You didn’t notice the Captain until she stood at your side and began to speak. “Hey. Be honest with me. Have I missed something? On my own ship? Again?” She asked, looking over at you.

“Dè th' ann, a Ghràidh?” You asked as you looked up.

“Because Cook is… excited. Cook is never excited. The closest he gets to excitement is anger, and that’s a daily occurrence. Instead, he’s happily twirling around the Galley. It’s very disturbing.” Cass replied, frowning.

“Is he having an episode, do you think? He’s always been an anxious man, maybe he’s finally… y’know, tipped over the edge?” Cass worried, leaning closer to you.

You shook your head and she continued. “He keeps muttering about ‘creative liberties’ and ‘finally getting to cook what he wants.’”

“Have you ever told him what to cook?” You implored, only for her to quickly shut it down.

“No, I’ve never told him what to cook. My love, I wouldn’t dare tell Cook what to do with his food. I accept my dinner and say thank you like a good girl, and leave him to his business.” She responded quickly, like she was mildly offended at the thought.

“Maybe we need an intervention?” You offered, looking up at your live and brushing some of her curls behind an ear.

“What’s an intervention?” Cass asked, tilting her head into your touch.

“Somebody goes and asks Cook what he means? It it really that serious, though?”

“Umm, uh, maybe. It kind of is that serious, though? He was smiling. Like a lot. Hold that thought. Gregory!” The Capitan called, catching the attention of her First Mate.

“Is this about Cook?” The man asked as he approached. “Yes. It is.” She replied. “He’s been talking of a party. A scary party.” Gregory replied, watching the Capitan’s confusion. “That’s a new one.”

“Go ask him what he’s talking about.” Her First-Mate suggested.

“I’m not going to go ask him what he’s talking about, you go ask him!” He refused, saying she was the Capitan. “Exactly, I am the Capitan, which means I can tell you to do it!”