There's a Vampire in the Laundry Room, v.3, no wait, it's a Pirate?

This is the third and final writing exercise prompted by "there's a vampire in the laundry room."  Except that I was tired of the vampires, weren't you?  So I decided it should be a pirate instead.  I wrote the first two vignettes a long time ago, and used them as an editing exercise this week.  This pirate version is fresh out of the pen yesterday.  I like it, but I wonder what I would change if I slept on it for a while?  

Oh, and the next time someone complains that I don't update the blog often enough - ahem - know that you're likely to be tortured with silly writing exercises.  

Etude: There's a Vampire Pirate in the Laundry Room

The woman standing in my laundry room at 5:30 a.m. was tall and wrapped in an old, stained, coarse bed sheet.  She clutched the fabric to her chest with one hand and a wad of clothes and boots with the other.  Her curly dark hair was dripping onto her bare brown shoulders. 

“What are you doing in my laundry room?” I screamed.  I grabbed the almost full bottle of laundry detergent as my defense.

“My laundry.  What are you doing up so early?” she whispered. “And keep your voice down or you’ll wake everyone.  I didn’t even get to finish my shower.”

I was stunned.  “Your shower.”

“Yes, you know, I usually have plenty of time to do a load of wash and have a proper hot shower before you wake up.  You’re very predictable.”  She put her clothes onto the folding table.  “Or at least you were.”

“Predictable.”

“Yes. Up no earlier than 6:30 every morning.  Often later.”

“You are frequently in my house?”  My voice sounded thin to me.

“Once a fortnight or so. Whenever I’m in port.”  She rubbed drips from her shoulders with a corner of the sheet. 

“In port.”

She looked a little annoyed.  “You keep repeating me.”

“You’re using my house?”

She rolled her eyes. “Only when you’re not using it.  You’re asleep.”

I slammed the detergent bottle back onto the dryer.  “You can’t just waltz in here and use my house whenever you want, without my permission.”

“I don’t waltz.”  She dropped the sheet, revealing a muscular naked body.  She was covered in tattoos and deep scars.  I turned away, embarrassed at her exposure, I suppose.

“Well, pirates don’t typically wait for permission, do we?”  She extracted a tissuey white blouse from the pile of clothes and slid it over her head. 

“Pirates?”  I glanced back at her.

“Never seen a naked pirate before?”  She smirked and raised an eyebrow.  She was pulling on a pair of brown pants that laced up the front.

“As a matter of fact, I haven’t.  Especially not in my laundry room!”  I raised my voice again. 

“Shh.”  She buttoned a tight leather vest over the shirt.  Her fingers moved quickly over the buttons.  Faster than I would have imagined since there were so many tiny buttons. “Yeah, I got that.  I’ll be out of here before anyone else wakes, if you’ll just be quiet.”  She sat on the floor to pull on the knee-high black leather boots.  A sapphire blue silk scarf tied around her head finished the pile of clothes. 

“How did you get in here?”

She smiled again, a suggestive leer, and reached behind the ironing board to pull out a leather belt and scabbard.  A scabbard for a very long sword. The word scimitar flashed through my brain.  She pulled the sword from its sheath and took a step toward me.  I stumbled back into the washer, wishing I still had the detergent bottle in my hand.  Not that it would do any good against the deadly-looking sword. 

“Like this.”  She raised the sword over her head and slashed downward in an arc.  I might have screamed.  I did close my eyes. 

When I wasn’t dead a moment later, I opened my eyes to see a glowing green line hovering in the middle of the room.  I was fine.  The pirate rested the tip of her sword on the floor. 

“That’ll never get old,” she chuckled to herself. 

She stepped through the glowing slash, disappearing as if through a doorway.  She leaned back into the room.  “Hope I don’t see you next time, but can you get that strawberry shampoo again?  I really like that one.  Oh, and that oxi stuff is great for the tar on my breeches.” 

The slash of light disappeared after her with a small pop.