Hal didn’t even pause in his conversation so much as shift himself so that he remained with his back to Flint and his body between the captain and the individuals to whom he was speaking. Some days being the man’s quartermaster was as the job ought to be – companionable, with a hefty weight of respectable responsibility. Other days, it was like dealing with toddlers all over again – and Hal was not in the mood for one of those days.
Once his business was concluded ( and not a moment sooner, and without so much as a hint of a rush, either! ) Hal turned to Flint and smiled, “Ah good, you’re still here,” As if the man breathing down his fucking neck hadn’t been a clue, “We’ve some good business settled with the warehouses now, so we ought to be well stocked this trip.” Considering their weak hauls of late, managing to secure excellent stores was a testament to his own reputation and he bloody well knew it. “Now, what was it you were needing captain?” Aside from attention, went wisely unspoken.
Ocean Archive 