“Maybe that’ll be my next career,” Cooper replied, squinting one eye and taking a couple of hops on an imaginary peg leg. “Piracy, matey! Plunder by day, rum and cigars by night on a Caribbean island!” He chortled at the idea of kicking back in a Tortuga cellar alehouse, feet up on a cask and waving a wooden mug to call the serving wench over for a refill.<br/><br/>“Honestly though, I have no idea what’s in that room. After the first time I looked in one of those nightstand drawers I was a little afraid to find out!”<br/><br/>Peg leg or not, he was glad the ascent back to the Place wasn’t as steep as it had looked from the dock. That would have been the icing on a cake of idiocy: getting past the locked entrance he hadn’t thought of only to force Sarah to clamber up a hill in shoes that were definitely not meant for rock climbing. An easy stroll up a wide cobbled path led back to the gardens, and from there to one of the many entrances to the apartments. As it happened Sarah’s room was the closer one.<br/><br/>“Let me drop these in your room for you,” Coop said. He paused, crooked a small smile at Sarah, and hefted the bags slightly. “Maybe help you put ‘em away. Or, y’know … try one on.”