“I only asked you to get a bucket,” Johan’s deep voice boomed across the deck. “How did you even manage to screw that up?”

It turned out that when Johan was furious, he could actually speak a lot.

“I didn’t screw it up,” Cas shot back. “I did get you a bucket.”

Johan threw out his burly arms. “Obviously I meant a bucket without holes in it!”

Cas’ new life as a cabin boy was off to a rough start. The long, soapy trail across the length of the deck, leading to his nearly empty bucket, provided the indisputable evidence.

This was the most recent screw-up in a series of disasters. On Friday he had knocked over a chamber pot and spilled its dreaded contents across the floor. On Monday he had misunderstood the concept of rations and ate all the biscuits. And yesterday, he had somehow managed to set one of the lifeboats on fire.

Johan let out a long groan, burying his face in his hands. “Just get another one.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Cas replied, letting out a little huff and dropping the bucket for the sole purpose of pissily crossing his arms. “I’m still a prince.”

Johan simply met him with a long, blank stare. “Prince or cabin boy, everyone is the same when they’re six feet under.”

Cas’ head fell back with a sigh. “Ugh, fine, I’ll get another bucket.

“Chop-chop, mermaid,” Johan called after him as Cas made his way reluctantly towards the stairs.

Cas flipped him off before vanishing into the belly of the ship.

Obviously, Cas hadn’t expected the transition from decadent prince to physical laborer to be an easy one—but Gods, did this suck. Everything hurt. His shoulders and arms ached, his joints were sore, and his hands had grown red and raw from scrubbing every inch of deck. He seriously needed a break.

Which is why, instead of actually carrying out the task he'd been assigned, Cas stealthily navigated through the cramped passageways of the Scarlet Mamba. The wooden panels beneath his feet were uneven, creaking with every step. The air was thick with humidity as the pungent aroma of spices and simmering stews grew stronger, wafting in from the galley. Cas glanced over his shoulder, making sure the coast was clear. Then, with a grin, he slipped inside.

The galley was compact and dimly lit, the only source of light coming from a feeble lantern suspended on a hook. A small metal stove dangled precariously from iron chains that hung from the exposed wooden beams above, swaying with each shift of the ship. The head of a small, withered woman popped up from behind a stack of pots, her wrinkled face illuminated by the lantern’s flickering light.

The Scarlet Mamba’s cook beamed at Cas, her mouth pulling wide into a warm, toothless smile. “Little Castian, hello!” she rasped. “I thought you might be paying a visit, so I saved these for you.”

Her weathered hands slipped into the pockets of her apron, removing a handful of brightly colored candy that she pressed into Cas’ palms.

Cas beamed, popping one of the candies into his mouth. The sugary confection melted on his tongue as he lay his head against her shoulder. “Oh, Grammy Peony, you’re the only one here who’s ever nice to me.”

Peony let out a soft, gravely chuckle, ruffling his hair. “I’m sure that’s not true, my boy.”

“But it is,” Cas pouted. “Everyone hates me.”

Peony shook her head, continuing to stroke his hair. “Oh, little Castian, no one hates you—”

“CAS! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?” Johan’s voice boomed through the ship. His tone didn’t exactly back up Peony’s statement.

The thud of approaching footsteps sounded from outside.

Cas froze, his face going pale. “Shit.”

Frantically, he grabbed a pot, shoving it over his head as the footsteps continued towards the kitchen. Each hit of Johan’s boot against the deck beat a drum in his death march.

Finally, Johan burst inside. “Where the hell is that horrible blue sea-goblin?”

Cas’ blood ran cold. He was unable to see anything beyond the darkness of the pot. “Psst, tell him I’m not here,” he whispered, his voice muffled and echoing from within the metal confines.

“Castian… is not… here,” Peony repeated in the most wooden and unconvincing performance of all time.

"Mm-n," Johan replied, his voice low and dripping with skepticism. Even from within the darkness of the pot, Cas could sense the intensity of his gaze seething into him.

The silence in the kitchen was palpable, broken only by the sizzling of stew in the pot. “Well, hopefully, wherever he is, he’s not stupid enough to be avoiding work.”

Cas swallowed hard.

“If you see him,” Johan continued, his voice still focused in Cas’ direction. “Make sure he knows that he has exactly three minutes before I get the captain. Hopefully he remembers what the words ‘immediate extermination’ mean.” And with that, Johan stomped away.

Cas decided he had actually preferred it when Johan hadn’t been speaking in full sentences.

The moment Johan was gone, the mer-prince flung the pot off his head, pausing only to place it carefully with the others so he wouldn’t cause Peony any more trouble. Then he leaned forward, pressing a light kiss to the elderly woman’s cheek.

“Grammy Peony, light of my life, thank you so much for the candy,” Cas said with a bow. “Now, unfortunately I gotta skedaddle before Val turns me into sushi.”

Peony chuckled. “Just don’t let him catch you, little Castian.”

“Don’t plan on it,” Cas replied with a wink as he took off racing. He wouldn’t be dying just for being a lazy asshole, no sir, not today.

Cas bolted from the kitchen and down the passageway, counting down the seconds until his three minutes were up. He skidded to a halt in front of a pile of buckets, lunging for the nearest one. 100 seconds, 99 seconds, 98 seconds. Desperately, he flipped it over, this time actually checking for holes. Seriously, who the hell keeps a bucket with holes?

Once confident there wouldn’t be a repeat of his previous screw up, Cas shoved the bucket inside the water barrel with a thunderous splash. 70 seconds, 69 seconds, 68 seconds.

Water sloshed over the bucket’s sides as Cas took off running, the coarse rope of the handle biting into his palm. He bounded up the wooden planks leading to the deck, taking them two at a time. 40 seconds, 39 seconds, 38 seconds.

The bright afternoon sun flooded his vision causing Cas to wince as he burst onto the deck at full speed. 29 seconds, 28 seconds, 27 seconds.

He dodged and twisted around the other crew members. First he skidded past Jasper, who stumbled out of the way. Then he ducked beneath a massive sword balanced on the shoulder of a woman with braids that reached her feet. Finally, he slid between the legs of a man with the literal head of a tiger. Cas still didn’t have the full story on that guy yet.

15 seconds, 14 seconds, 13 seconds…

He was almost there! Only a few more frantic steps and he’d make it in time, keeping him safe from the wrath of Valentine!

But, of course, that’s when disaster struck.

Cas slammed full-force into a muscular chest, the impact sending him toppling backwards. As Cas smashed into the deck, his bucket was sent flying, hurling through the air.

Cas shot to his feet and lunged desperately for it. Unfortunately, a tidal wave of water exploded from the bucket, completely drenching the man before him.

Fuck.

Cas shrank back as ice-blue eyes glared down at him, fury blazing in their owner’s gaze. Valentine was soaked, water dripping from his face and hair. His shirt was plastered to his frame with its poor ruffles clumped together, making for a rather pathetic sight.

“Oops! Sorry!” Cas stammered, clambering backwards on his hands and knees, his heart thundering in his ears. “Uh… so that was definitely my bad. B-but, err… please don’t kill me. Y-You look pretty damn good in a soaked shirt, after all. If anything, it’s… uh… just showing off the goods.”

He gestured wildly to Valentine’s chest, the shirt clinging to the perfect contours of his torso. “You totally pull it off. Keep walking around in wet clothes and you could really turn it into a fashion statement—Eep!”

Valentine grabbed Cas roughly by the collar, yanking him onto his feet.

“Do you ever stop talking?” he asked, droplets of water still rolling down his face. “I mean that as a real, legitimate, question. Do you ever think before you speak—or even attempt some form of comprehensive thought about when would be an appropriate time to just close your mouth and shut the fuck up?”

Cas flashed him an awkward smile. “Not really, no.”

“Gods,” Valentine snarled. His grip on Cas’ collar tightening as he yanked him onto his tip-toes. “You have got to be the single most annoying, whiny, obnoxious, infuriating, stupid…”

Valentine continued listing off insult after insult in rapid, merciless succession. The rant droned on for so long that Cas zoned out, tuning back in now and again only to make sure he looked appropriately scared so Valentine wouldn’t become even more furious. Cas had just begun thinking about what they might be having for lunch today when his gaze caught on a purple splotch in the distance.

The mer-prince squinted at it, his eyes narrowing in confusion. “The hell is that?”

Valentine let out a dry bark of a laugh. “Lover, it’s a little insulting you think I’m stupid enough to fall for that.”

“Listen, Val,” Cas said, his heart rate speeding up.

The splotch shot through the water, growing closer and closer at an alarming rate.

“I may have a handful of opinions about you,” Cas continued, “and yes, a good chunk of them aren’t so positive. But believe me, I know you’re not an idiot. There seriously is something coming—”

Cries of alarm rang out across the deck from the other crew members. Valentine released Cas’ collar, dropping him against the planks. As the captain spun around, his gaze locked on the source of the commotion.

“Shit,” Valentine muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Not again.”

“Not again?” Cas repeated, gasping. “What do you mean, not again—”

And that’s when a massive tentacle struck the deck directly in front of him.