"She's running in those heels? Seriously?"

 In honour of Valentine's Day, I'm going to attempt to turn into a sap and post a Valentine's story. This isn't the one I really want to do, I can't do that one on account of spoilers. But, maybe next year. This story answers a question Peter had in Haphazardly Implausible. Do Air Pirates really have a girl in every port?
 But, anyhow, Happy Valentine's Day.
 A Girl In Every Port?
 Sometimes being dashing and famous had its draw backs. Sometimes. Or maybe being dashing and handsome and famous - not to mention French - should have had its draw backs. After all, he was six feet tall, had great hair, brown eyes - and everyone knew brown eyes were soft and deep, holding many secrets - and he wore an eye patch. Add all that to his sense of fashion and girls should have been chasing after him, or at the very least baking him cookies.
 Captain Shamus Steed stood on the Air Pirate docking port and looked at the jagged cliffs surrounding him. Scotland held one of the best ports in the whole world, one which was not only well hidden from prying eyes but which was built directly onto the side of a mountain. Boardwalks led up from the docks to the taverns and trading houses above.
 "You know we really don't have anything to trade with." Darcy stood at his side, hand in pockets, eyes scanning those milling about the suspended docks.
 Steed scowled because he had no comeback. He knew it bad policy to discuss personal matters with younger siblings, especially when such matters involved the young woman who stood a few feet away. Eva. She had no last name, at least none that Steed had been able to find. He'd seen her  here more then once, but had been able to learn little about her. He didn't even know if she worked in one of the taverns or if she was an Air Pirate herself. He couldn't even gather anything from her clothing. It was a known fact all Air Pirates had an impeccable sense of style, yet all he'd ever seen Eva in was a simple brown dress and tall black boots, her dark brown hair worn loose around her shoulders.
 "Yes we do," Steed took his eyes from Eva and turned part of his attention to Darcy, "we have all those eggs we stole."
 Darcy winced, one eyebrow twitching. "Please tell me you're not being serious."
 "Why wouldn't I be?" Steed demanded.
 "We're Air Pirates, big brother. We have a reputation to uphold. Do you know how bad it sounds to walk into the trading houses with eggs and tell everyone we mistakenly attacked a farmhouse and that was all we could get away with?"
 Steed had no reply for that. Instead he pointed back to the Black Beard. "I'm going to start some transactions. Go back on board and pack up the eggs."
 "You can't be serious," Darcy groaned, but obediently turned and marched back to the airship.
 Once he was alone, Steed did his best to fix his hair, then smooth out some of the wrinkles in his coat. He looked back at Eva and put his most charming smile on. No matter what, he was determined to at least get her last name today.
 Squaring his shoulders, Steed swaggered over to the young woman. She hadn't moved much, standing near another Zeppelin, her sea green eyes darting about as if taking in everything. Everything but him. She didn't even look up when he stopped in front of her. Steed had to clear his throat twice to get her attention.
 "Hello," he said when the sea green eyes met his brown ones. He laid on the French accent extra thick, just to be safe.
 "Hello." Her voice was light, soft, and yet it held something almost lethal to it.
 Looking into those eyes, which gave him no hint as to what kind of girl she might be, Steed's mind almost went blank but he forced himself to stay focused. He was French, after all. Charm came as easy to him as eating pastries.
 "My name is Captain Shamus Steed," he said, bowing rather then holding out his hand for a shake. 
 "Eva," she answered as he straightened back up. Not what he'd been hoping for. He couldn't even place her accent.
 "Eva," he repeated, rolling her name off his tongue to an attempt to make it sound like the sweetest word since croquembouche. (A cream puff covered in caramel.) "What a beautiful name." As he spoke he reached out, took her small hand in his, and kissed it. She didn't resist, nor did she willingly move her arm. In fact, she just stood there, not one form of expression crossing her face.
 "Hm," she murmured.
 Steed realized he was slipping fast. He released her hand and cleared his throat. "Are you here for the trades?" he asked, motioning to the airship behind her.

 "Yes."

 Finally! He had something.

 "I am too," he smiled, "that is my ship over there." He motioned to the Black Beard with grandeur.

 "I see," she said.

 "My crew and I just returned from a - raid." He tried to keep himself from stumbling but wasn't sure what to call it. Did one call it a raid when they mistakenly stole chicken eggs?

 "Good for you." He still couldn't place her accent, though it encouraged him a little over the fact he was getting more words out of her.

 "Some of us almost didn't make it," he said, laying his hand on his sword. This was partly true. On the way out of the hen coop Alfie had smacked his head on the door frame, fallen into a nest, and almost got plucked to death by an overly fat hen which would have made someone a nice dinner. He might not have made it if Darcy hadn't saved him. Both had the bandages to prove their skirmish - Darcy's wound on the hand and Alfie's right above the eye.
 "Hm."
 That blew it. Now they were back to one word sentences.
 "Who is the captain of your airship?" Steed ventured. "Maybe I can talk to him about doing some trade."
 Eva's eyes finally showed something, and it wasn't something Steed had been hoping for. It was a cross between insanity and the look Darcy got whenever things got especially dull on board the Zeppelin.
 "The captain is lost," Eva said. Her voice dropped lower and her eyes darted from side to side.
 "Lost?" Steed whispered, not sure he wanted to know.
 Eva leaned closer."Lost. We lost our captain." She grinned almost deviously.
Five words out of her, and Steed was suddenly wishing they could go back to one. "How do you loose a captain?" he ventured.
 "By taking him fishing," her grin widened, "want to go fishing, captain?"
 Steed moved back as fast as he could. "Um - no, no thanks. I'm not much a fisherman. I usually, you know - avoid fish."
 She moved closer. "Fishing is fun. Maybe we can find a captain."
 Every muscle in Steed's body was posed, ready to turn and run, but before he could do so someone shouted from the Zeppelin behind them.
 "Captain!"
 Eva turned and looked at a man dangling from a ladder swinging under the airship.
 "What?" she called back.
 "We're ready to start unloading."
 "Be right there!" 
 Steed stared in opened mouth amazement as the man scrambled back up the ladder and Eva turned to smile at him. All insanity was gone from her eyes and the blank look was back.
  "Bye," she said, then turned around and climbed up to her airship. Steed didn't move, just watched as her billowing skirt vanished into the ship. How long he stood there he wasn't sure, but when someone laid a hand on his arm - causing him to jump and have a mini heart attack - it felt like hours.
 "Steed?" Kirk was at his side, two baskets of eggs at his feet.
 "What?" Steed gasped, trying to not look as if he'd just almost fallen over from fright.
 "We're ready. We have all the - eggs."
 Steed peered down at the basket and blinked. "Oh, eggs. Good. Eggs are good."
 "Are you okay?" Kirk looked at him closely. "And what are you doing standing near Eva's airship? Haven't you heard, she's a little - batty."
 Stooping over, Steed picked up one of the baskets. "That's putting it mildly. Come on, lets get rid of these eggs and get out of here."*** Happy Valentine's Day! Quote is from Psych. It actually reminds me of a friend of mine who ran in heels, very high and dangerous ones.

 Allons-y!