X Marks the Spot (Part 1)
It was, without a doubt, the slowest and most thrilling kind of secret Hetty had ever kept.
It started with stolen moments.
After their first confession, Hetty had been determined to keep things strictly private. She wasn’t even sure how to define what she and O’Malley were. All she knew was that she felt drawn to the pirate in a way she had never allowed herself to feel before. It was exhilarating. And overwhelmingly terrifying.
So, she kept her distance when they were around the others, acting as though O’Malley was just another ghost in the house, perhaps slightly more irritating to her than the rest. If anyone noticed that she lingered just a little too long when Jo spoke, or that her eyes darted toward the swashbuckler whenever she entered or exited a room, no one said a word.
O’Malley, however, wouldn’t be herself if she didn’t toe the line just a bit.
Whenever the two of them found themselves alone—even for the briefest moment—O’Malley would lean in just enough to make Hetty’s breath stutter, a flirtatious smirk playing at her lips. A brush of fingers along her sleeve as she brushed by, a whispered quip in her ear, a look that made Hetty’s stomach feel like a dingy in a tempest. It was maddening.
“You know, darlin’,” O’Malley mused one evening as they stood in the empty parlor, the warm glow of candlelight casting flickering shadows on the walls. Hetty stood on the opposite end of the room, failing to will her legs to walk out and go to bed.
“Ye put on a fine show,” O’Malley murmured, voice soft, smirk gone. “But when it’s just us? You look at me like you want to run and stay all at once.”
Hetty’s breath hitched, a moment of fear rushing through her at the thought of Jo reaching her limit. “I am simply… adjusting.”
O’Malley’s gentled, sensing her worry, and walked right to her, her hand turning over to cradle Hetty’s in her palm. “Then take your time. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”
Her relationship with Trevor was quick and dirty, and she made mistakes. Many, many mistakes. But she had grown so much since then. And this feeling with O’Malley—Johanna— was unlike anything she had ever felt. She didn’t want to— she could not— ruin it.
But after weeks of cat and mouse, stolen moments all too brief, Hetty could no longer bear it. Tonight, she was ready for more.
She stood near the door to O’Malley’s room, adjusting her hair for the hundredth time as she steeled herself. Her heart pounded in her chest. There was a fluttering in her stomach—excitement, yes, but also nerves. She had never been this vulnerable with anyone. Not even when she was alive.
“Waitin’ for an invitation, love?”
Hetty jumped, hand to her throat, as she turned around to O’Malley behind her, smile painted across her lips.
“Ye’re lookin’ a bit twitchy tonight, darlin’,” O’Malley teased, her voice low but gentle.
Hetty shot her a quick glare, though she could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. “I am not twitchy.”
O’Malley’s smirk widened. “Aye, ye are. But that’s alright. I like ye that way.” She breezed towards Hetty, grabbing her hand and gently tugging her into her room, the now draft and mold-less room with a “view”.
For a moment- they just looked at each other, Hetty’s mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, before Jo saved her the trouble and spoke.
“Not that I mind yer company,” O’Malley murmured, voice a touch more cautious than usual. “But what brings ye here at this time o’ night? Somethin’ on yer mind?”
Hetty’s hands fidgeted with her wedding ring. “Yes.”
O’Malley raised a brow, waiting.
Hetty swallowed, gathering herself before stepping closer, closing the space between them. It wasn’t the first time they’d been this close, but this time felt… different.
“I’m ready.”
She didn’t need to say another word. Jo stilled, her sharp green eyes searching Hetty’s face for any hint of doubt. “Are ye certain?”
Hetty exhaled slowly. “I don’t want to- I cannot wait any longer.”
Jo’s lips parted, a slow, bright smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Well. That is the best thing I’ve heard in two hundred years er so.”
Hetty’s pulse hammered in her chest as Jo reached out, her fingers brushing over Hetty’s wrist before sliding up, tracing a featherlight path along her arm.
Even after all this time, Jo still touched her like she was something precious.
Hetty did not want precious.
She surged forward, gripping Jo‘s vest in both hands and pulling her in. The kiss was deeper than any they’d shared before—no more hesitation, no more second-guessing. Just the feel of Jo’s body against hers, her hands wrapping around Hetty’s waist with need, as if she couldn’t get her close enough.
Jo made a low sound against her lips, patience finally snapping. One hand slid up to tangle in Hetty’s hair, tilting her head, deepening the kiss until Hetty could feel her knees wobbling, threatening to give out.
Jo grinned against her mouth, steadying her with a firm grip. “Weak in the knees for me are ya, love?”
Hetty huffed. “Oh, do shut up.”
Jo barked out a laugh, her breath warm against Hetty’s skin as she leaned in again, slower this time, more deliberate. “With pleasure.”
Jo’s lips were warm and surprisingly soft for someone who spent all their time around salty air, insistent but careful, like she knew exactly how much Hetty could handle—like she’d memorized every moment they’d spent getting here and wouldn’t dare rush it now.
But Hetty wanted more.
She pressed in, chasing the heat of Jo’s mouth, feeling a thrill as Jo responded in kind, her hands tightening around Hetty’s waist, pulling her in until there was nothing between them but breath and desire.
Jo broke the kiss just enough to smile against Hetty’s lips. “Easy, love,” she murmured, her voice low, teasing—but underneath it, something softer, still patient. “We’ve got time.”
Hetty let out a breathless, flustered scoff. “You might,” she shot back, though her voice lacked its usual bite. “I, on the other hand, have wasted well over a century—”
Jo cut her off with another kiss, slow and deliberate, as if to remind her that none of that mattered now. That this moment—this—was all that mattered.
Hetty melted into it, her grip loosening slightly, though she didn’t dare let go entirely.
When they finally parted, foreheads brushing, Hetty was breathless, her heart racing in a way she hadn’t felt since she was alive.
O’Malley’s thumb brushed absently over Hetty’s hip, her smirk softening into something closer to wonder. “Speechless, eh? Didn’t think I’d live to see the day.”
Hetty huffed a laugh, rolling her eyes even as her fingers toyed with the buttons of O’Malley’s already half unbuttoned shirt. “You didn’t live to see it.”
O’Malley laughed, tilting her head in consideration. “Aye, fair point.” She reached up, tucking a stray curl behind Hetty’s ear, her touch lingering. “Still—worth the wait.”
For a moment they just stood in eachother’s embrace, taking in this moment together, but after a moment, Jo pulled back to see Hetty, pupils blown, hungry.
“Ye look like yer about to eat me alive.”
Hetty leaned in, lips brushing Jo’s.
“I just might. Now shut up and ravage me, you degenerate.”