There were certain benefits to being part of the Black Order.
Officers from the Black Order were afforded certain privileges, such as the right to board any ship without prior approval (as long as they were dressed in proper uniform while boarding) or easy access to certain information that other naval officers were not privy to.
But tonight, Allen Walker was mostly happy about the private quarters he got when he was sent on assignment aboard a regular naval ship.
Somehow—and he suspected his tan-coated handlers for this slip—word had spread to the crew that he was under investigation by the Order.
They hadn’t said anything to him directly, but he wasn’t oblivious, nor were they subtle. They had whispered as he passed, uttering ‘pirate’ or ‘bastard’ or any other insult they could come up (and what sailor didn’t have a vocabulary overflowing with foul names?).
“damn,” you hear from the other room where calum was working toward putting new shelves up in your son’s room. he’d gathered enough trophies playing soccer, that by the time he was 7 years old, he’d ran out of shelf space and needed his dad to put up some more with him. you walk into the room, smiling at your son lecturing calum for cussing and calum looks up at you, raising his eyebrows. you glance at the nails laying out on his dresser and three different hammers and you laugh, walking over to calum and putting your arms around him. your son looks up at you, his eyebrows furrowed, looking just like a smaller version of an angry calum. “mommy? did you hear daddy cussing? he’s not supposed to use those words in front of me,” he pouts and you lean down, wrapping your arms around him, pulling him in for a hug. he puts his arms around your neck and you lift him up, groaning at his weight. “my big boy,” you say and he giggles in your neck. calum gasps and comes around to the front of you, taking his turn to pout. “he stuck his tongue out at me,” he says and you chuckle, kissing his lips gently. “no cussing, cal, okay?” he nods, taking your son from your arms and they both grin at you, looking like the full size and mini versions of each other. “now, i’m gonna go polish his trophies, try to finish putting up the shelves, okay?” you place a kiss on both of their cheeks before leaving the room, but before you do, you hear a small “damn” come out of calum’s mouth and without turning around, you know he’s talking about your ass. as your son starts to lecture him again, you smile to yourself, shutting the door on your way out.