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unchartedterritoria · 6 years

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Dangerous (Sam Drake x OC) - Chapter 19

Man, the holidays really gave me a wicked case of writers' block! Things are looking up now though! New chapter! Sam learns about ‘edutainment’. Comments are always appreciated!

You can read it and previous chapters on A03 if you prefer:

A03 Chapter 19 Link

Faith and Sam spent a week searching every private estate erected before 1865 in Key West. Every day started the same. Sam made a coffee run while Faith showered, then she poked fun at whatever garish Hawaiian shirt Sam had chosen to wear while they plotted out which properties to explore and research that day. In the afternoon, they went from house to house, property to property, hoping, praying that something, anything would link between its history and Dr. Samuel Mudd. They ended each day at Mallory Square, the harbor that served as the center of the town, and watched the sunset with the rest of the locals, while they drank Coronas and hoped the next day would bring some piece of evidence.

As each day passed without a lead, Sam grew weary. They hadn't found a damn thing; Nothing even remotely close to a clue. He also knew that Jasper and his men would eventually find out where they were. Jasper was an asshole, but an asshole with a lot of power and a lot of money, two things that Sam knew would make anyone talk. He suppressed the worrisome thought and kept it to himself. Sam was sure that Faith had already thought of it and he didn't want to remind her of it.

With the morning came a new week and a new plan.

“Museums,” Faith declared, “We hit every one of them and see what we can learn.”

"Good idea. I like museums," Sam said, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“No stealing,” Faith ordered, pointing at him.

“What? Me?”

“Yeah, you.”

“C'mon. Whaddya take me for?”

“A thief,” Faith replied as she finished tying her shoes.

“I promise I'll be a good boy,” He assured her as he stuffed his wallet in the pocket of his jeans. “We wanna keep a low profile, right?”

“I think you blew that plan out of the water when you put on that shirt,” Faith said with a sigh, giving him a clap on the back as she opened the door to their room and headed out into the bright sun. Sam grabbed the hem of his shirt, a loud orange number covered in a pattern of beer bottles in front of yellow suns and palm trees. He looked down at it with a frown.

“I happen to like this shirt,” Sam said to himself while he stalked out the door on her heels.

“That was not a museum.”

"Yes, it was!"

“That was a sideshow!” Sam insisted.

“Didn't you see the stuff they had?”

“I'm sorry, I was a little distracted by the guy dressed as a sea captain yelling 'Wreck Ashore!'”

Sam absently patted himself down while he stalked down Duval Street, the main artery of the island. As Faith kept pace next to him, she laughed to herself. The Pirate and Wreckage Museum was a bust. While it did have some interesting artifacts, nothing there linked Lincoln or Mudd to Key West.

“It's a tourist museum, what did you expect?” Faith asked.

"To not be asked for a tip when I left!" He answered, utterly agog at the question, while his hand continued to feel for the cigarettes he knew he grabbed before they left the room.

“Shirt pocket Sam,” Faith said while she scanned the street for signs and ads for other museums.

“Thank you,” Sam grumbled, grabbing the pack from his shirt and lit one for himself.

“It was meant to teach and entertain. Haven't you ever heard of 'edutainment'?” She asked him. The question made him stop short and stare at her.

"What? What the hell kinda word is that? 'Edutainment.'" He said, accenting each syllable of his new word with more disdain than the last.

“A made up one to sell parenting books and educational toys,” Faith informed him. She checked the time on her phone. “We have time to hit another one before sunset.”

While Sam found the pirate museum off-putting, Faith found it charming, much like she found the whole island. It functioned at a laid-back pace, which Faith wasn't accustomed to.

She knew they had to get somewhere with their research soon, they couldn't hide from Jasper forever, but she wanted to savor the time she was spending down here on this adventure, she even was enjoying who she was spending it with.

Faith and Sam strolled down Duval Street, weaving their way through the tourists that lined the sidewalks. They passed shop after shop, bar after bar while the smells of sweet suntan lotion and cheap vodka permeated the air. As they crossed the street, Faith spotted a dark blue sign above a large doorway.

"'Mel Fisher Museum,'" Faith read as they approached the large white building, "Name sound familiar to you?"

Sam shook his head.

“Windowless building, solid door, modern looking security system,” He said, his eyes darting quickly to the cameras and sensors on the corners of the building. “No sign of a vaudeville skit out front, this place might just give us something useful. Shall we?”

Faith nodded and pushed open the heavy wooden door.

The drab, white facade on the outside of the museum was mimicked on the inside. Lit by stark, fluorescent lights, the building held two floors, the second a lofted balcony overlooking the center of the main room. Ugly black cabinets ringed its edges while pastel prints of seaside scenes attempted to accent the walls. The bottom floor consisted of four rows of display cases, all dazzlingly lit to showcase their contents.

“This looks like an old church,” Faith observed.

"Probably was at one point. One of the old mission style ones," Sam elaborated. Faith and Sam entered the building slowly. Faith was puzzled. As she passed by each display case, she found almost all the items had price tags attached to them.

“I don't think this is a museum,” Faith muttered, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"Oh, it is," Sam called from behind her, causing her to turn around towards the sound of his voice. "It's just all for sale."

Sam stood in front of a large printing close to the front doors of a middle-aged man in scuba gear. Mel Fisher.

"For sale?" Faith repeated, moving back next to Sam to get a look at the picture for herself. Sam skimmed the paragraphs of information that overlaid the photo.

“Looks like all of this is from the wreck of a Spanish ship that he found not too far from here. Almost 32 million dollars worth of treasure on board,” Sam summed up for her.

"Holy shit that's a lot of money," Faith muttered, the information suddenly making her feel underdressed and underclass for the value of goods she was sure she was surrounded by. Meanwhile, the awe in Faith's tone caused Sam to let out a low chuckle.

“What?” She questioned, walking towards the middle of the gallery.

“Nothin'. It's just that, well, 32 million isn't that much. I mean, I've seen hauls bigger than that so I'm just sayin' it could be a lot more,” He explained as he shoved his hands in his front pockets.

Faith turned and stared at Sam, a look of utter disbelief on her face.

“More than 32 million dollars?” She asked in a low voice.

Sam felt the worn down features of the coin from Libertalia in his pocket. The body warmed metal under his fingers triggered memories of being aboard The Fancy, surrounded by mountains of treasure collected from every notable pirate of the 17th century. And being trapped under a beam while the boat went up in flames.

Almost ended up dead but I still found it, he thought to himself with a smirk.

“It was a lot more. Didn't get to keep much of it, but I did find it," He emphasized by pointing the coin between his fingers at her. Faith quickly snatched the piece out of Sam's hand and flipped it over in her hands.

“Hmm, I wonder how much this is worth? Where is one of those appraiser guys?” She said, doing her best greedy cartoon villain voice.

“Uh, I don't think so!”

Sam plucked the coin out of Faith's hand. She cackled comically while Sam stowed his pirate treasure back safely in the pocket of his tan pants. Faith leaned a hip against the glass case next to her.

“You don't want to find out how much money something's worth? Since when?” She asked, crossing her arms in front of her.

“Since I know the rest of them are gone. It's the only one left. Also a reminder of a hell of a goddamn adventure. So you see, it's priceless. And since when do you care how much something's worth?”

His eyes narrowed down at her.

“I don't. Just gotta bust your balls a bit,” Faith said with a smile and gave him a gentle, playful bump with her hip.

Sam gave a little smirk and followed Faith down the aisle. Faith glanced in each case, taking stock of what was in them. Pieces of pottery in one glass box, misshapen silver and copper coins marked with various crosses in another. She passed another full of rusted spikes and musket balls.

Such a steal! Only Three hundred dollars a piece! The thought made her shake her head incredulously. The sound of Sam letting out a low wolf whistle caused Faith to stop.

"Would ya look at that," Sam said, his large arms stretched wide and braced against the display below him. The light from inside the case illuminated his rough face, giving it a youthful, excited glow. Faith stepped next to him and looked down to find an extensive collection of emeralds and pearls. Sam thumped his finger above a massive, rough cut, forest green emerald with an $85,000 price tag.

“That's a nice one.'

“Yeah, I guess.”

He turned his head quizzically towards her.

“You guess?”

“Yeah. Don't get me wrong, emeralds and gems are pretty. Like those two little bright ones right there would make an awesome set of earrings,” She told Sam while pointing towards two small stones at the very back of the case with wide eyes, making him snicker.

“But as far as treasure goes, eh. Anyone can find gems, or silver, or gold. It's stereotypical treasure stuff.”

"Treasure's treasure in my book, it's all worth money," Sam interjected.

Faith slid closer to Sam and lowered her voice.

“Now our treasure,-”

“Our treasure?” He interrupted again.

“Our treasure which will come to be your treasure,” She corrected, “There is nothing else like it in the world, it's got history. It's priceless. Kinda like that Libertalia coin in your pocket. You can't put a price on the story behind that.”

Sam bobbed his head in a begrudging acceptance of her explanation.

"Remy thought that way about the Lincoln Bible when I showed it to him," Faith said. The mere mention of his name caused a sad fondness to creep into her voice. Sam's head dropped; the mere mention of Remy caused him to look at the floor in shame.

"The history of it excited him so much; it made it priceless to him. Just like what we're looking for," Faith finished. Sam slowly nodded in agreement while his eyes traveled up, finally able to meet Faiths.

“You really don't blame me at all for what happened to him?” Sam asked quietly.

“You didn't pull the trigger so no, I don't,” She replied.

Sam knew she had told him this before, but it was an answer during the heat of the moment. Truth be told, Sam wasn't sure she still meant it weeks later, plenty of time for a person to think about things and change their mind. Thankfully, she didn't. Maybe now in the back of his mind, the blanket of blame that was smothering Sam from his chat with Nathan would ease a bit more.

"Can I help you?" A smooth, male voice echoed, causing the dense, slightly tense air between Faith and Sam to dissipate. A lanky man in a linen shirt appeared from behind one of the large cabinets with records on the balcony of the second floor.

"No, we're just looking, thanks," Faith called to him as he descended the spiral staircase with a rapid smoothness that came from repetition. The pair of palm tree patterned board shorts that he wore with his shirt accented the deep-set bright green eyes of his long face.

"All of our stones are inspected and certified for authenticity. We also offer multiple sizes and jewelry settings. Our smaller emeralds are a perfect size for a pair of simple yet understated earrings," He suggested. Faith's eyes shot up from the case as the hairs on the back of her neck began to prickle, despite the heat.

"See? I said the exact same thing to him!" She said, playing it off as coincidence.

"Well, I must confess. I did overhear snippets of your conversation," The man admitted with a bashful grin.

“Ah,” Faith responded, the information making the anxiety in her start to wain.

"I know it's not overly polite, but it does help to talk up a sale. So sir, what do you think? Earrings for the wife?"

Faith turned her head towards Sam, a pursed lip grin on her face as she tried to contain her laughter.

"You know, she might say she is, but she isn't the fancy jewelry type. Nice try though. Let's grab a beer, more our speed. Right, babe?" The lie rolled off Sam's tongue without missing a beat, along with the term of endearment he tacked on so quickly, so comfortably, as if he had been calling Faith that for years. It was unsettling for him; it was too comfortable.

The laughter disappeared from behind Faith's grin as the lie that Sam produced so easily rang true for her.

“Right. One question first,” She said, turning her attention back to the salesman with the vivid green eyes, “Do you have anything in here from the Civil War?”

He clucked his tongue and shook his head gently.

“Sorry, every we have in here predates it by a good hundred years,” He answered, stuffing his hands in the front pockets of his shorts in a very 'awe shucks' fashion.

“Didn't think so. But, I had to ask. Let's go dear, the bar and the sunset awaits!” Faith said as she grabbed Sam's hand and pulled him towards the door.

“Thanks!” Sam called out behind him and raised his free hand in a half-hearted wave.

"Have a nice evening!" The man called back as the heavy wooden doors closed behind Sam and Faith with a massive, echoed thud.

The man behind the counter slinked over to the phone that he kept near the staircase. An ancient yellow relic of a thing that still had a coiled cord and was attached to the wall. He jabbed the numbers quickly with a pointed finger. Three muffled rings passed before it connected with a statically click.

“Wallace? Eddie. Where's your boss? Well, get him on the phone. Oh, I'm pretty sure he's gonna wanna talk to me. Just-, ask him if that reward money is still up for grabs.” He listened to the crackle of the phone as it changed hands on the other end.

“Hey cuz! Knew that would get you on the phone! It was Drake, can't miss that voice and that nose. Yeah, she was with him, why?

The man's brow furrowed in confusion.

“Her? I thought the reward money was for him.”

#dangerous #sam drake x oc #samuel drake x oc #OC X Sam Drake #uncharted fanfiction #sam drake fanfiction #my writing

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