The clash of steel on steel rang out through the twilight. Boots scuffed through the dirt-like sand beside the tossing sea. There would be a storm coming, Calliope knew. She felt it in her bones even as she focused on the blade in her hand as she swung it at Killian's. The grey sky mirrored the grey waves to her right.

She swung again, grimacing as he swung back harder than normal. Killian just smirked at her discomfort, pushing her backward. Falling back on the footwork he'd drilled into her memory, she parried away his next hit.

"Not bad, love," Killian said. "You may survive out here, with some help of course."

Calliope just snorted out a small laugh. For weeks, Killian had been training her with a cutlass. After a few months at sea, she'd quickly realized it would be smart to have a way to defend herself without magic. In case she ever returned to Neverland to find her grip on the island altogether gone, or if some foe managed to strip her of her powers. She needed to survive long enough to take back her land.

"You forget, Killian, this is just my backup plan." Calliope held up her sword, challenging him to go again. "I don't need this piece of steel to put you out of commission."

He ran his blade up and down her own, causing a sharp ring as he did so. The little smirk on his face made her smile. When he lunged forward, she stepped left, deflecting his blade away. But he spun, his leather jacket twirling as he caught Calliope, surprised by the move, at unawares. She flicked her hand, disappearing in a gold and white cloud of smoke to appear behind him.

But Killian turned, grabbing her arm. He smirked. "And you forget, dear Muse, that you've used that trick before."

She looked into his eyes, not moving from where he held her arm between their chests. He winked, letting go, and she quickly stepped back. Before he could say anything else, a thunderclap split the air around them. Calliope felt her body tingling. There would be a storm, and it would be soon.

"Who taught you?" Calliope asked. They both turned to where flasks of water and rum sat on a large piece of driftwood at their side. As she downed the water, she tried to clarify. "To fight, I mean."

Killian's smirk disappeared. He bit his cheek, staring at the rum bottle in his hand before taking a drink. As the bottle lingered near his chest, he turned to her. "Liam did. Best swordsman I ever met." He frowned, but then pointed at her. "And you? Who taught you magic?"

"No one," she admitted. "I've been able to use it my whole life. I never met my parents. Zeus isn't exactly father of the year. I just remember waking up one day, my sisters beside me, in a land absent of people. Just wilds, as far as we could go." She sat down on the pale driftwood, letting her sword lean against her side. She frowned. "I learned how to hone my abilities alongside them. I am, was, I suppose," she corrected, "the eldest and most experienced. Now I'm the only one."

Killian nodded. He took another drink, then joined her on the driftwood. "My father abandoned us, sold us into servitude."

She watched the anger spreading through his body, tightening his jaw and his muscles, making him clutch the rum bottle so tight his knuckles paled. She placed a hand on his arm, hoping to offer some comfort. Zeus hadn't been the best father. She'd never met him. But he hadn't sold her or her sisters.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I can't imagine."

Killian just shook her off, standing away from the driftwood and swinging his sword around with little circles of his wrist. He didn't say anything, just watched the tossing ocean waves. The Jolly Roger was docked at the port further along the beach, the crew gathering supplies for their next venture out to sea. But there it was just them and the darkening, stormy sky.

"I've always liked storms," Calliope said. She stood off the driftwood, holding her silver cutlass down at her side. Standing parallel with Killian, she looked out over the tossing grey waves that broke into white foam as far as she could see. "They remind me of my sisters. I never met my father, but I feel power in the thunderstorms."

Killian shook his head. "So long as I'm not on the water when it's storming. Sailor's worst nightmare, they are." He looked down at her. "Liam saved me when we sailed through a hurricane once."

"Really?"

"Aye. It was terrifying," he admitted. Killian turned back to the water. He didn't smile, his gaze a million miles and years away.

Calliope took a deep breath, letting the sea air and chill from the incoming storm fill her lungs. She raised her hand out and up, palm toward the sky. Whispering words in her father-tongue, she reached out with her magic. It didn't take long for droplets of rain to start hitting her skin, washing away the dirt and grime of the swordplay.

"Here." She took his right arm, turning his palm upwards and placing it open in her own, facing up towards the sky. His hand felt warm against her skin. "Maybe you can feel the rain how I feel it."

She closed her eyes again, focusing on the charged air all around them. The rain dampened her grey, billowing blouse, causing it to stick against her skin. She felt the tingling in her body that connected her to the storm. As lightning split the sky, she smiled. Eyes still closed, Calliope then turned her focus to Killian's hand against her own. She took a deep breath. Rain drenched her dark hair, strands sticking against her cheeks. Everything, connected. The lightning touched the sky, which touched the rain, which touched her. And she touched Killian.

Calliope grinned. "Do you feel it?" She let go of him, putting both her hands out for herself again. She loved the rain. Catching it in her palms, she took a deep breath. She could almost smell the magic. Pulling her hands closer to her face, she breathed in the electric scent of the water. "Beautiful."

"Aye."

His voice has dropped, and she almost didn't hear him over the sound of the waves and the thunder. But she did. When she turned to him, his gaze lingering on her face and not the water in her hands, her breath caught. The rain made everything more beautiful, including, apparently, Killian Jones.

Her voice fell, breathing difficult. "So, hopefully, storms aren't so scary to you anymore." She searched his face again, letting the water trickle to the ground from her palms with the rest of the rain. "They're beautiful, not frightening."

"Aye," he repeated. Killian stood mere inches from her, his breath warm on her skin. "Tell me, Muse, are you always so fascinated by beauty?"

"Always."

When he kissed her, Calliope nearly stopped breathing. His skin was wet against her own as the rain continued to fall around them, but he offered some warmth even as the storm chilled the air. His hand nearly caught in her tangled hair as he pulled her closer. She forgot to breathe until a flash of lightning made her pull away.

She wiped her wet palms on her soaked clothes, trying desperately to calm down. It was dark. The ocean tossed beside them. They needed to get back to civilization. It wasn't safe. "We should go."

He smirked. "Aye. Whatever you say, love."

"I love the rain, but not enough to drown," she reminded him.

It took a moment more before she could move away from him there, turning back towards the port that lay a few hundred meters down the shore. When she finally worked up the strength, she went ahead of him. Calliope needed to think. She needed to breathe. She needed to clear her head of the warmth of Killian Jones.

More than anything, perhaps, Calliope really needed a drink.