crystenjms
The soft golden light of the lantern cast flickering shadows over her red hair. The gentle waves glimmered in the glow. His hands itched to touch the light caressing the tresses. At least until his eye was caught by the line of the shadow on her slender neck.
For her part, his molten brown eyes held her captive. She knew that this entire situation was entirely improper, but she could feel his eyes burning over her skin causing her breath to catch and hold in her throat and a shiver to start in her fingertips. She fought it, but with the dim light of the lantern, their world seemed to only extend in five feet in any direction and eventually she gave in to the moment.
The Lady Love was an old ship, more commonly referred to as the Limping Lollygagger, for her habit of showing up late and with something else broken after all the work was done. Her crew was even older. The grizzled cast had been raising the sails and stowing their chatter for far longer than most of the crews of the Death Ships. But there was still that rumor... that hint that they might be something more than the age weathered and lounge about folks they seemed to be. For though Lady Love was old, and could use a new coat of paint, the rigging was perfectly so, and they were never caught in a fight unless they meant to be. And that just wasn't heard of very often.
Being The Generator was hard. Everyone always looked to you if something went wrong, and it always did. It was the way things went. The lights flickered? What's wrong with the generator? Oh, the microwave died? Must be something wrong with the generator. It got so hard to be the one that everyone came to. Eventually I just gave up the ghost. Left the world in a cloud of foul smelling, dark smoke. And good riddance, too.
Clue Montegomery hated her name. Despised it if she was totally honest. People always made fun of her for it. Especially since she'd started her P.I firm. "Clue's looking for clues again." was a pretty common refrain. And it wasn't even that clever.