“So, you wanna tell me what happened?” Uma pushes through the saloon doors, staring down at Gil sitting on the stoop in front of her mother’s fish and chip shop.
Gil looks distraught, his hands fidgeting in front of his, a sour expression on his face. Uma has the urge to kiss his pout, but she needs to remedy this first. Gil looks like he’s about to cry and throw up at the same time, and she can’t have that. Not from her second mate, her left hand man, her Gil.
“I was thinking about what I was saying earlier,” Gil starts and Uma sits on the stoop next to him, their arms brushing, “About you and Mal when we were all kids. When you asked what your name was the wrong things connected and-”
“And you called me Shrimpy.” Uma takes pity on the boy and finishes his sentence, the look in his eye crazed and scared. It’s only been a few weeks since her dalliance with Harry extended to include him as well, and she knows he’s still waiting for the bag to drop, for him to get kicked out.
Sometimes she really wants to go back in time and beat up her past self for nurturing the insecurities in Gil. Uma leans her head on his shoulder, trying to be a comforting presence. Inside the restaurant, she can hear Harry entertaining her crew as she’s out here.
“Are you mad?” Gil asks in a small voice, his arm going around her waist. She debates pushing it off, but that would be like hurting a puppy you like when it’s already hurt, so she lets it be.
“I’m upset,” Uma admits, “Being called shrimpy when I was younger hurt, you remember that.”
“I remember having to pry you off Mal once before her mother showed up and killed you,” Gil almost chuckles at the thought, “You were angry with me, you had Harry scratch me with his hook.”
“I remember Harry not wanting to,” Uma continues, a small smile forming on her face, “But I made him hurt you. I hurt you a lot of times.”
‘The Isle hurt us all,” Gil says, “Don’t put the blame on yourself,” And suddenly its too much for Uma out in the open, Gil wearing his heart on his sleeve like he always is, Uma not used to so much honesty.
She sits back up, pulling away from him slightly. He drops his hand.
“You’re not going to do it again, right?” Uma looks him deeply in the eyes, placing her hands on both his shoulders, “Call me shrimpy in front of the crew?”
“No,” Gil shakes his head, “Never again.”
And Uma smiles, “Good. Now, go get some eggs, I’ll see if I can find someone to cook the for you.”
And Gil smiles.
And from the shadows inside the saloon doors, Harry watches his two best friends make amends again, and he smiles too.