Deja Vu

~Year 1913~

Scott English, the heartless owner of Saint María ship, had ordered his crew to lead Irene out of the deck and onto the shore after she had regained from the tragic accident that had happened to her in the ocean, for Scott English believed that the rough waters weren't a place for a lady.

But he didn't know Irene.

She wasn't just a woman.

And she definitely wasn't one to give up.

"ALL ABOARD!" Callaghan shouted and by his command, all the crew made their way on the deck of Saint María ship.

By a knock on his door, Scott English finally looked up from the map he was observing on his desk as he was standing on his feet.

"Come in." He said, looking back down at the map again.

The door opened and one of his youngest men of the crew, Smith stumbled inside.

"The new crew are on deck, Captain." Smith informed. "Do you wish to meet them."

"Not now, Smith." Scott English shook his head, not removing his eyes from the map before him. "Get the ship going. I'll attend to them later."

"Aye, Captain."

"Tell Callaghan that we are headed to north. You're good to go, Smith."

"Yes, Captain." And by that, Smith exited the room and closed the door behind himself.

A few hours had passed and Scott was finally done with his work, which is why he decided that it was finally time to meet his new men and teach them where their loyalty must lie.

"CAPTAIN IS COMING!" Someone shouted before Scott could get the chance to walk on the deck.

He could hear the uneasy state of his crew, running and rushing all over the place to stand in a good spot for when their captain would come.

Scott English stood still and gave them enough time to adjust before finally opening the door and walking on the deck with his hands laced together behind him.

Everyone was standing straight to show their full respect to their leader, except for Callaghan who, with a few papers in his hands, walked alongside Scott.

"Where are my new men?" Scott asked, his eyes observing and studying inch by inch of his ship to check if everything had been in order.

"Right over there, Captain." said Callaghan, leading Scott to the end of the deck where four men were standing straight and proud.

"Introductions?" said Scott English.

But before the first man could open his mouth, Callaghan broke him into it and introduced them to the Captain.

"That's Jonathan Pierce, Sire." said Callaghan, pointing his head at the man to the left.

He had broad shoulders and a long black beard, his tall feature proving Scott English that he could be useful in the sailcloth section.

Callaghan opened his mouth to introduce the next person, but before he could get the chance to speak, Scott raised a hand to silence him and to stop him.

This was because the third man in line had grabbed his curiosity, as he was wearing a large hat and had dropped his head down, preventing Scott to get a glimpse of his face.

Scott walked slowly toward him and stood before him. "Raise your head up." He demanded.

And so the man had no other choice but to do so.

He had a golden beard, matching the color of his long hair which had been tight up in a ponytail. That hair was weird for normal people, but not for a sailer on ship.

"Look at me." Scott English snapped with authority and so the man looked into Captain's eyes.

Scott recognized those blue eyes immediately and his gaze narrowed at the short man before him, his teeth gritting against each other from anger.

"Follow me." He commanded and started walking away, not waiting for Callaghan to introduce the rest of the new crew.

The short man with golden hair had no other choice to follow Captain to his room, having all eyes attached to him as he followed him on the deck.

They entered the room and Scott English closed its door after checking if anyone had been eavesdropping in the corridor, and then turned toward the man.

He walked closer to him and when he reached him, Scott took ahold of the man's beard and snatched it off his face, for he knew it was a fake beard.

When the person before Scott English looked up at him at last, Scott saw none other than the woman he had saved a few days ago.

Irene.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here!?" Scott snapped at Irene.

"I had no other place to go." She reasoned, worry written all over her face. "Please, you have to accept me here!"

"Ocean is not a place for a lady!"

"I can handle it! Besides, you can't just drop me into the ocean, now, can you! We're already away from the shore."

Scott looked into her pleading eyes, but before he could retort, Irene spoke again.

"Just give me chance. I'm a hard worker."

Scott closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. But at last, he gave in. "Fine!" He snapped. "But you're keeping the beard on! I don't want anyone to know that I have a woman on crew!"

"In no time at all, I'll prove you that, that's not a bad thing; to have a woman work for you."

And Irene kept to that promise.

She worked hard and harder, day after day, impressing Scott English with everything she did and every strain she had.

Some would've had said that she was slowly melting his stone-cold heart...

And that was exactly what Irene wanted.