart if this does not go well today.”
He nods noting the way she says the last part like there is always a second try if this does not go well, “I understand.”
Nodding she pats him on the arm. She walks toward the door to the observation room. Once the door is closed. He is alone.
Positioning himself in Stede’s line of sight. Taking a few deep breaths he mentally prepares himself.
A few beeps from the machines is the signal that they are releasing him from sedation. He’s been tapering off of the medication they’re using for the past hour or so. To help bring him to a state of conciousness.
After several minutes, what feels like hours to Ed, he sees his fingers slowly moving. His body shifting like he’s waking up from sleep. He can also see his eyes fluttering as if he is trying to open them.
His stomach is in knots, he’s not sure he can do this. Charlotte was right about it being risky, for his heart. At this moment, he thinks maybe this was a mistake.
A moan escapes his lips as his head moves, like he has a hangover. Sounds come from his lips, he’s mumbling, but Ed can’t hear him. His eyes slowly open then close, the light clearly bright.
“Fuck, my head,” he says his voice rough with sleep from days of no use.
Not really promising of which version of Stede this is. Ed notices the lights dim. They must have controls in the observation room.
Stede must also notice as he tries to open his eyes once more. Slowly he’s looking around the room. He’s staring off into the distance, it’s clear his vision must be hazy an apparent disorientation.
Eventually he turns his head until his eyes land on Ed. Of whom holds his breath like that is going to do much under Stede’s gaze.
Stede stares at him, but he isn’t able to get a read on his look. Like he is trying to study him, figure him out then unexpectedly.
“Hi,” he says.
Ed doesn’t know what to fucking do with that.
“Hi,” he says raising a hand to wave awkwardly. Mentally cursing himself for looking so dorky. Stede is clearly amused, he laughs then closes his eyes.
Panic sets in he looks around the two-way mirror. At least he isn’t aggressive?
“We…I know you,” he says, it’s not a question. Stede’s eyes are still closed as his head lays back against the cushion.
“Yeah, mate. You do.” He confirms. Charlotte told him earlier, ask him simple questions if he seems unaware.
“Hey mate,” he says slowly. Stede hums like he’s drunk but Ed wonders if it’s the sedation wearing off.
“Do you know your name?”
Stede opens his eyes considering him for a moment like he’s really thinking about it.
“Thomas Edwards,” he says matter-of-factly.
“Yeah, good…wait, what?” he hadn’t expected this.
Stede giggles. He fucking giggles. Ed looks horrified at the mirror.
“What’s so funny?” he asks his own laugh cutting in, even like this he is a madman.
“Was thinking of a rhyme,” he says.
“Wanna tell me?” He steps closer to Stede.
He shakes his head, “Secret,” then looks at Ed for a long moment.
“You have kind eyes,” he whispers, “reminds me of someone.”
“Who?” he asks eagerly. He knows he sounds desperate. The hope is clawing at his heart.
Stede is frowning now, like he is about to cry.
“I lost them, can’t find them. Trying to get back to them. To him,” he says sadly.
“If you found him. What would you do?”
“Keep a secret?” the way he says it is almost conspiratorial, like a little kid who thinks they know the secret to life itself.
“Course mate. That’s what best friends do,” it just slips out but too late now. Stede just smiles. It wrecks him.
“I’m in love. So very in love. I like breathing the same air as him, it feels good. Feels nice. But…” tears are forming, his lip wobbling.
“But what?” Ed whispers, without realizing he has been stepping closer to Stede. Every word they exchange he is closer to him.
“He doesn’t know. I can’t find him, it’s all gone to black. I’m lost.” he crying now.
He is nearly face to face with him now, raising his hand he wipes the tears from his cheek with his thumb.
“You’re kind. So very kind, with pretty eyes. I’ve misplaced starlight. I keep trying to find my way back to the starlight,” more tears come, and it makes Ed want to cry.
Stede leans closer, there is pain in his face, “They have hidden the moon from me. They are trying to take it away. The sky is gone it’s all black,” he says quietly eyes drifting to the ceiling.
Ed wipes away the tears from his temple, “Why is it black, love?”
“Don’t know. Dreams of brown, soft, silver then came the sounds it went black,” he’s lost in another world it’s clear from his gaze.
In his earpiece, a voice comes through causing him to jump. He forgot it’s there.
“Hey Ed,” her voice is cautious as she speaks softly, “Garland says he may be in a state between awake and sedation still. It’s clear part of—” she doesn’t say it, he knows she doesn’t need to say it.
“If he fully wakes?” he says to her, to the room.
“Based on his current state, the conditioning from the programming they’ve done already still may take over. That’s our best guess.”
He can tell this is affecting her, even as calm as she sounds. Stede is still looking in the distance as if he’s in a dream.
“Do you trust me?” he says for her, for him. For all three of them. Loud enough they’ll both hear.
Stede shifts his eyes toward Ed, they’re still unfocused the look on his face is lost, frightened.
He and Charlotte say at the same time, “Yes.”
It’s all he needs to hear, he cups his face gently, wet hazel eyes staring at him. Soften, hopeful.
“You make Ed happy, he loves you, too. Is in love with you, Stede. Come home, my Sun,” he says pressing his lips to Stede’s.
Chaste. Not ideal as first kisses go. Ed pours all his love and hope into his kiss, closing his eyes as he caresses his face. Stede is stiff at first, shocked. Ed feels the dread inside of him that this is not working.
Then he feels…
Stede relaxing into the kiss, a sigh as he presses closer. His lips parting as the kiss is deepening. Surprising him feeling the tip of Stede’s tongue pressing against his permission to explore, a request for more. He gives it, freely. He feels the heat of the kiss. Loses himself in Stede. In his lips.
He can hear a small voice in the back of his mind. His conscious needs to chill, they should be so happy he is finally kissing Stede Bonnet. But no, reality is creeping in because that voice, that would be in his ear.
“You should come up for air at some point lover boy,” a soft giggle.
Sighing, he pulls back, lingering close. His fingers pushing through Stede’s curls. Hears the small whine, feels lips chasing his then sees the pout from Stede. He also sees recognition.
“I’ll remember that next time I walk in on you and Iz,” he whispers knowing she’ll hear on the earpiece.
“Idol threats,” she cuts back playfully, “I’m sorry but we aren’t out of the clear. Focus. This is a good sign, which means more kisses soon.” Her words were fond, hopeful. He feels it soaking into his bones, his soul.
He smoothes his fingers through soft curls. “Ed?” the way Stede says his name, it’s like a balm.
“Yeah, Stede. It’s me,” his breath still heavy from their kiss. His eyes tick down to Stede’s kiss swollen lips. Licking his own, he feels the pull to taste them once more. But like she said, not out of the clear.
Clearing his throat, he turns his gaze back up, clearer brighter hazel eyes staring at him. Confusion apparent on his face.
“Stede. I know things may feel hazy right now. What is the last thing you remember, love?” He has to keep this going, his heart is pounding. Remembering Not-Stede, the memory of cold eyes keeping him on task.
“London. Returning from my mission. At my hotel, back from Home Office. Was having a drink then I was—,” he blushes his eyes avoiding Ed suddenly. Interesting.
Did that drink lead to personal exploration? Fuck, down Ed!
“What else?” his voice nearly cracks, is he that bad off a blush nearly has him undone?
“I was thinking about home. Coming home. Charlotte…you,” there is longing in his eyes, a sadness. Truth behind everything he is telling him.
“Me? You were thinking about me?” He knows he’s fishing, but this is for science. Yeah science. And saving their Stede.
“I always think about you. How brilliant you are. Your beautiful eyes, I could stare at them all day. Your smile, laugh. I love to hear and make you laugh,” he sighs as if the dream is still so far away.
“We spend time together so well. I love being near you, feels nice. Breathing the same air. I love everything about you. Ed, I love you.”
Ed’s bottom lip is wobbling, if he is about to sob right now it’s no one else’s business. Fuck anyone who is watching.
“Stede,” it’s like a prayer on his lips.
“You don’t have to say it back,” there are tears in his eyes.
“Fuck. Of course I love you. I’ve been in love with you probably since the day we met. Since you gave me a tour of the office, with your two chandeliers and auxiliary wardrobe. You lunatic.”
Sniffling back more tears, searching his eyes for any changes. His fingers rubbing his thumb over his forehead, fingers tangled in his hair.
“Not to mention your lunatic wife. I fucking love her, too. My two Bonnets. Fuck me, I was a goner. I love you, please don’t leave me.” He is fully sobbing now, a bad day for eyeliner a small voice says. It’s his, not Charlotte’s.
“I’m trying. The black, I can’t explain,” Stede’s lips is wobbling, words are watery.
A noise in the room alerts him they’re not alone. He hears the click of heels, two pairs. Closing his eyes, hanging onto this moment as long as he can before he faces what’s next. Slowly he pulls back.
“I’m right here, love. Not going anywhere,” he says calmly. Stede only nods.
He takes a few steps back before he feels small warm arms wrap around him. Looking down, he sees his other Bonnet. Her green eyes misty.
“Hey, you did good,” she whispers offering him a smile.
His tears fall harder as he crumples into her. She soothes him, rubbing her hands on his back.
“Moon?” a soft voice calls out having clearly seen her.
They both look up, Stede is watching them. His eyes are the brightest they’ve seen them. She hesitates casting a glance at Garland who is at the edge of the room reviewing monitors. They look up from checking the readings then to her nodding. Ed loosens his hold of her as he nudges her.
“Hello Sun,” she says quietly.
“Where am I?” he asks hoarsely.
Slowly approaching him, she’s cautious. The chip is out. His connection to Dominion severed. Doesn’t mean there isn’t lingering effects.
“Safe. Under observation,” she offers with little detail. Ed gives her a look of understanding.
As the head of Level X, she has to keep the project and black site safe. Having been debriefed now as an Agent, he knows that there is concern that Stede is compromised as an agent. She has to consider the security risks. He hates that for her.
Leaning his head back, his eyes scanning the room. He’s a smart man, likely once he regains more of his awareness he will piece together more about his surroundings and location.
Shifting he is staring down at himself, has been silent for a while. Ed can see it’s making Charlotte nervous. She is eyeing him cautiously. Stede is unmoving, like he is concentrating hard. No movement other than a shallow breath.
“Stede,” her voice nervous as she says his name, he may have been more himself but the change can still happen.
“Why am I—” he pauses, his tone taking on an edge that makes her wince, “wearing this awful suit? Ugh, it’s like my Father dressed me!”
His outrage clear, as if bad fashion or the suit itself has insulted him offended him. A look of disgust on his face. He snaps his eyes at her a look of horror, maybe a memory but she isn’t sure. He is clearly living his worst nightmare at the moment, quite literally wearing it.
A snort and laugh from behind her gets her attention. One from Ed and the other from Trudy. Charlotte bites back her own.
“Darling, I am afraid you’re the reason. Recently you bought a whole new wardrobe from a tailor recommended to you by someone you met at Whitehall.”
If he looked offended before, his face morphed into being downright affronted. Sheer disbelief at the very thought of replacing his wardrobe. Slipping into mortification of not only having done so but willingly worn it.
“What? Tell me my real wardrobe and auxiliary wardrobes are safe,” he is staring at them in abject terror.”
“They are safe and untouched,” she assures him. A momentary relief comes over him, he rests his head back. But it’s not long as another look passes over his features, he is staring at Ed and Charlotte a look of accusation and suspicion.
“Oh, I get it. You menaces, this is one of your fuckeries! This isn’t funny. I know you two love your pranks. This is too far, you don’t mess with a man’s wardrobe,” as if he’s lecturing a child, “You’ve gone too far.”
Like a damn bursting, Ed is doubled over in laughter which is certainly not helping the situation in the slightest. Only adding fuel to the fire when Stede feels vindicated as if this evidence alone.
Charlotte gives Ed a look that stops him mid laugh, as the saying goes if looks could kill (she and Izzy would be tied in that area), before she turns back to Stede.
“Not a prank or a fuckery. For the last almost two months, you’ve been under the mind control of an entity called Dominion. We don’t know much at the moment, but we have leads.”
His face drops, he looks at them unsure but it sinks in that what she is saying is true. “Ah, that would explain the black. All the times I was having gaps of memory loss on my mission.”
“Yes, but we need to know what happened. All we know is what we have been able to put together from recent events,” she says apologetically. He nods, looking tired.
She walks over to him, taking his hand into hers, “We will get you out of this room. Hopefully, somewhere familiar with better clothes. You can rest then we can talk, puzzle together what happened before you came home.”
A tear rolled down his temple, he looks at her a look of sadness deep in his eyes, “I didn’t hurt you did I? Or Ed…the crew, they’re okay?”
She offers him a weak smile trying her best to offer him comfort, “You didn’t do anything. We are fine. Just to damn happy to have you back, Sun.”
He smiles nodding his head, his eyes close clearly tired. She looks at Trudy who moves to get things in order to get the medical team so they can check his vitals so he can be moved.
Given his condition, they all agree it would be best to move him to a secure location. Clearly at the moment there are no signs or evidence that the mind control programming is returning. Best option is the penthouse, it’s familiar and secure. It will keep up appearances if Dominion is monitoring his movements.
It’s already been risky with his being in sedation as long as he has. They have managed to making it look like he leaves and comes to the office daily, a regular routine steady enough to fool anyone watching from afar.
Jim sees to preparing the penthouse. Stede is feeling more himself, but clearly disoriented since his last memory was months ago. While he is being taken care of. Garland makes recommendations on how to approach sharing details about his alter ego and events of the past two months.
Start with basics, Charlotte says they may need to hold certain elements back until he is given the all clear. At the moment, the biggest concern is rest. They can start asking the real questions tomorrow, hopefully Not-Stede will not return.
Chapter 26
Summary:
Stede is recovering but there are still residual effects from the mind control chip. He also has to keep up appearances to pretend to be Not-Stede from time to time. A role he is not very eager to take on, but they can't let Dominion know he's been burned.
Not yet, not when there is so much more to learn. One of the things that is giving him pause is the idea that Charlotte and Izzy would be in a relationship other than friendship. It's Izzy, he's so unpleasant!
After a just over a month, he and Ed have their first official date. They have a conversation about their relationship while he isn't sedated. It's quite a lovely date.
Notes:
I stand by not being a spicy writer. But I am pushing the edge of it in this chapter and some in future. I will disappoint you, it's going to be alleged and maybe a little steamy. Otherwise, it will be so cringey.
RIP Robert Redford who passed today. I say this, because Redford not only as an amazing actor but activist (environmental, LGBTQ+, etc) is someone I had a huge crush on and just love. I am not that old, but I definitely lean into being an fan of film.
But also, I know you have not really been introduced to Reginald Stuart at this point, not directly. But a few days ago as I was writing a later chapter in which you will meet him Robert Redford is who I had in my mind for how he looks.
Sad note.
Enjoy the partly steamy bits. If they are cringey, well look away! Love y'all.
Chapter Text
Mind control is a fickle business. There are no guarantees that once the mind has been tampered you can go back to its original condition. While they were fortunate that the chip remove was a success and Stede seemingly returned to normal, there were some side effects. Not to mention, until this point it has been considered theoretical.
He was experiencing gaps in memory from time to time. The first couple of days certain phrases or words would trigger him, they would see a peak at Not-Stede’s personality for short time frames.
The suits remained the same, the mannerisms calculated, appearances kept for anyone who might be watching. That was all for show. They logged the calls, maintained the recordings, and if Dominion reached out, Stede would entertain them. He hated it, but they couldn’t risk tipping their hand. Not yet.
Charlotte was struggling to be alone with him, she was doing her best not to let it show. She was overjoyed to have him back to normal. As close as normal as was possible all things considered. Trudy was quite impressed with his improvements.
There were times when she looked at him, flashes of her last night with Not-Stede rippled through her. Stede noticed her distance, how could he not. He and Charlotte had always been so close. He knew from what was shared about Not-Stede’s words, actions, and overall attitude that of course it would affect her. Even the stories shared with him conjured the thought of Reginald.
He confided in Ed, who told him she just needed time. Ed didn’t know the details, only that Charlotte would talk to him when the time was right he was sure of it.
He was even more appalled that the very first night of his being back he had Charles Vane in their Penthouse exposing her to that vile man. She had assured him nothing had happened, and it was one of many clues he was not himself.
What he did not tell her was that he was having dreams, flashbacks of memories of being Not-Stede. Interactions and conversations that made left him feeling disgusted and ashamed. He was seeing a psychiatrist as ordered by the service. He was thankful for having the support to process feeling like he subjected his wife to abuses that he would have never otherwise committed.
Even Izzy was careful around him. Civil, polite, but avoiding any unnecessary interaction. It weighed on him. Pete was a little on edge about his uniforms.
As a peace offering he had Wee John alter a set of new uniform shirts without sleeves for him. Even if he felt it was an unprofessional look. But it made Pete happy.
He and Ed were spending more time together. They often spent quite a lot of time together before, but it felt more intimate. Freer now that they had spoken their feelings out loud.
Over the next month, the calls continued to come. Dominion was clear: Charlotte needs to step down, assert Rupert as CEO. It wasn’t just the calls, he had a luncheon with Rupert at least twice. None the wiser the man seemed satisfied with their meetings. Stede assured him that all was in place, that she would be stepping down soon. He was confident he could even gain the support of Edward Teach.
Claiming the COO was coming around to his side. Rupert was happy to hear that Blackbeard was coming to reason. He considers him a strong ally, the right kind of business mind. He day raise his concern about keeping Israel Hands in his position as CSO. It was heavily impressed that Stede should find a way to get rid of him by any means. He was standing in their way.
His focus on Izzy sat uneasy with Stede. When he pressed Rupert further, the man only laughed saying that it was gauche to keep the man fucking your wife on the payroll. He patted him on the shoulder, saying he knows why he allowed it for so long. It was a smart play, use it against her but clearly he needed to be more forceful.
Stede waved him off agreeing. It was high time to shift his strategy. Before they parted Rupert said “It could be worse, she could be fucking the help. But I suppose a man like Hands isn’t too far removed from that status.”
The whole interaction left him with more questions than answers. He knew from what he had been briefed that Not-Stede had early on insinuated an affair. Chalking it up clearly to a tactic to get her to step down, even recalling that he even insinuated she was having one with Ed.
But for Rupert to be so direct. The whole idea that Charlotte and Izzy would be entangled beyond friendship was an odd notion to begin with. Of course they were close, he had been there to support her while he had been away on missions while Ed was overseeing things at BonaBon. She and Ed are close.
He has no issue with his wife having relationships. Evelyn was an issue, had become one eventually in her campaign for Charlotte to leave him.
Charlotte has been encouraging of his relationship with Ed. Their biggest champion. The idea of her having one with Izzy, he wasn’t sure why it had him feeling uneasy. The man is so unpleasant, despite the few good merits he has it just feels like the oddest of matches.
Almost a month and half after the chip removal, Ed was planning a date night with Stede. Opting for a romantic dinner at the penthouse. They were being cautious about being seen in public not knowing if Dominion was monitoring him. Roach had happily agreed to cook a dinner.
Charlotte had gone to the house to give them complete undisturbed, alone time. He had left work earlier to prepare everything. She had helped him pick out the perfect purple velvet suit to wear and given him full reign of her vanity. He had it laid out on the bed in the master bedroom.
He had the dining room all set up, flowers and candles. Roach was finishing the dinner. He would finish the dinner, make sure they were all set, and finish the desert then return to the house.
Ed was buzzing nervously.
On the bed in the guest room was a turquoise silk suit for Stede he picked out. He knows he will want to get out of the ugly charcoal suit he has been having to wear to pretend to be Not-Stede.
As the time was coming closer for Stede to arrive he quickly slipped into the suit. It was one that Charlotte insisted on buying for him. Commissioning it from Stede’s favorite tailor, who took his measurements and had made it to fit him perfectly. It hugged close to him in a way that made him feel sexy, confident.
The cut of the pants to the jacket, he admired himself in the mirror. He looks beautiful, feeling his heart flutter he takes the jacket off. Adjust his shirt he sits down at the vanity, remembering how Charlotte had shown him how to pin his hair up. He sets about gathering it, then picks up the small pearl pins pushing them in place.
Turning his head he admires how they look. Once he finished he picks up the eye pencils she left for him, he then lines his eyes. Sitting back he admires how big they make his eyes look. He loves wearing eye liner, should do it more often.
Hearing the door followed by Stede’s voice, his heart flutters. Roach is supposed to tell him to go into the guest room to get ready. There is a note for him with further instructions. Ed is feeling giddy with anticipation.
Looking around the vanity he finds a palette of shadows finding the champagne shimmering one he’s been eyeing for a while. Turning it over he sees its called champers. Perfect, he rubs a little on the applicator then onto the outer parts of his eyes where Char had showed him.
Admiring his work he smiles at his reflection.
Stede walks into the guest room, it’s been a long day and he is looking forward to his evening with Ed. Their first day, if you don’t count the fish and chips. Amused by the instructions from Roach he sees the gorgeous turquoise tailored silk suit for him on the bed.
Happily he takes off the drab suit tossing it onto a chair not caring if it gets wrinkled. An immortal Stede Bonnet sin, but he really hates those suits. He is very much looking forward to wearing this gem of a suit his love has left for him.
Once he is dressed feeling more like himself he heads into the en suite. He needs to do something with his hair, just another layer of being more himself. After a bit of fussing and teasing his fingers through his curls, he gets it just about where he likes it. Stepping back he admires himself in the mirror, close enough he thinks.
Walking back into the room, he stands in front of the full-length mirror taking in his appearance. He looks more himself than he has in a long time. The suit is fab. He can feel the tension draining from his body, his eyes catch a folded piece of paper on the dresser.
Picking it up he reads the note:
Hello Sun
Once you are dressed and feeling more like yourself. Go fix yourself and I will join you shortly.
Love your starlight
xoxo
He smiles reading the note. His sweet starlight.
Just as he finished pouring his drink, footsteps sounded behind him. He turned, and the breath caught in his throat. Standing before him was a vision, clad in a tailored velvet suit of deep purple that clung to his frame with effortless elegance.
His black hair, streaked with silver, was swept up, small pearls woven through like stars scattered in the night. It was, without question, the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. His Edward.
He knew his mouth was hanging open. Finally he found his words, “You look stunning. Absolutely breathtaking, my starlight.”
Ed’s cheeks flushed with a deep blush, “You look beautiful.”
“Oh darling, not compared to you,” he says setting his drink down walking toward him. His hand outstretched toward him. Blush remaining he took Stede’s hand stepping down further into the living room.
Wrapping an arm around his waist, Stede drew him close. He felt the lush velvet beneath his fingertips. Stede’s gaze lingered on the shimmering shadow that softened Edward’s eyes, the dark line of kohl making the warm brown beneath burn all the brighter.
“When I look into your eyes, it’s as if I can see all my lifetimes and forevers. Holding you in my arms, I know I am home. The love of the rest of my life and the next.”
A small gasp escapes his lips, “You can’t say things like that, Stede.”
He smiles, tightening his fingers on his back, “I think you will find, my love, that I can.” Leaning in, he pressed his lips to Ed’s, a soft spark at first, warmth meeting warmth. Ed tasted of sugar, cigarettes, and something entirely his own, lips supple beneath his. Stede lingered there, savoring, until the press of Ed’s mouth relaxed into him, an invitation he couldn’t resist.
The kiss deepened, tongues brushing, testing, before Stede pressed forward with a hunger he hadn’t let himself show. Ed parted for him without hesitation, eager and demanding, the quiet gasp in his throat.
Ed’s fingers slid into Stede’s hair, tightening at the base of his neck as if to hold him there, unwilling to let him pull away. His other arm swept around Stede’s back, dragging him flush against his chest. The heat between them sharpened, lips clashing harder, biting and yielding, a rhythm that grew more desperate with every second.
A throat clearing nearby snapped brought them back to where they were, slowing breathing heavy. Neither moving, their lips kiss swollen as they stared at each longingly.
Roach cleared his throat again, “Not that I don’t love love. You did ask me to let you know when dinner is ready.”
Ed nods slowly a smile as he watched Stede bite his lower lip, tempting him to lean in to kiss him once more. He turned to look at Roach who was looking at him expectantly.
“Thanks,” his voice sounding high and cracked. Clearing his throat, “Thanks, mate. Appreciate it. I think we have it from here.”
Hands on his hips unmoving giving them both a look that said he had little confidence that did in fact ‘have it from here.’
“Right, yep.” Ed said looking at Stede slowly untwining his hold from him. He gave him a look of total and utter adoration, “Dinner time. Or else I think Roach may kill us.”
“You have that right,” he hears as Roach walks back toward the kitchen.
Dinner was perfect, the kind of meal that made time stretch. Wine glasses refilled, plates pushed aside, deserts that drew out moans from each of their lips, laughter at little nothings. Conversation drifted easily.
Making their way back to the living room, they sat beside each other cuddled on the sofa. Eventually the conversation wound toward more serious topics as needed.
Ed leaned forward, voice softer. “Charlotte told me a bit about you and her. Your marriage, how it happened. About how you’ve always fit together. But she said the rest was yours to tell.”
Stede nodded, tracing the rim of his glass. “I’ve had partners, here and there. But they were only physical. I’ve never had her ease, her confidence. Not with relationships, not with sex. Looking back, I think it’s because I’m… different. Demisexual, I suppose you’d call it.”
He nods, “She mentioned, which makes sense. Explains how the intense connection and relationship you have together.”
Stede offers him a fond smile, “And ours, I like to think. We have a special relationship, I love her. Some people don’t understand that, they assume because I’m gay I can’t be in love with my wife.”
“I know you are,” he says reassuringly, “seen it firsthand, mate. I have to say, I love her as well. Charlotte, second to you, is one of my dearest friends. Platonic cuddle buddy is how I described it to Lu. My life is best with both Bonnets in it.”
Stede laughs, a slight blush, “Yes, well. You have us I daresay.”
Ed’s tone turned a little more sad, serious. “She also told me about trying for children.”
Silence lingered between them, Stede’s gaze dropping. His voice, when it came, was low. “Yes. That was hard. Despite not having great parents ourselves, it was like one day we woke up and the idea of being parents just felt so perfect. Exciting. We have so much love to give. The idea of having a child who would be the mixture of the best of us to raise and love.”
He sounds wistful as he talks about it, his tone shifting with the painful memories. “She was remarkable through all of it. She would have been a wonderful mother.” His throat tightened. “I still believe that.”
Ed reached out, brushing his hand against Stede’s. The tension eased when Stede gave a sad smile. “Then Jim and Lucius which gave us a whole different experience of having children, in its own way. Then the rest of the crew, we aren’t that much older them some of them. It fills a part of the space, but it’s not the same, is it?”
Ed squeezed his hand, “Family. They became family, might not be the same but they fill a space, not just a physical one.” He taps his fingers over Stede’s heart.
Stede wipes a tear from his eye, “Now we have you. Not to mention we gained Fang, Ivan, and I suppose even Izzy.”
The mention of Izzy’s name garnered a laugh from Ed, a fond roll of his eyes. Stede straightened, met his eyes, and said with a steadiness that surprised even himself, “Edward, I would like to… pursue this. Us. With you. Romantically.”
For a beat Ed just stared, then his grin spread wide and unguarded. “So, what…like boyfriends?”
Stede laughed, shoulders loosening. “Yes. If that’s what you want to call it. Boyfriends.”
Ed leaning over kissed him fiercely, smiling into the warmth of it. “Fucking yes, babe, love that. Boyfriends.”
Their mouths crash together again, the kiss slow and testing at first before heat overtakes it. Ed shifts forward, setting both glasses aside with a clink, then swings a leg over to straddle Stede’s lap. His eyes burn with hunger. Stede’s hands slide up his thighs, gripping firm at his waist, pulling him flush.
The kiss turns ravenous, tongues sliding, breath harsh and unsteady. Stede drags him closer, his hands roaming under Ed’s jacket, holding him tight. Ed grinds down against him, a moan torn from his throat as he feels the hard press beneath him. “Oh, Ed.”
Encouraged, Ed mouths along his jaw, biting and licking at his neck until Stede gasps, clinging tighter. Stede’s hands drop lower, grabbing his ass, thrusting up into him with needy force. Ed groans, rutting back, the friction almost unbearable.
Stede pulls back just enough to rasp, his voice cracked with want, “Edward… I want you in the bedroom. Out of that suit. Pearls stay on.”
Ed grins wickedly, tender and eager all at once. He catches Stede’s hand, threads their fingers together, and drags him up. They stumble toward the bedroom, laughter spilling between more desperate kisses.
Stede pressing him against the wall halfway, hips grinding, before they finally push through the door and shut it behind them.
Things had been going well, he was feeling better. He and Ed were boyfriends now, the feeling made him giddy. When he told Charlotte she had squealed in delight hugging him. Even though he was still having to pretend to be Not-Stede, as Ed had come to call the Dominion persona, he was feeling the happiest he has in a long time.
Often he finds himself daydreaming of running his fingers along the lines of Ed’s tattoos tracing them. Studying every inch of skin. Feeling the tender kiss of his lips. Enjoying the nights they were able to spend together wrapped together in the bliss of their afterglow.
He was lost in his thoughts having just changed out of his awful charcoal suit. Stede moved quietly through the penthouse, the sound of Charlotte’s voice carrying down the hall from the study. Slowing, curiosity tugging at him, until Izzy’s low reply joined hers.
The tone was wrong. Too soft, too fragile to be the Izzy Hands he knew. He edged closer.
“…Have you told him yet?” Izzy’s voice, heavy with restraint.
“No,” Charlotte answered, her words a sigh. “I wanted to give him and Ed time. To let them find their footing. They finally just, I mean it’s so cute…boyfriends. With everything recently—”
“And us?” The question cracked, raw. “Don’t we deserve a chance, too? You lectured them both to talk to each other. I know you and Bonnet spoke about his feelings for Ed. About their chance of happiness.”
Stede’s breath hitched. He should have walked away. He didn’t. He knew they were close. Izzy has been there for her.
The door was partly open. He saw as she stepped into Izzy’s arms, resting her cheek against his shoulder. “Of course we do. I know these last few months have been hard. You’re right, I did. It’s just—”
Izzy’s reply was almost broken. “I don’t want to disrupt your marriage. I just want to feel like I don’t have to keep hiding. Like I don’t have to worry that one day I’ll wake up and lose you.”
He held her tighter, his eyes wet looking down at her, “I’ve almost lost you too many times. If I ever lost you, it would break me.”
“I know,” she whispers before pressing her lips kissing him. Izzy’s hand moves up her back, holding her closer as the kiss deepens.
The sight landing like a blow to Stede’s ribs. His stomach dropping, his pulse roaring in his ears. For a heartbeat he thought it was another lapse, some cruel hallucination left over from the chip, but no…the scene is real.
Charlotte, his Charlotte, in Izzy’s arms. Izzy who…he didn’t hate him. But it’s Izzy. Of all the people in the world, it’s him. Such an unpleasant little man.
He staggered back a step, his throat dry, fingers curling helplessly at his sides. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling.
Breath shallow, he turned and slipped away down the hall, every step heavy. He went to his study, sitting on his sofa. His mind reeling. How could he have he missed this?
It wasn’t long when Ed peaked through the door smiling, “Hey love, was looking for you. We were thinking of going out for dinner tonight. It’s been awhile since we’ve all been—“
His smile fell when he saw Stede looking on edge. He came into the room, closing the door behind him. Then sat down beside him.
“What’s the matter? Another headache or did you have another flashback?” His brow furrowed in concern, “Are you having a panic attack, love?”
Stede blurted it out staring at his hands, “I saw Charlotte kissing Izzy. Not just that, I guess they’re involved? I don’t know.”
Ed only sighed, unsurprised.
Snapping his head up looking at Ed in shock, “Wait you know? That they are—. God, I don’t even know. How long?” Stede demanded.
“Awhile,” Ed admitted. “You know they’ve been close, and it just grew from there. But they’ve been, well, their feelings grew deeper before you came back as…Not-Stede. She has been planning to tell you. Timing of everything has been a bit shit.”
Stede sat in silence, conflicted. Part of him fumed. Izzy, of all people, the gruff, unpleasant man he had sparred with. But another part recognized how deeply Izzy had stood by Charlotte, cared for her, protected her. Stood by him, even, the night she was taken. By his side the whole time she was in Low’s possession. Had been the one to get her to the hospital that night.
There had been so many times that he could not be there for her. But Izzy had been, he knew that. Had even found comfort in knowing and trusting she was well looked after.
Looking at Ed feeling lost, “What do I do? I’m not mad, just surprised.”
Ed gave him a sympathetic look, “The same she did for you, wait. Let Charlotte speak to you when she is ready. I realise you and I took longer to get more open. More physical. But she isn’t doing this to hurt you.”
“He asked her why she hasn’t spoken to me,” he says softly recalling what he had overheard.
He felt Ed shifting closer to him, their shoulders brushing together, “What did she say to him?”
“She wants to give you and I time, for us to settle into our relationship. He sounded hurt.” He felt a pang of guilt, even more he felt sympathetic for Izzy remembering the pain in his voice.
“I get where she is coming from. I also know Iz, this is uncharted waters for him. They have been through a lot, we all have,” he sighs laying his head on Stede’s shoulder. “For them, with the target on her from Dominion. Their relationship is front and center.”
Stede recalls the conversation with Rupert. His advice to get rid of Izzy, about ending the affair. Clearly, Dominion is using it as a weapon. He closes his eyes, hating that he even unintentionally has hurt someone he loves.
“Not your fault,” Ed says softly as if sensing where his mind went, “just be patient. Let her come to you. She has her reasons. It’s not ideal for anyone, but it’s not exactly normal circumstances.”
“You’re right, darling,” he says. He just hopes they can figure out who is targeting Charlotte and BonaBon soon. At least then it would ease their lives a little from this weight they find themselves under.
Chapter 27
Summary:
Life was returning to a new normal.
Izzy yelling at Lucius. He comes into Charlotte's office angry about something...it's Izzy, you could spin a wheel to determine what it is this week.
Turns out, Ms. Hughes who is head of their HR made a critical mistake. Worse, she doesn't seem to think it's cause for concern. The day falls apart from there.
Once her office is quiet she sees a bug, under her desk. Not the kind that needs an exterminator.
Notes:
In an original version of this when I was first planning this story out months ago, like forever months ago. There was a longer plot line with a certain pair of Shuttlecocks. Charlotte was leading it, they called it Operation Shining.
It was amusing, but ultimately it got cut because it didn't fit when some plot shifted and I was trying to tighten the story flow. Shame, but some up coming chapters were kept just redone to fit with the current plot.
I call this another day in MI5 hell in my notes. As the next few chapters play out, I think you'll see what I mean. It's not just hell for one character. If any of them are MI5 they are not immune.
ALSO, I started adding dates. I think from here on out because I finally had to sit down and figure out where the hell we are in the year. Even for me it was getting a little mad. So, we are firmly a year later from the Bonnet Barbecue weekend.
That took a bit of an evening, my husband kept asking me why I had calendars from 1971 and 1972 pulled up on my iPad. How do you begin to even explain?
He already thought it was amusing my dive into MI5 and other British, European, and American agencies both intelligence and law enforcement (enough so that I called out a character being MI6 in a movie we watched the other night. So, the research is sinking in).
Chapter Text
Early August 1972
Charlotte was skimming through a new proposal Ed had sent over when a knock sounded at her office door. Strange, Lucius usually came over the intercom announcing when someone was here to see her.
She could hear low voices on the other side arguing then recognizable voice yelling just a bit higher than her assistant’s, one she recognized very well. With a sigh that came off more like a chuckle, she only had one guess as to who it could be. She really wished he didn’t enjoy riling up Lucius so much.
One last very loud Twatty was enough for her to interject.
“Come in, Israel,” she called fondly making sure her voice was loud enough he could hear her.
Pushing through the Israel marched in. Grumbling under his breath, “I am going to kill that twat,” and her pleased look faded at once. His expression was dark as he laid the file flat on her desk a little heavy-handed. Then proceeded to open the file, a paper inside telling her nothing. It looked ordinary enough.
Looking from it to her clearly irate CSO she reigned in her tone hoping not to set him off more. Pursing her lips waiting for him to speak, "Israel, dear…What is it that I am looking at?"
Scoffing, the one he makes when he thinks Stede is being an idiot, his eyes shift in embarrassment when he realizes he has done it. Sees the look on her face, warning him to watch himself.
Quickly he explains a tinge of annoyance still evident in his tone, “The new hire in logistics, he’s using a false identity. No background check was done. He slipped straight through, and Ms. Hughes signed off.”
Charlotte’s stomach tightened. For their business, security, logistics, contracts tied to government oversight, this was no small oversight. This was an open door for disaster, for leaks.
Skimming the information quickly she sees what he means, flicking her eyes toward him, “Where is Ms. Hughes now?”
“She’s waiting outside your office,” he motions toward the doors.
Sitting back, pinching the bridge of her nose. This was so out of character. Ms. Hughes was usually such a meticulous woman. She had been with them since the beginning.
Pressing the intercom button, “Lucius, send Ms. Hughes in.”
Ms. Hughes entered a moment later.
Charlotte gestured for her to take a seat and began, calm but clipped. “There’s a matter we need to discuss. Mr. Hands has discovered a serious problem. I need you to explain how this happened.”
Ms. Hughes sat on the other side of the desk on the edge of the seat as she peered at the document in question, chin high, her hands too fidgety for someone pretending calm. “It was a mistake, Mrs. Bonnet. A simple clerical error, I assure you. The man looked fine, his papers looked fine. I didn’t think—”
“Clearly, you didn’t think,” Israel cut in, quiet but deadly.
Charlotte held up a hand. She knew his temper, when Izzy is wound up he could be cutting. He would be relentless. From the corner of her eye, she saw his mouth pursed, his jaw tighten.
As Ms. Hughes spoke, she smoothed the stack of folders she’d brought with her, nudging them into place on the edge of Charlotte’s desk. But nothing she said justified her mistake. Her hand lingered just a moment too long, long enough to slide something beneath the underside of the desk. Charlotte saw her moving oddly but chalked it up to nervous behavior.
Charlotte drew a steadying breath. She’d always prided herself on deciding with reason, not emotion. It was the one rule she never bent. Or tried very hard to uphold, it was a promise made to Frenchie after a particularly unfortunate blow up.
Charlotte lost her temper with Frenchie after he derailed a serious budget discussion by insisting the office needed to invest in ‘emergency crystals’ to realign energy flow to increase profitability. He doubled down, absolutely convinced it was the only way to prevent future sabotage, and she finally snapped at him for wasting everyone’s time.
Warning him if he mentioned crystals one more time, he might need to invest in them to save his job. He was quite upset, as was Stede. She knew he meant well. She had apologized to him. She adores Frenchie, even his peculiar beliefs.
She knows this is a fireable offence, but she has to talk to Stede, Ed, and Izzy about it first.
Sending her home until they make a decision would be the best course of action, she knows Izzy may not agree in the moment. The situation warrants a discussion with the leadership team, not a single person’s decision.
"Mrs. Hughes, I appreciate what you are saying. But the fact remains, the man submitted a false identity. We did not do our due diligence to verify or run security checks. There is no two ways around it. Mr. Hands has clearly shown that to be the case, you know full well the severity of the matter for our business. It's leaving me and the company in a very difficult situation. You understand that considering your position and how long you have been with us."
But then Ms. Hughes leaned in, voice sharp and brittle, “You’ve lost your touch. Everyone sees it. Your wandering eye for that new Chief of Security is clouding your judgement, don't think I don't see what goes on between the two of you. Others see it to, how you carry on. It’s disgraceful. Poor Mr. Bonnet, his wife making a fool of him. And the whole company will pay for it.”
The words cracked through the air like a whip. Israel stiffened. Charlotte’s pulse roared in her ears, her chair scraping the floor as she stood up swiftly.
“Your employment with BonaBon has ended effective immediately. You leave me with no choice, you understand your actions have left this company open to severe security liabilities. I will have Mr. Bonnet and Mr. Teach go through your severance package and separation paper work. Than our head of security will assist you with gathering your belongings and escorting you off of the property."
She didn’t let herself hesitate even though she could feel the knot in her stomach, her finger jabbed the intercom button, hard.
“Lucius,” she said, her voice steady, sharp. “Send Mr. Bonnet and Mr. Teach to my office. Now.”
She was avoiding Israel’s stare, knew he was looking at her. She knew Lucius had likely already listening the whole time, but she needed them here now. She needed it done. For this to be over with.
When she looked back at Ms. Hughes, her tone was final. “You really left me with no other choice, I can’t defend this.”
Stede and Edward within a few minutes arrive both looking confused, Charlotte still standing behind her desk. She looks at Mrs. Hughes her face stoic almost statuesque, no emotion.
“Please, if you will follow Mr. Bonnet and Mr. Teach. They will see to your severance negotiations and final separation paperwork.”
Stede looks at her stunned. Charlotte doesn’t say a word, she holds out the file and report Izzy had brought to her to Ed who takes it silently. He opens it looking it over, it’s clear on his face he sees the security error. He looks at her but she doesn’t react. He looks at Ms. Hughes then to Stede who is still clearly confused.
Mrs. Hughes nods as she walks toward the two men who escort her out of Charlotte’s office.
Her heart is still beating heavy in her chest, it feels like the world around her is pushing in on top of her. Mrs. Hughes’ words echoing in her head on repeat. Relentless. Stede’s words in her head, even though she knows he was under mind control still haunt her.
“She’s wrong,” his voice is soft as he stands at the edge of her desk, “people say things when they’re upset. Nothing she said was true. I know you’re in your head about it. Other Bonnet’s words, he wasn’t our Bonnet, they’re wrong, too.”
She huffs a laugh, “How’d you know.”
“You talk in your sleep,” he says softly.
“I fucking do not,” she says quietly a touch defensive, “how would you know?”
“Made you laugh didn’t it? But I know you well enough,” he reaches out to her, she takes his hand as he gently pulls her toward him. They’re standing face to face, he kisses her forehead.
She sighs resignedly as she lay her head on his shoulder tilting her head burying it into his neck, “I shouldn’t have fired her, not out of anger.”
“Thought that was my job. The whole getting angry thing. Can’t say it didn’t piss me off, what she said. Bit of painful truth, people don’t understand. But it’s not for them to understand is it?”
She shook her head slightly. He rubbed her back then whispered softly, “You always try to do the right thing in the end. It’s what I like about you.”
Lifting her head looking him in the eyes, “Really, is that the only thing?”
Barking a laugh, “You’re fishing,” he runs a hand across her cheek then kisses her, “you know damn well know it’s not the only thing. I’m going to get back to work, you should too. Tonight, how about you and I, we do something just the two of us?”
She laughs, “I’d like that more than you know.”
Grinning as he tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, “The two idiots can find their own amusements. You’re mine for a change.”
“Be nice,” she slaps him on the chest playfully.
She walks with him to the door hand in hand. Lifting her hand to his lips, he kisses her palm, “See you tonight.”
Now alone in her office she closes her eyes, right thing in the end was to make this Ms. Hughes situation better. She turned back to her desk, and that’s when she saw it. Something just under the edge that should not be there. A bug. Not an insect, a listening device. A poorly placed one at that. Well, that’s interesting.
She walks out of her office over to Lucius who is surprisingly at his desk for a change, less surprising considering all the drama. She stands there for a moment quietly. He is clearly not working and is reading a magazine. Finally he turns then jumps, his hand on chest gasping.
“You almost gave me a heart attack. I swear, you and Edward need like cat collars with bells.”
She rolls her eyes, “I need you to have Jim come up here immediately.”
His brow furrows, clear confusion on his face, “Is your intercom broken?”
Lifting her brow at his cocky tone, usually she didn’t mind his snark but today was not the day. “Lucius, now.”
“Fine, yes. Doing it.” Clearly annoyed as if he was being put upon to do his job. He tosses his magazine on the desk then dials the security office extension. It takes a short time before he tracks them down. Charlotte waits close by with a very suspicious Lucius eyeing her.
As Jim is coming down the hall they, too, have a concerned look seeing her waiting. “Que pasa, What’s wrong?”
“There is a bug in my office,” she says matter-of-factly.
“Oh my god, seriously. You just let me sit here near it? Ugh, it’s called an exterminator.” Lucius nearly yells grossed out his voice exasperated as he scrambles up into his chair as if one is suddenly after him.
“Not that kind of bug, Lucius,” Charlotte said rather done with this whole day. “Calm down, sit in your chair.”
“Are you serious?” Jim said worriedly inching closer lowering their voice.
Charlotte nodded her head, “Mrs. Hughes placed it there. I suspect she is wearing a wire, but I can’t imagine what organization would have gotten to her or why they’re monitoring us. I need you to isolate and neutralize it. As quick as you can, we need to be sure they don’t realize we are on to them. Likely whoever it is won’t be surprised we find the bug.”
Jim nods, “Si, si, okay. I’m on it.” They head toward her office, going to the auxiliary wardrobe where the equipment is located.
Neutralizing the planted listening device, they sweep the rest of her office but find nothing else. They come back out to where she is waiting, “Just the one. It was definitely placed poorly.”
“I have to talk with Stede, wait here. Something is clearly not right. Wait here, I will send Stede for you,” Charlotte says. Jim nods heading back into the office to wait.
She goes to find Stede who is just coming back to his office, Ms. Hughes is with Ed in his going over the final forms of her separation.
Stede, as CFO, prefers to oversee negotiations and settlements of severance. He wants to guarantee that departing employees are given a generous severance.
Ed as COO handling her agreements of separation paperwork considering that Ms. Hughes had been the head of the HR department preferring to keep this from causing a ripple of gossip in the company until they have to make an announcement.
“It was rather odd. Discussing the severance I was going over our usual offerings but considering how long she has been with us, we would want to be sure to provide her with a generous amount. She kept arguing with me. Saying she only needed two weeks.”
Clear concern written all over his face, despite the charcoal suit he is still wearing to keep up appearances it’s a stark contrast to the deep kindness of who he is.
“I just can’t make sense of it. First, she makes such a vital error two years before retirement. Now, she claims she only needs two weeks. It’s not adding up, darling.”
It hits Charlotte as he is talking it through. The obvious mistake of someone so senior, having been with their company from the beginning. Someone who could quote their processes almost better than Izzy himself. A woman who is two years from retirement, only needing…not wanting, two weeks of severance.
“There was a bug in my office,” she says suddenly. He looks at her confused but before he can speak she clarifies, “you know, a bug. Listening ears. Under the edge of my desk, by where Ms. Hughes was sitting.”
It doesn’t take him long to catch on to where her own thoughts were going, “Why would she bug your office? Someone got to her, but I can’t imagine what they would expect to gain. Corporate espionage but that seems lazy.”
“I know. Maybe something else. Can you get Jim they are in my office, have them get our credential then both of you meet me in Ed’s office?” She asks.
“Of course.” He doesn’t question her knowing she must have a theory, he heads off to find Jim.
Slipping into Ed’s office, his head turns giving her a questioning look. She nods just quietly goes to his side grabs a notepad writes a note to him to just act normal. Ms. Hughes looks up from a form she is reviewing her eyes on Charlotte, she can see her surprise. Clearly not expecting to see her.
From where she is standing she can see the signs of concealed wire. It’s not done well, whoever prepped her is a rookie or has never done this before. Her blouse gave it away. The fabric bulged where no seam should where her jacket fanned out exposing her side.
She could almost make out an outline pressed beneath the silk, square and clumsy. Each nervous movement she could see her collar tug like it was being caught on something. Pulling it just slightly off center. Even her posture was wrong, she was holding herself in a stiff manner that burgeoned on unnatural as she handed back a form to Ed.
She writes another note, note for Jim — Confirmed Ms. Hughes is wearing a wire. We wil need to do a scan, they have to be close because of the short range capabilities. Locate whoever is on the other end monitoring. They’re behind that bug, as well.
When you get the signal, head out. Locate them. You, Archie, and the Level X Ops team extend them an invitation. I want them all, their gear, and any information they have now.
She leans close to Ed whispering into his ear handing him the folded note for Jim. He turns looking at her his gaze still curious full of questions but takes it giving her a nod.
Walking around the desk, she takes the seat next to Ms. Hughes who is watching her cautiously.
“Ms. Hughes, I want to tell you I reacted rather harshly. For that I must apologize, I should have not made a rash decision. It was not fair to you or the leadership team.”
As she is saying this, she is writing in the notebook. Ms. Hughes said nothing, her focus was on the notepad.
“It has always been important to me to not react with emotion, but to react with reason. With calmness. What happened in my office was the opposite. I cannot in good conscience let it end that way. It’s just not the way I have led this company. It’s not the way Stede, or I have founded this company.”
Jim and Stede slip into the office quietly. Ed motions to Jim he whispers to them then hands them the note. They read it over, look at Charlotte giving her a nod that they confirm the instructions.
Confusion is clear on Ms. Hughe’s face looking between her and Jim, but she responds, "Yes, that is true. In all the time I have worked for you and Mr. Bonnet. You have stood by that as your leadership style."
Charlotte hands her the paper, the note she was writing. She nods to it encouraging the older woman to take it. Ms. Hughes slowly accepts it, she looks down at the page reading each word.
“Your safety is my number one concern. Please trust me, we have known each other for many years. Are you wearing a wire? Nod your head in response do not speak.”
Ms. Hughes looks at her with teary eyes, she could see the shame. Clearly, all of this was more than just a mistake in process.
Charlotte continues to speak as she writes, “Firing you was rash, I understand that you only asked for two weeks' severance. I know you lost Harold only three years ago. I cannot imagine losing your spouse. The love of your life. If I were to lose Stede, it would devastate me. I don’t know what I would do if I were to lose the love of mine. You have been a devoted employee and daresay a big part of who this company is.”
She hands another note to Ms. Hughes, she turns her head to Jim waving them over.
Ms. Hughes reads the note her hand trembling.
“I’m not sure who you are wearing the wire for, what organization or what they told you. Myself, Mr. Bonnet, and Jim are all agents of MI5. Jim can show you our credentials, we work for her Majesty’s government.”
Ms. Hughes snapped her head looking at Charlotte wide-eyed she was met with a warm, reassuring smile. Jim is there, offering her their warrant cards to review. She covered her mouth stifling a sob then nods slowly confirming what Charlotte knew to be true.
Charlotte had continued speaking during this time so there would not be suspicious silence for whoever might be listening.
“We are going to offer you your full retirement pension, consider it an early retirement. We want to do right by you, obviously we this was quite a significant incident that I cannot ignore. I hope you understand. But it would be wrong of us to just part ways like this.”
Ms. Hughes silently crying, tears rolling down her cheeks, she reached out to Charlotte who shifted to her knees embracing the elder woman.
She rubbed slow circles along her back, “I wish this could have happened under better circumstances. But we want to be sure you are well taken care of.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Bonnet,” she sniffled, “Charlotte, you’re such a kind lady. If Harold and I had ever had a daughter, we had said we wish she had been like you. Said the same of your Stede if we had ever had a son. Wish more people were like the pair of you.”
“We are always here for you should you need us,” Charlotte whispered to her. She nodded signaling to Jim it was time, left the room quickly.
Sitting back into her seat, patting Ms. Hughes knee, “Mr. Teach, would you please call Lucius to have Mr. Bonnet to come back in?”
She looked at Stede shrugging. It was all a bit of a play. He had needed to hear all of this firsthand. Ed pretended to call Lucius. They waited for Stede to ‘arrive’ and as they did so made conversation.
“Mr. Bonnet will see to the arrangements of your early retirement. Mr. Teach will assist. I would like for you to take a couple of days off, the security issue is a matter I still need to discuss with our leadership team. My recommendation is we have you assist us with the transition of your replacement if you would be gracious enough to ensure they are well set up?”
“I understand. Yes, Mrs. Bonnet I would be more than happy to assist.” She nods still a bit shaky with emotion.
Stede then knocked on the door behind him pretending he had just arrived, “You wanted to see me, Charlotte?”
“After some consideration and discussion with Ms. Hughes, unless yourself or Mr. Teach has objections. Which I realize is a little after the fact now that I think of it. I have offered Ms. Hughes an early retirement in lieu of a forced separation and severance.”
She looked at Ed and Stede, knowing they would not object as they had both been present the whole time.
“No objections here,” Ed said.
Stede smiles, “Considering Ms. Hughes’ history and dedication to our company, barring recent events, I think it’s the right thing to do.”
She stands up then hugs Stede tears welling in her eyes once more. He rubs her back as he returns her hug.
“Thank you, Mr. Bonnet,” she says between sobs.
“Of course, Ms. Hughes. How about we have a seat and get this all sorted. Shall we?” She nods then goes to take her seat once more.
Charlotte rises to leave, she gives Ms. Hughes one last note before she leaves Ed’s office returning to her own.
We will have someone come down to retrieve the wire and arrange for two of our agents to escort you home. They will also guard your home, just in case. I promise, we will do everything we can to keep you safe.
Jim assigned agents to run a scan from Level X of the area for any vehicles or buildings for signals or technology that would set off an alert. Focusing on anywhere someone was likely to stake out considering the limited range for the type of bug and wire.
After they narrowed down the area. They pulled imaging and CCTV footage. They identified an unmarked van a couple of streets over that has been parked since early this morning.
Watching back on the CCTV footage, they can see Ms. Hughes leaving the van early in the morning then heading toward the direction of Bonnet Tower.
Jim and Archie along with the task force changed into their tactical gear and laid out the plan. A raid in broad daylight was riskier, but luck was with them. Whoever they were tracking had parked in an alley off a quiet street. One of the back entrances of the Tower led almost directly to it.
They’d take an unmarked vehicle from Level X, slip out, and swoop in before anyone realized what had happened. The order was simple. Swift, silent, bind their hands, black bags over their heads. In and out, no mistakes.
The van rolled into position. The Level X team pulled down their masks and goggles, readied their weapons. Once Jim gave the signal they moved like shadows, spilling out of the unmarked vehicle in practiced silence.
They hit the parked van fast. A stun charge cracked against the side panel. Light, sound, and shock rolled together. By the time the four men inside registered the intrusion, the doors were already ripped open.
Blackout hoods over their heads, hands bound, dragged out one by one. The task force worked quick and efficient, no wasted movement. No one on the street saw a thing. Within minutes, the men were loaded into the back of the Level X van, the other vehicle already ghosting away. No trace, as if nothing had ever happened.
As they drove back toward BonaBon’s hidden entrance, one captive started thrashing. His voice muffled by the hood but still dripping with arrogance.
“Do you know who I am? How dare you! You’ll regret this—I am MI5! Her Majesty’s forces will have your heads for this!”
Another captive hissed, exasperated. “Oh, do shut the fuck up, Nigel. No one want’s to hear your incessant whining.”
“Don’t you dare tell me to shut up, Chauncey!” came the indignant reply.
“You absolute idiot, don’t use my name!”
Jim leaned their head against the back of the wall of the van, mask and goggles up on their head. They could almost laugh, morons. Not only that they recognize the names as they thought “Mierda, Captain’s going to love this.”
Chapter 28
Summary:
Jim, Archie, and the Level X team are raiding a van monitoring BonaBon offices. A group of CDI show up in the lobby wanting to see the CEO, Charlotte Bonnet.
First a dedicated employ bugs her office and wore a wire. Now, she is getting a visit from Birmingham's finest by way of Scotland Yard sending over some interesting evidence...but to what?
This day could not get any worse.
Notes:
The day from hell continues.
Am I avoiding writing the final between chapters (about maybe 5-ish or so chapters left with the ending already done, almost)? Maybe, so here is another chapter drop.
Just so you all know, as I have still not updated the official chapter count I am sitting with 56 chapters plus Epilogue plotted out. I think we may top out there (maybe less once I get to the final story plot point. I know how it plays out, just have to write it in words).
Chapter Text
As Jim and Archie were raiding the van, a group of detectives approached the security desk in the lobby of BonaBon. The detectives moving with quiet authority, coats buttoned, hats in hand. The security desk pointed them toward the lifts.
A DCI led, his warrant card ready, flanked by a DI, a DS, and a uniformed WPC. Two constables hung back, watching the main entrance with practiced indifference.
Pete coming back from break noticing the detectives asks the other guard, Mike, what was happening. Mike told him that the detectives were needing to visit the executive floor. Wanting to go to Mrs. Bonnet’s office on some business.
He nods, watching the two constables. Slowly picking up the phone he makes a call to Lucius.
“Hey babe, what’s up?” Lucius’ voice came over the receiver.
Pete watching the monitors of the lift then looking back to the constables said quickly, “It’s CID. They’re on their way up to Char’s office. Not sure what is up, but just so you know.”
He hangs up the phone then resumes his work before they suspect he gave them a heads up. He doesn’t know why they would be here, but he knows one thing. He would do anything for Charlotte Bonnet. He wonders if Lucius would bail him out if he has to karate chop a Constable in the back of the head to knock them
Charlotte was in her office, trying to make sense of why someone would go to the trouble of paying off an elder woman so close to retirement. Convince her to let someone get hired with a false identity knowing that it would get flagged and likely lead to her losing her job.
Further still, when it was clear she was not getting fired. She went for the jugular. Attacking Charlotte’s marriage and her relationship with the CSO of the company. Nevermind the COO and CFO have finally figuring out their own relationship. Pretty sure they are sneaking off places to snog making up for lost time.
Leaning back into her chair, resting her head back looking out toward her office window. The whole thing feels like just another piece of a bigger plot. Olu confirmed her bank records, no payouts. So, they were going to pay her when she got fired or they have no intention.
Of course, the person with the false identity would be immediately fired and low level enough it’s not corporate espionage.
Widow. Tried to convince us to give her small severance. No payout yet. What if they planned on killing her, make it look like a suicide? That certainly would make the papers. What it would look like is the CEO of the company fired a Widow. If that was the plan, with the wire. Who knows what they would include in the note.
Another attempt to force me from stepping down as CEO, she wonders.
The buzz of the intercom followed by Lucius’ voice interrupts her thoughts, “Char, just got a heads up from Pete. CID are headed up here to see you, apparently.”
She sat up pressing the button, “You sure?”
“Yep,” he says quickly, “what do you want me to do?”
“Nothing she says. Just act naturally, we don’t know why they are here.”
Which is true. Dominion is out to get them. Clearly their someone in their company is being targeted and likely in danger of being murdered. Who knows why there are detectives coming to her office. Pretty sure it’s not about the annual donation, pretty sure they already made one this year.
By the time the lift opens on the executive floor Stede and Ed were stepping out of his office. Fang having escorted Ms. Hughes down to her office to assist her and have a nice cuppa to soothe her nerves. With instructions to wait for Jim for further instructions.
As the CIDs came round the corner, Stede came forward to meet them with clear confusion at their presence.
“Gentleman, what can I do for you? Stede Bonnet, CFO of BonaBon,” he says introducing himself.
Flashing his badge and warrant card, DCI Keen stepped forward, “Mr. Bonnet, I’m Detective Chief Inspector Arthur Keen, Birmingham City Police. Our business is with the CEO, your wife, Mrs. Charlotte Bonnet.”
Ed is close behind him, his hand flexing clearly on edge at the presence of the detectives. Stede moves a hand back just enough to touch Ed, it’s unseen by their guests. It’s enough to signal to him to be calm.
“As her husband, you can understand my concern and curiosity as to the nature of your business today?” His voice is commanding yet polite.
But before anyone answers his question, having heard the commotion and already expecting them, Charlotte emerges from her office calm but alert, heels clicking sharp against the polished floor.
The DCI lifts his chin looking beyond Stede’s shoulder in her direction, “Mrs. Bonnet?”
She meets his gaze squarely her head held high, she is the god damn CEO of this company afterall, “Yes. What can I do for you for you gentleman today?”
“I’m Detective Chief Inspector Arthur Keen, Birmingham City Police. This is Detective Inspector Hale, Detective Sergeant Carter, and WPC Morgan. We’re here to speak with you,” he says as he motions to each of the men with him.
“Of course, we can use my office.” She motions towards the direction which she just came.
Each of the men hesitate shifting where they stand. She can see clearly they have no intention of having a polite little chat here, certainly when they mean speak there is a whole other meaning. But she feigns ignorance staring them down waiting for a response expectantly.
Keen clears his throat, his tone clipped but not unkind. “With respect, Mrs. Bonnet, this isn’t a matter for your office. We’ll require you to accompany us down to the station.”
Charlotte tilts her head, her voice steady though her eyes narrow. “Detective Chief Inspector, I take it this isn’t a courtesy call. You’ve come with your men, so why not speak plainly. Are you here to take me in?”
Keen’s jaw tightens, but his words are even. “Yes, Mrs. Bonnet. We’ll need you to come with us now. Quietly.”
She exhales through her nose, straightens her skirt, and gives the faintest smile. “Then let’s not make a scene. Lead the way.”
Ed shifting near her. Stede stepping forward first, his voice measured but calm holding out his hand. “I would request you use a side entrance. She’ll not be paraded through the lobby.”
The DCI studied him, then gave a brief nod. “Very well.”
A call made to the constables in the lobby to meet them at the side entrance, arrange for the car. The group moved with restrained efficiency. Charlotte walked between Keen and WPC Morgan, her expression composed. She allowed herself only the briefest glance back toward Ed and Stede who followed. One sharp look that told them to hold steady.
At the service door, Keen cleared his throat. “Mrs. Bonnet, you are under arrest on suspicion of the murder of Edward ‘Ned’ Low. You are not obliged to say anything unless you wish to do so, but what you say may be taken down in writing and given in evidence. Do you understand?”
“I understand,” Charlotte replied, her voice even.
Ed’s jaw tightened, “Are they fucking serious?”
Stede’s hand curling into a fist steadying his own anger, but neither man moved as the detectives guided her out into the waiting car. The door closed behind them with a final, echoing click.
Silence lingered on the floor, heavy as stone. Stede turned heading back to the lift with Ed close behind him, he has a call to make.
Charlotte was taken to the nearest station, the heavy stone corridors of Steelhouse Lane swallowing her footsteps. They brought her to an interview room. Square, bare, paint peeling from the skirting and sat her opposite a tape-stained table.
The DCI who led the arrest leaning forward, reputation preceding him, the sort who relished being called the best interrogator in the division. DI Hale and DS Carter hovering at the walls both looking smug ready for the show.
“Quite the stunt, wasn’t it?” the DCI sneering, voice low and steady. “Abducted for six weeks, vanished, then conveniently reappearing just in time for your company’s deal with Red Flag. Publicity like that doesn’t write itself…does it, Mrs. Bonnet?”
Pulling back stalking the room watching her, his eyes boring into her.
“Clever cover for an affair, too. Sleeping with your now CSO, Israel Hands. And rumour has it, maybe even your COO? My goodness, quite the tart you are,” his tone vicious.
Charlotte does not bat an eye, it’s unsettling. He’s becoming rattled as she continues to stare straight ahead, no sign of emotion.
“A convenient way to drag your husband’s name through ridicule while raising the profile of the man, well apparently men, you’re really tied to. Makes me wonder if they’re in on it.”
He slams his hand on the table. His fellow detectives flinch but she still does not move. He is struggling to keep his cool, her lack of movement. Response is infuriating him.
“Perhaps it was all meant to show him as weak, using BonaBon to peddle secrets make him the fall guy, while you kept the real reins. And Low? He betrayed you, so you silenced him.”
Her eyes never move, her face still stoic. Stone-faced. Not even the flick of an eyelash. The DCI spread the photographs out grainy stills from the anonymous packet, fibres in evidence bags, a blade with her prints, the edited film strip showing the fatal blow.
“Here’s what we’ve got, Mrs. Bonnet. Enough to put you in front of a magistrate, and enough to hang questions over every deal your company touches.”
She still didn’t blink. Her silence burning hotter than a denial but not as hot as the DCI’s anger. It got under his skin. Pushing back from the table, muttering to his sergeant, and stormed to the observation room. Behind the glass, the Superintendent watching the room.
“When’s the press conference?” the DCI snapped.
“Cancelled,” the Superintendent Matthews said flatly. “Call came from very high up.” The DCI’s face soured. “Convenient.” He rapped his knuckles on the sill.
“Seems like she got under your skin. All she did was sit there,” Matthews said with a sly smile, knowing it would rile Keen up more.
“I’m just warming up, Sir. We’ll go back in, press harder. She won’t know what hit her,” his mustache twitching, he adjusted his tie.
Before he could turn, the duty officer stepped into the room. “Her solicitor’s arrived.”
They glanced out into the corridor. A tall woman in a tailored navy pantsuit stood waiting, blonde hair cut sharp, an eye patch giving her profile the look of a predator. A cigarette burned between her fingers. She exhaled a stream of smoke and said evenly, “I’ll need a private room. No windows. No monitoring. Solicitor-client privilege.”
The DCI bristled. “This is irregular—”
Superintendent Matthews cut him off. “Do as she asks.” Only garnering a glare from Keens.
Charlotte was brought out then, and for the first time since her arrest, her mask cracked. She smirked at the solicitor, “Took you long enough.”
Evelyn arched a brow, smoke curling from her cigarette. “The helicopter ride was awful. You know how much I hate flying.”
The men exchanged looks, unsettled. The DCI growled angrily.
They were escorted to a room. Evelyn didn’t wait for permission. She swept the new room herself, setting her briefcase on the table pulling out a scanner she began walking through the room.
Along the wall, the light, the chair and table. Every little spot a listening device could be placed. Hale muttered, “What kind of solicitor sweeps a room like that?”
“One whose clients are too fucking rich for their own good,” the Keen muttered his arms crossed along his chest.
Once satisfied she ushered Charlotte inside closing the door with a hard click. Alone, Evelyn’s face softened, her feral grin breaking into something genuine. “Good to see you,” she said taking another drag.
“Thanks for coming,” Charlotte said quietly. “I’m guessing it was on orders? I doubt Stede called.”
Evelyn laughed, warm and bitter. The clear animosity evident at the mention of Charlotte’s husband.
“You guessed right,” she pointed her fingers clutching her burning cigarette in hand, “But I’ve called, you know. More than a few times. Just to check on you. Lucius keeps giving me the same song and dance.”
Reaching across the table, fingers brushing Charlotte’s, thumb smoothing over her hand. Charlotte sighed. “Evie, I appreciate you check on me. But this, us, it just didn’t work. Doesn’t mean I don’t care.”
“I know.” Evelyn’s smile was sad and sharp at once. “Never stopped loving you. Even if you insist on being married to someone who doesn’t deserve you.”
Charlotte’s eyes flicked, a warning. “Be nice.”
Evelyn raised her hands. The ash growing long off the burning cherry as the smoke coiled in the air. “All right, I’ll stop. I’m sorry.”
Charlotte leaned back. “So, are we stalling? Or is it bad news? Because if they’re making a clean break and I’m swinging for killing Low… I want to know.”
“Oh, babe.” Evelyn’s grin returned, wicked as a cat with cream. Her look almost admonishing as if Charlotte should have to ask. “You’re one of the most valuable assets this agency has. Short answer? Stalling.”
Charlotte exhaled, shoulders easing just slightly. “Figures this is your favourite part.”
“Oh, it is,” Evelyn said, her grin baring teeth. “Watching their faces when they realise you’re not only MI5, but that they’ve been had? Juicy.”
Suddenly reaching into her blouse Charlotte pulls out a small hidden recorder, places it on the table Evelyn watches her slide it toward her. She looks up at her raising a brow. “Before I forget. The recording of my little interrogation with DCI Keen earlier.”
Evelyn laughs clearly amused but not surprised, “I should have known. Leave it to one of MI5’s best special agents to record her own interrogation.”
She just shrugs as if it’s nothing. A few minutes later there was a quick knock before the door was pulled open. Keen came into the room, a mustachioed grin on his face. Followed by DI Hale and DS Carter waiting just outside the door in the hall.
“I hate to interrupt tea time, Ladies. But I am afraid her ladyship has an appointment with booking,” he sneered.
Evelyn rolling her eye, her arm crossed the other propped on it she brings it to her lips staring him down. His eye twitches as she takes her time with a long inhale. His grin slowly fading as his patience is fading.
With her exhale of smoke, “If we must.” Giving him a look like he is the one holding them up. His smile and face drops then replaced with annoyance.
He looks to Charlotte, “Alright, up ya get, Mrs. Bonnet.”
Giving Evelyn a smirk she rises from her chair, he grabs her arm leading her roughly towards the corridor. His men following not far behind. Her heels clicking on the floor echoing through the hall as they walk. Evelyns matching hers as she follows.
His eye twitching as he looks back realizing she was still there, he pauses. “May I help you?”
She smiles with an amused laugh, “Just making sure my client is treated with the utmost care.”
He growls under his breath frowning at her; he doesn’t respond just continues to walk. “No more fancy outfits soon. ‘Fraid you will be given new clothes and shoes once they process you. No more servants to wait on you hand and foot,” he comments idly as they continue.
She says nothing to him. The clicking of their heels his only answer. His agitation grows still having not gotten a word from her. A duty office nearby just getting off the phone flags Hale down, he walks over to him while the others continue on. He can’t have his reputation going down because some high society bitch thinks she is better than him, sitting there straight face.
“Murderess, they go Holloway Prison. They don’t treat your types well there. Can’t imagine a pretty thing like you will survive long,” he says it more like a threat.
He hears a snort from behind him, “That’s funny is it solicitor?” Before he gets an answer, Hale is calling after him, “Sir, I was just told that Directive Superintendent Doyle has ordered us to his office.”
Keen stops looking at him in confusion. He can see the same confusion on Cole’s face. “You and Cole can see Mrs. Bonnet to booking,” he says as he waves Cole over, but before either man makes a move Hale coughs nervously.
“Sir, not just you. It was made very clear that he requested all of us. You, myself, DS Cole—” he hesitated looking at Charlotte then back to Keen who was catching on to his meaning, “Mrs. Bonnet, as well.”
“You can’t be serious,” he yells his voice echoing in the hall turning every head nearby.
Hale looks peaky, “Sir, the order was quite clear.”
Keen spun around staring daggers at Charlotte then at Evelyn. His face growing red as he continued to gawk at them before finally snapping, “I don’t know what fucking game you think you are playing. But mark my words. I’ve seen the evidence, we have you dead to rights. You will hang for murder.”
Evelyn steps forward squaring shoulders, even in heels she is taller than most men. Today she is most certainly wearing heels. Her eye gazing down at him, a hungry sneer on her face.
“I’d be very careful about the next works that come out of your mouth, DCI Keen.”
She turns her gaze to Hale who looks like he may pass out, “Lead the way.”
He nods then walks towards the DSU’s office. Cole close behind as Evelyn tucks her hand into Charlotte’s arm walking beside her. Keen just staring at them, anger still embedded on his face. Begrudgingly he follows them.
Upon arrival DSU Doyle’s secretary greets them and asks for Keen, Hale, and Cole to wait a moment while she shows Mrs. Bonnet and Evelyn into the office. Only infuriating Keen further. It’s not much longer when they are asked to come in.
As the three men enter, Charlotte and Evelyn are both sitting in the chairs in front of DSU’s desk. Each with a cup of tea, getting Keen’s blood boiling further.
“Sir, are you seriously offering tea to a murder suspect?” he yells without thinking.
Rising from his desk DSU Ernest Doyle looks both embarrassed and infuriated, “I would watch what I say, DCI Keen if you don’t want to find yourself on unpaid leave or dismissal.”
The admonishment leaving Keen reeling. He then noticed Superintendent Matthews standing nearby and another person in the office just behind Doyle’s desk to his right. A tall, steel-haired figure in a dark three-piece suit, his pale eyes sharp. Clearly a man of authority, he stood with a hand in his pocket and in the other his own cup and saucer.
Doyle clears his throat, stepping aside slightly. “Detective Chief Inspector, allow me to introduce Director Jenkins, Security Service, MI5.”
Jenkins sets his cup down with quiet precision, his pale eyes raking the room. “Mrs. Bonnet as you know her, is an agent of MI5. Any so-called evidence you’ve been handed is in fact Security Service property, tied to an active counter-espionage case. Enemies of the Crown to target Agent Stuart has manipulated that material. It will not be paraded about in a civilian murder inquiry.”
Charlotte says nothing, her gaze fixed forward, calm as ever. Evelyn stirs her tea with a little smirk.
Doyle looks over to Jenkins then back to Keen. “I’ve been briefed on this, Keen. We’re cooperating fully, as we should. Whatever you think you’ve built here, it belongs to them. A team of their agents will be here within the next hour to collect any and all evidence, files, and information related to the matter.”
Keen’s jaw works, anger simmering in his face, but the weight of Doyle’s words and Jenkins’s authority crush whatever protest he might have raised.
He then looks over a look a genuine apologetic look, “I do apologize Mrs. Bonnet. Or should I say, Agent Stuart, for any inconvenience this may have caused to you and of course your husband. You both have been pillars of our communities. And we deeply appreciate your annual donations to both The Police Dependants’ Trust and Police Widows’ and Orphans Fund.”
She offers him a smile, “No inconvenience at all, your Detectives were doing their job. How were they to know they had been part of a scheme orchestrated by her majesty’s enemies.” With that last part she cuts a quick piercing glance at Keen, it’s quick and subtle but he sees it. He grimaces as her words him full in his chest.
“You should be proud of the fine work you do here. We are happy to lend our support.” The air in the room feels heavier now, as if national security itself had just been dropped squarely on his shoulders.
The car hummed softly as it cut through the Birmingham streets, rain streaking the windows in silver trails. Evelyn leaned back in her seat, positively glowing with amusement.
“Did you see Keen’s face?” she laughed, dragging on her cigarette. “I swear, I thought the man might choke on his own spit when Jenkins opened his mouth. Worth every second.”
Charlotte allowed herself the faintest smile, though her eyes were distant watching the droplets chase each other on the glass. Jenkins, sitting across from them, remained impassive as always. He wasn’t always so stoic; she has known him a long time. Knows how much this job weighs down on the soul.
“When Stede called,” he said finally. “He brought me up to speed. Seems like you were having quite the day as it was before Birmingham’s finest showed up at your doorstep. The so-called surveillance team shadowing Ms. Hutchins? Every one of them Security Service.”
She looked over at him from the window, not that she is surprised but was hoping it wasn’t their own people.
“From what’s been pieced together, it was never a sanctioned operation. Of course, I’m sure you could have guessed that. We have no reason to monitor BonaBon.” He pauses, his pale eyes steady on Charlotte.
“It was Chauncey and Nigel Badminton. Hornberry and Wellington as well. Though indications suggest the latter two were taking orders blind, unaware they were acting off-book.”
Charlotte’s jaw tightened, a flicker of recognition burning behind her eyes. She knew those names well. The Badmintons had been Stede’s tormentors since boyhood, bullies who left marks deeper than most would ever see.
Calling him Baby Bonnet, and even as grown men they had never let him forget it. Chauncey had been worse. Once an eager suitor in her youth, more obsession than affection, lingering like a shadow before her forced engagement to Vane.
Instead, she turned to Jenkins, her voice level. “Does he know we are coming?”
Jenkins shook his head once. “Not yet. I thought you’d want to tell him yourself.” She reached for the handset mounted in the car. The cord pulling taut as Evelyn passed it to her with a smirk. Charlotte asked the operator for a secure connection.
A moment later, Lucius’s voice came through the line. “BonaBon. The offices of Charlotte and Stede Bonnet. Lucius speaking.”
“Lucius, it’s Charlotte. Put me through to Stede, please.”
A sound like the phone was dropped before Lu’s voice came over, “Oh my god, Mum. Please tell me you are not calling from inside a jail cell. Wait do they even have phones behind the prison bars? Oh gosh, they didn’t make you wear a hideous grey cotton dress because while you look amazing in anything. That would not be cute.”
She really loves this boy, but she has no patience right now, “Lu, I swear. Please put me through to Stede now.”
“Yep, okay. Mummy voice heard loud and clear.”
There was silence, then his voice—tired, edged with tension. “Charlotte. Oh, darling, are you alright?”
She exhales slowly, letting the sound of him ease the coil in her chest. “Yes, everything is taken care of and all clear. We’re on our way back to BonaBon. The Director is with me. Expect him when we arrive.”
There was silence, then a breath that sounded like relief being expelled. “Thank God. I am currently in Level X seeing to things. I’ll see you soon.”
She didn’t mention Evelyn sitting across from her, still enjoying her victory smoke. It wasn’t necessary. For now, it was enough that he knew she was coming home.
Zheng and Auntie arrived on the helicopter with Director Jenkins and Evelyn. They had been at Home Office sharing their report about new information they found on Dominion. She had tracked down Ricky Banes. He was hiding out in a country house in Kent.
Shortly after they were finished going over the finer details an urgent call came through. Which found her heading to the one place she was already needing to go. When they arrived she and Auntie took a care straight to BonaBon discovering another layer of chaos that while Charlotte was being arrested for the murder of Low.
Two people she very much wanted to speak of were currently being detained in a holding cell. She offered her assistance to Stede to interrogate Hornberry and Wellington. Both fine agents with good records, who were victims of being given orders by their superiors.
They didn’t have much information to offer mostly able to provide testimony of the actions of the Badmintons once they became involved, which had been after the bribe was made.
Auntie had gone off to find Olu to work with his team of analysts to bring them up to speed on information they uncovered with the Barnes raid.
Upon arrival Charlotte had Lucius escort the Director and Evelyn to the conference room and one of the main offices for his use. She asked that he see to having one of the agents assist him with any reports or information that he may need.
Stede was in another part of Level X, he told her, reviewing dossiers and psychological profiles of both of the Badmintons.
Charlotte found him hunched over the files, a cigarette burning low in the ashtray beside him. He looked up at the sound of her heels and rose immediately, pulling her into an embrace. Relief softened his face.
“You’re back,” he whispered, as if still not trusting it.
She squeezed his arm, steady and composed. “The Director brought me up to speed. Fucking Badmintons. We’ve got work to do.”
Sliding into the chair beside him pulling a file close to her. Together they leafed through the dossiers, photographs, and notes on Chauncey and Nigel Badminton.
“They’re predictable,” she said at last, tapping the page.“Nigel first. Jim and I can handle him. Put him in our room. He’ll fold with the right push, especially if I tell him that Chauncey said it was all his idea. Chauncey’s different. While he looks for someone else to blame but he also won’t want someone else to get credit. That’s how we get to him.”
Stede frowned, considering, “I think you might be right.”
She pressed on, her voice even. “You should take Chauncey. Use your skills, your criminology training. There’s no one better suited. He’s a bully, Stede, a sniveling one at that. You can break him down in ways no one else here can.”
He hesitated, eyes flicking to the red-marked notes in Chauncey’s file.
“You’re The Gentleman. You and I both know how much weight that name carries. That’s only because of the man behind it,” she rubs her hand on his arm, “That’s you love.”
"I am adequate," he whispers as he slowly he nodded. “You’re right. I know just the room to use.”
“Good,” she said firmly. “We’ll have the teams make preparations. Jim and I will start with Nigel, see what he gives us. You’ll be in the observation room, in the wings if we need you. From there, we build our plan for Chauncey.”
Stede reached across the desk, covering her hand with his. “Then let’s finish this.”
Chapter 29
Summary:
Izzy is raging. Which may be one of his usual states of being, but he has a fair reason to be this time. He confronts Stede in the observation room, his voice pressing the boundaries of the noise cancelling features. Or does he? He may say some things that he should have not declared in public, especially in a fit of rage.
Nigel meets Siren and Muerte. It is certainly not an introduction he ever wished to have, even he has heard the rumors and whispers about what happens when they come for you.
Notes:
This chapter is several different rewrites come together. I have to say, this is one of my favorite chapters.
Warning when we get to the second scene, it is an interrogation and implied torture/violence.
In the original, there was a bit of a push for more humiliation. But then really, Nigel seems the type who would fold fairly easy.
One of my favorite things is Bitchy Stede and Snarky Lucius, so any chance I can slip those in, it's beautiful to me.
Also, a little American Psycho nod with the plastic jacket.
The bad day is continuing, it's just spreading.
Chapter Text
“Where the fuck is he?” Izzy’s voice echoes through the interiors of Level X.
Devon, one of the Junior Agents, wide-eyed points a shaking finger towards the hall to the observatory of the Harlequin room.
“In the observation room, Agent Hands,” they say with a squeak.
Izzy growls, Ed rolling his eyes behind him. His hands in his pockets as he followed behind walking like he has no care in the world patting poor Devon on the back.
“Calm down, Lucius told you she’s back,” he said coolly.
Izzy ignored him. Marching through the door that opened into an entrance hall. There were more two doors. One marked observation and the other prep room. He opened the heavy observation room door. The rooms were heavily sound proofed to avoid interfering with an ongoing interrogation.
Glaring looking around until he spotted him. Stede Fucking Bonnet standing next to Lucius who had already managed to get down here so quickly.
Along with Zheng who was leaning against the back wall reading a file. Bonnet and Lucius were talking quietly they both finally looking up when the door closed as Ed came in behind him.
Before Bonnet could speak Izzy rushed forward his hands in his lapels pushing him back against the wall, “You fucking twat. Did it ever fucking occur to you that Edward and I,” with each word his voice grew louder.
“That we might have been concerned and worried about her still being in custody? You damn well knew we had to take that fucking client conference call.”
He could hear Ed say his name. Knew he got closer to his side. All he could hear was his heart beating in his ear.
Stede opened his mouth to speak, but he pointed his finger, “Don’t you say a fucking word you absolute Ponce. You know damn well, we were just as worried. Here we are, not sure if your fucking precious MI5 was going to let her hang for murder, let her rot in a cell. It’s been fucking hours.”
At this point Izzy had transcended beyond shouting. He was fully yelling at the top of his lungs. Impressively so. In the very back of his mind he was grateful the room was soundproof.
“You couldn’t be bothered to have Twatty here slip us a note. A single simple fucking note, she’s back and safe?” he pushes Stede back against the wall harder not enough to hurt but enough to emphasize his anger. Stede was just staring at him, not saying a word scowling at him. He could not be arsed if the man was about to fight him back.
“You know what? Others care about her if you had not fucking noticed. I know she’s your fucking wife, well fucking aware. It’s not a fact lost on me. But she’s my—” he stumbled here but quickly recovered, avoiding Stede’s eyes.
“For your fucking information, you’re not the only one who fucking loves her. I love her. You hear me. I fucking love her. I would do anything for her, so don’t think for a mo—.”
Then he hears it, a voice clearing. A voice he would know in a thousand lifetimes.
His heart plummets. He feels throat close. He turns slowly finally releasing Stede, who steps to the side fixing his shirt grumbling about the wrinkles. Audacity of some people having no respect for fine tailoring. Scrunching his nose, trying to smooth it all out.
There in the door is Charlotte. His Charlotte.
His eyes locked with hers, he can’t look away. Her jaw is tense, she looks pissed. Not just that, there is an unreadable look in her eyes, he feels it in the pit of his stomach that he may have just fucked everything between them up.
“I am pleased to inform you all, if you there was ever a doubt to quality of the soundproofing. That these rooms are most certainly sound proof but only to a point.” Her voice commanding with an edge of something he can’t quite decipher.
Everyone in the room was looking between the two of them as she continued. Her eyes clearly fixated on him.
“We have definitely tested the limit today, as muffled as it was.” He knows she speaking to him making it seem like she’s speaking to them all.
“So, if we can hold off on any further threats. And declarations of love, I would appreciate it. I have a Badminton Twin to interrogate and I’m sure you are all very aware it’s been a terribly long day.”
She smiles, it’s painted on and forced. It doesn’t reach her eyes. Not the smile he’s used to, it’s predator like, she claps her hands causing most everyone to jump.
“So, are we all tickety-boo now? Yes? Fab,” spinning around as if that was confirmation enough she pushes the door open to exit.
“Charlotte, I—” Izzy sputters, he can’t help himself.
She pauses she doesn’t look back, “Not the time.”
Then leaves.
“Oh my god,” Lucius breathes out like he has been holding it for hours, “I guess it’s safe to say she totally heard you say you love her.”
“Lucius, really,” Stede scoffs scolding him.
Izzy growls, he feels the shame of it. He fucked up. He turns to leave, but Ed stops him.
He feels his hand on his shoulder the weight shifting as he leans whispering, “Stay. You know she’ll want to talk to you after. Besides, don’t you want to watch her screw with Badminton?”
“Fine, but not a word from any of you fucking twats,” he mumbles.
“If it makes you feel any better, I declared my love to her on a mission once,” Zheng says nonchalantly her eyes never leaving the file she is reading. “It was in the middle of a gunfight. She kissed my cheek saying thanks before shooting three guys. I mean, not the worst response.”
“Anyone else want to declare their love to my wife?” Stede says bitchly.
Ed giggles bounding over to him wrapping his arms around his neck kissing his temple, “I’ll save my love declaration for later.”
Stede sighs, turning his attention back to the monitors.
The door of the observation room open and Evelyn strides in. Stede glances over, his face twisting instantly into open displeasure. The sudden tension between them is palpable, sharp enough to draw the room into silence. Ed glances back and forth between the pair, almost comically caught in the crossfire.
Even Zheng sets her file aside, raising a brow, while Izzy narrows his gaze at Evelyn, taking note of Bonnet’s immediate distaste.
With his head tilted slightly, eyes narrowed and voice dripping disdain, Stede lets the words spill out like poison. “I see you’ve crawled out from whatever rock you were hiding under, Evelyn.”
Evelyn snaps back with a glare, her tone sharp, “I’m surprised she still has you around with Blackbeard here. Since she’s such a fan of beards.”
Stede draws in a sharp breath, visibly affronted a hand on his chest.
She turns with a flick of her cigarette, tossing a wink at Zheng as she leaves. “Good to see you, Queen.”
Zheng smothers a laugh, only offering a polite nod.
Lucius, never one to miss the opening, pipes up once the door clicks shut. “Wouldn’t that technically make Charlotte the beard since—”
“Thank you, Lucius,” Stede snaps, his words clipped and sharp.
They have designed each of the interrogation rooms within Level X with the purpose evoke a feeling in the subject who finds themselves waking up within. Designed by one of the foremost minds in criminology. Each one delicately balanced to create an atmosphere that is in itself part of the interrogation process. Unlike the rooms intended for similar use, these rooms are a work of art.
The room that Nigel Badminton finds himself in, it’s special. Because this room, two of the most feared names in all of MI5 created the design (with oversight from a certain Gentleman because he insisted).
His head leaning forward, his eyes slowly opening. He felt the pounding in his head. The last thing he remembers is the room with a cot, food, and a voice telling him to eat. He and Chauncey had been captured and were now being held by barbarians expecting him to live like a criminal. He was sitting on the bed, then he felt tired.
His arms are sore, his knees on carpet a spotless beige loop pile. As his vision clears, he sees he is kneeling, wearing a pair of blue cotton pants and shirtless. Not the suit pants he had been wearing earlier. He moves his arms only to realize they are tied above his head.
Struggling his body shifts but his wrists are bound tight, there is a soft fabric around each wrist but there are leather bindings connected to…are those chains. His eyes follow the chains to a ring they are connected to clearing mounted into the ceiling.
He snaps his head forward looking around the room frantically; he is in. His heart is beating, is this hell?
The room was a nursery, but not the warm kind. The carpet was a dull blue wool, scrubbed to lifelessness. Against one wall sat a wooden toy chest, its lid neatly closed, a row of tin soldiers lined in parade across the top. A child’s cot stood in the corner, sheets tucked so tight they could have been military issue, a single stuffed bear propped against the pillow, its glass eyes watching.
The wallpaper was pale, patterned with faded lambs and storybook trees, peeling at the edges as if time had never moved here. A rocking horse waited by the skirting board, still and expectant.
It smelled faintly of chalk dust and soap. No warmth, no comfort. Just discipline disguised as care. For a man like Nigel, it was the worst kind of hell: a room that reminded him he had never been master of his own life, only a child kept at arm’s length from the world, ruled by other people’s schedules and rules.
He struggles against his bonds he yells, “Where the bloody hell am I?”
The floor creaks beneath him, he feels the bindings on his ankles. He can’t move, there is no way he can stand. He hears a noise from behind him. He whips his head to the side but cannot see past his arms. He feels the sweat on his brow, a slightly terrified soft mumble under his breath, “Nanny?”
There is only silence, cursing at himself for being so weak. He struggles against his bonds once more trying to for a weak point. He feels his anger growing.
“Do you know who I am? I am an agent of MI5, of her majesty’s service, I demand you release me. If you do so now, when they come for me I may see about them being lenient,” he yells there is almost a panic at the edge of his voice.
His heart is beating in his chest, his breath heavy then he hears the click of heels coming from a dark corner. He tries to see who it is, but they’re in his blind spot. Then another noise comes from a different part of the room, he flinches.
“I-I’m warning you. Let me go, or…or else,” he says but his threat falls flat.
A laugh breaks the silence there is a tinge of danger to its edge, he bristles as he hears the clicking on the floor coming closer. Then the voice, a woman’s voice. Low, smooth, familiar.
“Oh Nigel, I daresay. You are hardly in any position to be making any kind of threats,” she says her voice taunting him, mocking him.
He feels the anger rising up, he knows that voice. There is another noise behind him, he can feel a panic rising inside of him like the room is closing in on him. Then she comes into his view.
Her green eyes caught him, piercing and unrelenting, cool as glass. Blonde hair swept up into a smooth twist at the crown a few deliberate strands framing her face to soften nothing. She was clearly still dressed for the office, her pencil skirt and heels.
Her blouse was white silk, the kind that caught the light with every movement, soft in texture but tailored sharp at the cuffs and collar. The fabric skimmed close without clinging, a deliberate balance between elegance and authority.
There was a catlike danger in the way she approached. Poised, precise, as if she would strike at the exact second she chose.
A woman he knew well enough, having met her at many social gatherings in their youth and over the years. Charlotte Stuart had been the untouchable one, the golden goddess. Blonde, beautiful, born into wealth and position, her very name carrying weight.
The young men had tripped over themselves to orbit her, dazzled not only by her family’s prestige but by the sharpness in her smile, the promise that she would never belong to them. Because Earl Charles Vane had won her hand.
Then the object of all their desires ruined in scandal by marrying Baby Bonnet. And now here she was, standing in front of him, not a memory or a story but flesh and presence. The woman who had once been a prize on a pedestal. Clearly, Bonnet was putting her up to this.
“Charlotte Stuart, my you are a sight. A balm to ease the soul,” he presses a smile onto his face despite his unease.
She says nothing only stands there watching him, the movement behind him continues adding to his growing panic.
“This is all a terrible mess, I hate to see you in the middle of it. MI5 will be here any moment to recover me and my brother wherever he may be. You remember Chauncey?” he pauses, but she says nothing so he continues.
“Sweet Charlotte, I promise if you help me you will be safe. Bonnet is going to be arrested, they say he is a traitor to the Crown. Think of yourself. Think of your poor Father! If you come with me, I can look after you,” his voice sickly sweet as he switches his tactic.
Smiling at her, “I am an eligible bachelor, you see. Quite well regarded, you remember our fathers are friends. After a time, you could divorce Baby Bonnet, no one would blame you for divorcing a traitor. After an appropriate time, you could marry me. I could make you an honorable woman of society once more.”
Slowly Charlotte approaches him, he feels a flutter of success. He knew he would get to her, surely she is reasonable enough. What woman of society, especially a daughter of the Home Secretary would risk ruin staying married to at traitor.
He felt the heat rise in his cheeks as she drew closer to him. He felt lost in her green eyes as she was looking at him. He felt another surge of his heart flutter. She was absolutely beautiful. Wasted on a man like Baby Bonnet, he thought.
He felt the touch of her finger beneath his chin, the heat of her skin send a ripple of sensation over his body. Lifting his chin to look at her, her smile was so lovely he thought. Clearly, she knows a man of charm when she sees it.
Her voice velvety as she says his name leaning closer, “Oh Nigel.”
In the observation room Stede watches with interest, he looks amused. Izzy clutches the back of a chair like he could strangle it to death. His stomach twisting seeing the way Badminton is looking at her, how he talks about her. Stares at her.
Stede notices, he places a hand on his shoulder patting it. Nodding his chin towards the mirror, a reassuring glint in his eye.
Charlotte is a breath away from Nigel’s face, his smug, stupid face. She can feel him tipping forward on her finger leaning into her trying to get closer. He looks like the cat who got the canary.
She says in a smooth seductive tone loud enough she knows he will hear and so will the observation room, “You are…” she feels him leaning closer, “absolutely delusional.”
She pulls back swiftly causing him to fall forward, of course his bindings catch him with a tug as he ways on his knees. It takes a moment for her words to register. He looks at her his face shifting from smug to shock and outrage.
“I beg your pardon,” he bellows, his face red.
“Delusional. My goodness,” she says coolly, as she walks behind him motioning to Jim who is standing off into the shadows pulling a cart forward. “You actually thought I would just fall all over you. Beg for you to take me away.”
His face reddening in abject horror and embarrassment. Clearly not caring for being turned down and made a fool of.
“You’ll regret this Charlotte Bonnet,” he yells, saying her married name like a curse.
“I suppose they’re right you know,” she muses as Jim is handing over a few items from the cart before they make other preparations.
“What in the hell, are you going on about,” he yells, his face reddening further as he pulls against his restraints.
Impressed that he can turn that color she chuckles as she says, “Best to just rip off the bandaid.”
Charlotte has gloves in her hand as she walks back into his view followed by Jim. He looks at the plastic jacket that Jim is holding then back to the gloves, “What is that for? What is going on, I demand to know!”
“Oh, where are my manners,” Charlotte says ignoring Nigel, feigning a pout as she touches a hand to her chest as if she made such an error.
“I’m a terrible hostess. Stede would absolutely tease me for forgetting. Forgive me for being so thoughtless. This is Agent Jimenez, but you will know them better as Muerte. Of course, Muerte this is Nigel.”
Nigel stares between Charlotte then Jim. His mouth flapping open as he processes the name. Fear evident on his face as recognition floods to his mind.
“You see, Nigel, you’re in MI5 custody. In fact, you’ve been in our custody. Currently, in a black site location. Top secret,” she winks then presses a finger to her lips, “shhhh.”
Rendered speechless he stares, his body shaking as she continues to explain.
“I know. The thing of it is,” she pauses then slapping the gloves in her hands. Taking a big breath for emphasis.
“You’re not only in MI5 custody, but the custody of The Siren who is the head of this site. That’s well… me,” she waves, “Hello.”
“I-I…but, you—” he sputters.
“Oh Nigey, It gets a bit worse for you from here I am afraid to say. The Gentleman is unfortunately occupied, so he won’t be your interrogator today. But not to worry, you are in my very capable hands with the assistance of Muerte.”
His eyes went round in horror. Even agents at Home Office know the reputation of Siren and Muerte. The Gentleman would have been good news, for him.
“Oh, but I suppose it is something to worry about given our reputations,” she laughs looking over at Jim. Honestly, Charlotte knew it would probably more of a mind fuck for him to have Stede Bonnet come in just now.
He watched shaking as two of the most feared Spies in all of MI5, as Jim helped Charlotte into a plastic coat. Usually she changed into something she didn’t mind making a mess of but today just was one of those days. Besides, it really added to the flair of theatrics.
Clearly doing the trick of it from the looks he was giving them. But their guest did finally manage to find his voice and a little backbone.
“You lie! This is all a terrible farce.” He finally said with more of a squeak than the outrage he was likely going for.
Walking over to Nigel, gloves still in hand giving him a thoughtful look as Jim returned to the cart. Out of his sight they began preparing the tools. With each clink and sound he jumped, clearly rattled.
“Why would I lie? You and I both know that your little operation isn’t real,” her voice firm. He gulps watching as Charlotte puts on the plastic gloves slowly, adjusting each finger.
“W-What is all this for,” he asks again.
“Oh, these things tend to get a bit messy,” she wiggles her fingers with a smile, “I really hate to have to send this off to the dry cleaners and have to explain the stains. It’s so embarrassing.”
Lucius in the observation room rolls his eyes, “As if she has ever handled her own dry cleaning in her life.”
Jim walks over handing Charlotte a metal poker. Then they light up a torch, heating up the end. Nigel looks like he might pass out or piss himself.
Charlotte does not break eye contact as she stares at him, “We had an interesting chat with Chauncey you know. Nice catching up with him. He said that Operation—”
She pauses for dramatic effect before looking him straight in the eye, “Baby Bonnet, was it? How unimaginative. Was all your idea. You were lead on the whole fake operation. You brought him in, then the other two agents.”
Once the rod was heated sufficiently glowing the right color of red, she examined it before handing it back to Jim who disappeared behind Nigel. He tried to turn and look but couldn’t see anything. Jim had quietly placed it away from them over in a different part of the room in a secure container to avoid a fire.
Pulling on their own glove, picking up an ice cube. Then took their place behind Nigel near his back.
In a flash Charlotte takes a hold of Nigel's face with her hand, leaning close to him growling her voice deadly, “tell me about Operation Baby Bonnet. Why you started it. Who else was involved.”
He flinched, “I-I wasn’t the one,” he stuttered, “it was Chauncey. He said it was from above, official channels.”
Turning his head, squeezing his face harder giving him a warning look.
“Don’t lie to me Nigel,” she nodded to Jim. They touched the ice lightly to his shoulder before lifting. The contact was only seconds, but it got results.
He began screaming, “Contact, he was told by someone outside of MI5. Royalty, promise of money. Said we would be promoted, proper titles. Where we belong.”
Pressing his face up almost lifting her fingers digging into his cheeks, “Why?”
“I don’t know,” as he caught his breath, each word a gasp.
Nodding to Jim they brought the ice back to his back, leaving it just a bit longer. A few more seconds. His screams rang through the nursery.
“Please….they want us to ruin your business. You to step down, you’re a woman. Banes, his name is Richard Banes. Replace you with someone else. To bring down Bonnet, by smearing your names in the media. That’s all I know.”
“Who are they? Who does he work for? Why our company?” she demands.
Nigel shook his head repressing his sobs as much as he can in her grasp. She nods, and the ice is applied once more.
Nigel screams. He is shaking. She presses into his face then words begin to just tumble from his mouth like a waterfall.
“When you were abducted, Bonnet was supposed to be framed, but it failed. Bonnet went back to active service. A new chance to get him so they kidnapped him. Messed with his head. He is supposed to replace you. We are supposed to escalate it, in the news. Push you out, get Hawthorn in. Use BonaBon, Dominon wants it as a shell. Frame Bonnet. Hired a PI to follow you and Hands, get photos that look compromising. I don’t know any more.”
She waved Jim off.
“And Ms. Hughes, were you going to pay her?” her voice was calmer, she had to know if she was right.
Nigel shook his head, “No,” he sobbed.
“Chauncey said someone would make it look like a suicide. Then it would show up in the paper, you firing her a widow, destitute so close to her retirement leaving her with nothing. Making it clear you were unfit.”
Charlotte was fuming but she couldn’t let it show. Walking back to where the ice was sitting staring at it melting on the plate. She took it in her hand turning back to him. Her heels clicking loudly as she approached Nigel, he shook as she drew near.
Grabbing his hair pulling his head back, “What else Nigel. I know you have more to tell me, you seemed quite surprised to see me walk through that door.”
He gasped as she pulled his hair harder; he had the longer hair of the two. Chauncey was balding, Nigel blonde hair well down his back.
“You should be in the custody of Scotland Yard for murder,” he gasped out, tears streaming down his face.
“Why is that?” her tone clearly full of anger.
“W-we stole pieces of evidence from when Low kidnapped you. Chauncey had an analyst duplicate the video of you killing Low. Took the knife and other pieces that would show you’re guilty.”
She pulled harder, “and?”
“Mailed a letter with information about a murder of known criminal Ned Low who had gone missing. Sent several pieces of evidence over time to help them build a case enough for them to arrest you. Then have a big press conference. Add to the shame and instability of your inability to be CEO.”
Pulling harder not letting him pause for too long.
“Why go to all this trouble?”
“You’d either be saved by daddy dearest, daughter of Home Secretary, but clearly still shamed. He’d force you to leave Bonnet, you would still have to step down. Or MI5 would cut ties, leaving you on the hook for murder. You’d still be ruined, BonaBon would need a CEO. Third option, it goes away, but it’s in the paper, regardless.”
“Open your mouth,” her voice a low growl leaving no room for him to disobey. If he only knew how much they failed.
“W-what?” He said in shock, his lip trembling.
“Do it,” she hissed.
He obeyed opening his mouth wide. She put the ice in his mouth. He gagged slightly caught off guard.
“There’s the hot poker we put on your back,” her voice as cold as the melting ice now in his mouth. She storms off toward the door.
“What happens now,” he asked shakily around the ice.
Pausing her hand on the knob not looking back, “My team will put you back to sleep. You’ll be sent back to a holding cell. You’ll be given clean clothes and be able to clean yourself. Then face your sentencing when the powers at be collect you.”
With that she left the room.
Chapter 30
Summary:
Charlotte is struggling with intrusive thoughts that did not win...this time. Zheng is there to comfort her.
Chauncey meets The Gentleman.
Dread sets in meeting him. A feared name in the shadows of MI5. Whispers of The Gentleman are enough to make men look behind their shoulders. Not just because once he comes calling, it may not be long before Muerte comes. [or you get a visit from Siren and Muerte, depends on the day].
But what really fucks when Chauncey when The Gentleman finally steps from the shadows is who the man behind the moniker really is.
Notes:
Stedey B gets to show his skills.
I really wanted to use the line "I'll be your robber here today." But 'interrogator' in place of robber. It just wasn't feeling quite natural, there was an earlier missed opportunity but it also worked how I wrote out that scene, too. I did kind of slip it into the last chapter for Charlotte to kind of say it in reference to The Gentleman (Stede).
Zheng uses the name, Luò di - from what I was able to research, my Mandarin is rubbish. It's Lottie in Mandarin. Setting a tone between them you will see later in their friendship.
The no good terrible day continues, but honestly more for Badmintons than anyone.
I had a fun fact in my head I wanted to share today, I forgot it. Maybe it will come to me when I post the next chapter.
Happy talk like a pirate day! Cheers m'queers. xoxo
Chapter Text
Charlotte hurried out of the interrogation heading to the office. Nigel was low on the chain of command, strung along by his brother. But he gave them enough. She felt rattled. She could see it in Jim’s look when she grabbed the ice that they could see. Downside of working with someone for so long. Siren and Muerte are fluid.
Because she and Jim are fluid as a team.
Shaking her head as she slams through the door, it’s not even the today. Or the plot against them. Not even that smug prick thinking he had a chance at her.
What had her at edge, almost snapping was the knowledge of what Nigel and Chauncey had done to Stede. Their torment and abuse of him as children. All throughout adolescence. Abuse — physical and emotional
There was a moment in that room, she wanted to make him pay. A darkness coming over her, when she held that poker. The flash of thought to make the rouse real.
Slamming her fist onto the desk she screamed closing her eyes. Her body shaking with the rage and desperation of letting it go. Shame took over.
Hot tears stung her face.
She hadn’t realised she was crying. Her chest felt tight as she bent over grasping the edge of the desk. Her chest heaving, silent sobs wracking her body.
Intense anguish flooding into her bursting out of every seam of her being. With hot rage emanating through her tears, “Euuuggaaaaahhhhhh.”
A guttural scream echoing through the room as she sweeps her hands across the desk throwing the contents across the room.
She’s a monster, no better than Low. He should have killed her. Maybe they should have killed each other. Collapsing on the floor feeling an emptiness in her chest. One she has not felt in a very long time.
Fingers smoothing strands of her hair back, a warm palm rests on the top of her head. Pressing into the warmth her body shudders with tearless waves of emotion.
“I’m a monster,” her voice hoarse.
She feels the pressure of the hand shift as its own is moving to crouch beside her. Balancing on the balls of their feet, knees bent, their other bent across their leg considering her for a moment.
“Luò di, have to say, if that’s the case that would make me one as well,” Zheng said softly, she continued to stroke her fingers through her hair.
“If you know what was flashing through my mind in that interrogation—.“ Her words taking a defensive edge.
“I’m not going to lecture you, Luò di. But believe me, there have been times I’ve thought about crossing that line.” Her voice sounding far off as if she were thinking of her own darkest moments.
Zheng sighed, “No matter what dark thoughts you had, you didn’t do it. That’s what matters.”
Shaking her, still feeling unmoored even if the shared comradery with an old friend was helping. The silence was short-lived when it suddenly dawned on her. Looking at her friend as if finally seeing her, “Wait, when did you get here?”
Zheng leaning her head to the side, laughing the suddenness of her question shocking her. Her pigtails swaying as she shook her head, closing her eyes enjoying how oblivious one of the most feared spies she knew could be.
“While you were playing with the locals,” she smirks, “flew in with the Director. Came here while he and Evie went to save them from you.”
Charlotte snorts, “They were hardly in danger.” Zheng gave her a pointed look only making her laugh. “Okay fine, may have pissed off the DIC, pretty sure he’s doubting his interrogation skills and career choices.”
She rolls her eyes affectionately at her friend. “I’m sure. I meant to be here sooner, but I found Banes.”
That got Charlotte’s attention, Zheng reached for the file she had laid on the floor. Picking it up waving it as her evidence. “Sniveling little shit. Apparently really obsessed with Stede. Practically had a shrine built to him, he went to Cambridge with you both. Not kidding, he had photos framed of Stede from over the years. Even ones of him in them, but like at odd angles. Little keepsakes that he stole or obtained.”
Scrunching her face as she thought about their Uni days, trying to remember anyone with that name. But she was drawing blanks.
Seeing that Charlotte was clearly recognizing the name, she continued. “Well, he remembers you. Vehemently, because he claims you stole Stede. Hates you, complete obsession with you in a different way. Really disturbing. He spilled, didn’t take long. Much like Nigel, a little psychological insinuation he was singing. But he wouldn’t give us the name of who leads Dominion.”
“Really?” she was surprised considering she knew Zheng was an effective interrogator. The woman just looking at most men could get them to spill whatever secrets they were hiding.
She smirks, “Apparently, whoever they are is scarier than me. Go figure.”
Rising slowly she slips her hand from Charlotte’s head reaching it out to her, “Come on, Luò di, Auntie is here. She’s on a tear about seeing you and not thrilled by all the soft men you are surrounded by. She’s been wanting to see you as soon as I got my assignment.”
Taking her hand she pulls herself off the floor she smiles fondly thinking about Zheng’s Aunt. “Sounds about right.”
Before they leave the room, Charlotte pulls Zheng in giving her a hug. “Thank you. I don’t say it enough.”
Despite the initial shock, she folds her arms around Charlotte hugging her just as tight, “I love you, bitch. Don’t you dare say thank you, again.”
Charlotte laughed kissing her cheek, pulling away giving her a wink as she heads toward the door with Zheng following closely behind.
Chauncey woke with a start, wrists and ankles bound to the heavy chair. The restraints weren’t cruel, but they were absolute.
The Red Room absorbed the sound of his movements the thick carpet, the velvet drapes, the deep red walls. He was alone except for the steady tick of a clock he couldn’t see. Or so he thought. From the corner, a figure shifted in shadow.
“What the hell is this?” Chauncey barked, straining against the bindings. “Show yourself. Do you have any idea who I am?”
The figure did not answer. It stepped forward slowly, revealing a man immaculately dressed in a three-piece suit, posture deliberate, presence carefully curated. But his face was obscured in the shadows.
“This is absurd,” Chauncey spat. “You can’t keep me here. MI5 will—.”
“MI5 already has you where it wants you,” he interrupted smoothly.
He let the silence weigh down until Chauncey shifted, uncomfortable in his own skin. Bristling his face contorting into a sneer, “If so then you know who I am. I demand you tell me who you are. Why I am being restrained,” he struggles as if to emphasize his point.
“I do apologise, where are my manners,” his voice like honey with a sharpness the sets Chauncey on the edge.
His words like a threat, “Let me introduce myself, they call me The Gentleman.”He can hear Chauncey swallow hard, see the clear unease.
“Why would MI5 send you? I wasn’t aware they sent special agents on extraction missions,” his voice nervous, his eyes searching the room.
“You’re correct. They do not,” his amusement was clear as he picked up a folder from the desk. The shadows still covering his face. The Gentleman knew the angles of the room, how to use the light to conceal his face.
Flipping it open he thumbed through the pages knowing the contents within well. Chauncey was watching with bated breath.
His anger finally surging, his patience running thin. Even if this is the so-called Gentleman he wants answers, his voice rising, “Then why are you here, if not to free me from whoever abducted me?”
The Gentleman huffed out a laugh, clearly amused which only pissed him off more. “Abducted? Dear boy, that’s amusing, you and your brother are quite the comedians.”
Chauncey sputters slowly realizing what he just said, quickly turning to anger. His face red as he twists his head thrashing against the straps holding his wrists, “My brother? You’ve seen Nigel? Where is he?”
As if he was paying him no mind, completely distracted by the file he barely gives him a look, simply waving him off, “Hmm, oh not directly. He had the pleasure of meeting Siren and Muerte. Remarkably talkative fellow after… let’s call it a warm introduction. Hot poker, wasn’t it Muerte?”
From a dark corner another figure stepped forward causing Chauncey to jump.
“Sí, Caballero. He was very talkative,” they offered staring Chauncey down a predatory look in their eye.
Voice trembling, “What did you do to my beautiful brother?”
Tossing the file on the table, catching the man’s attention, “Chauncey, enough about Nigel. This is about you.”
The Gentleman tilted his head slightly, as if studying a specimen. “Richard Banes has already confessed. The ransom designed to frame Bonnet? He says it was your idea.”
Chauncey’s eyes narrowing, bravado slipping before he caught it. “Banes is a liar. I had nothing to do with the abduction. Neither did Nigel,” holding his head high clinging to a mask of bravado that was clearly cracking.
“And yet here you are, confirming every detail with your silence,” the Gentleman said softly. “You speak like a man clinging to a crown that was never yours.”
Poking the pride that a man like Badminton clung to, his desire to be more than he was. A twitch of his eye showing he is on the right track, he could see him slightly trembling.
“You always enjoyed control, Chauncey. Taking it, lording it over those weaker than you. But here, you’re only what you’ve always been. A small man bluffing at power.”
Chauncey’s jaw worked, his sneer breaking into something brittle. Still, he struggled to maintain the veneer of a man who held himself as better than his peers.
“But I suppose you’re just a puppet? Banes has all the power. I simply want to hear the version you prefer. Just another lowly yes man. Who is Chauncey Badminton anyway?”
Those last words were mocking, dismissive. Taunting him. Prying hard into the cracks that were now wider, exposing his insecurities. Badminton is vibrating with anger, his pride raging hot at the idea that he’s Banes’ puppet.
Finally snapping his face reddening, “They’d still be chasing ghosts if not for me! It was my intel, my plan. Bonnet became a puppet of Dominion because I leaked his position. That dreadful widow woman, her death was mine to design. Banes needed me then, he still needs me now. As if anyone believes a rodent like him is a prince, even a minor one.”
He was seething clearly not done defending his self-proclaimed brilliance, “Charlotte Bonnet. Yes, it was my idea to frame her. Taking the evidence to send it to Scotland Yard. I hired a PI to follow her and her CSO, get photos to make it look like they are having an affair. Blackmail. It’s her own fault for turning me down all those years ago. No one turns down Chauncey Badminton! And to what? Marry baby bonnet of all people. That poor excuse of a man. He’s a monster, Baby Bonnet doesn’t deserve her!”
The Gentleman leaned forward just enough for Chauncey to see the flicker of recognition in his eyes. It landed like a blade. Chauncey’s breath hitched the pieces fell together. The voice, the presence, the steel beneath the polish.
“S-Stede Bonnet” he whispered, color draining.
The Gentleman’s expression did not change, “Now you understand. And now you know how very badly you’ve miscalculated.”
Standing to his full height, standing in the light so he could get one final look. A final lasting manner, a reminder that Stede Bonnet was the one who took him down. Nodding to Jim he turning his back on Chauncey.
“Thank you, Chauncey. You’ve been more helpful than you’ll ever admit. Muerte, I leave our guest to you.”
Chauncey straining against the chair, panic overtaking smugness at last looking between Stede and Jim. The Gentleman turning toward the door, his silhouette sharp against the red walls. By the time Chauncey fully realized who sat across from him, he knew he was well and truly finished.
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