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[nineteenfortyfive]

[Better a thief than a murderer, though Claire doesn't doubt that he's killed. She imagines most here have blood on their hands, herself included.]

Lucky you.

[unmoor]

[ she's better off not knowing the numbers. ]

It wasn't by luck that I got the ship, only by coincidence. Had the captain been there, I would have bested him in a fight.

[ keep telling yourself that, Killian. ]

[nineteenfortyfive]

[Men and their duels. She just barely stops herself from rolling her eyes again.]

You must be a talented swordsman. I take it none have bested you.

[unmoor]

[ ah, nothing like a little flattery to get to him. he's a vain pirate. well, aren't they all. ]

I have lived a very long life, love, I would be lying if I said none hadn't, but I can count those who have with one hand.

[nineteenfortyfive]

[One hand, he says. One hand. Claire kicks his foot, a little harder this time, because that almost caught her off guard and made her laugh.]

You stop that.

[That's so terrible. On they go.]

How long is a long life? You must be around my age.

[unmoor]

[ and he didn't even try this time. ]

Oh? [ he laughs. ] I never actually told you?

[nineteenfortyfive]

No? Unless you did, and I can't recall.

[They do drink a lot and she might not always be paying total attention to whatever he's saying. Oops. But his age, she thinks, she'd remember.]

[unmoor]

No. You would remember if I told you.

[ truly. he leans back and makes a face. ]

It's somewhere around 300.

[nineteenfortyfive]

[And she hasn't been drinking today, so she's very, very confused by what she just heard. She frowns, searching his face. It's not a face of a man 300 years old. That would be something far different.]

... what?

[unmoor]

Striking for my age, aren't I? [ and all other ages too, he seems to add without voicing it. ] I spent a few years in a place called Neverland. No man ages there.

[nineteenfortyfive]

Peter Pan. I'm familiar, but--really? Three hundred years old?

[Terrifying. Claire scrubs a hand through her hair.]

[unmoor]

This is the part where you are welcome to call me lucky.

[ well, Neverland was hell, but he was indeed lucky to keep his handsome features. ]

[nineteenfortyfive]

I don't know if that's the word I'd use.

[Everything is just confusing.]

And you know about the stories, of Neverland? It's fiction. Where I'm from, at least.

[Vaguely, she remembers that a Scot wrote it. Of course.]

[unmoor]

Handsome, then?

[ oh she's not kidding now. okay. his smile fades a little. ]

I'm quite real, aren't I? You kissed me not too long ago, you should know it. [ heey. ]

Ah, to put it short there was a powerful curse and our lives in the Enchanted Forest became stories for this one. Other unpleasantries also took place, but what you should know is that I'm not alone in here.

Do the names Robin Hood or... [ he tries to come up with a good one. ] The Evil Queen mean anything to you?

[nineteenfortyfive]

I don't question whether you're real or not. And I know Robin. He's a friend of mine, but... I also know the story of Robin Hood and his merry men. [That crease in Claire's brow is likely to stay there with how pronounced it is.] And I'm sure this Evil Queen has something to do with Snow White?

[It sounds crazy, but so does traveling through time through magical stones and living in a city powered by intimacy.]

[unmoor]

Then what's the issue here?

[ said crazy stuff is everyday life for him. he nods. Snow White is very involved in all of this. ]

Surely discovering my age isn't the weirdest thing to take place here. The stories are quite real, love. Not all of them truthful to what actually happened, but I am a living proof.

[nineteenfortyfive]

[Here it comes. Now's the time.]

Please don't tell me it was a crocodile.

[unmoor]

[ ah... ]

In a manner of speaking.

[ there goes his fun. ]

[nineteenfortyfive]

[Oh, Christ. Claire sits there with her mouth open slightly for a heartbeat, then shakes her head.]

I apologize, Killian. It's none of my business.

[Claire Fraser. Code name: Debbie Downer.]

[unmoor]

I do call him a crocodile from time to time. After all he's as foul as any reptile. The misunderstanding is understandable.

[ :| ]

[nineteenfortyfive]

A man did this to you. [No question. Slowly, Claire reaches over to touch his sleeve, the one she tends to avoid. A hook is better than nothing, especially on a ship, but it's still rather crude.]

Did you kill him?

[unmoor]

[ well, yes, but he'd prefer to call him a monster. now Milah hasn't been brought up so he's just cold, not emotional like last time. ]

You already know the man I speak of.

[ so no. he's very much alive still. ]

[nineteenfortyfive]

What? [She looks up from where she's left her hand on his arm.]

[unmoor]

[ he bites his lower lip, wishing there was some way to explain this to her without words. he finds himself struggling with this story every time. ]

The same man who killed the woman I loved.

[ oh there we go. ]

[nineteenfortyfive]

[Oh. There we go indeed. He lost his lover and his hand all to the same man. Claire opens her mouth to say something, but what? What could be said?

Her lips press together. Maybe an apologetic silence will suffice.]