Disclaimer – Disney owns the entire franchise of Pirates of the Caribbean.

Meet Jack Sparrow, Captain Teague

Captain Teague knew he was in for a bad day when he awoke to the sound of someone trying to knock his front door in with a battering ram. Shaking sleep from his eyes, he recalled that he was not in that shack that sufficed as his abode on St Martinique nor that townhouse in Bristol from his boyhood with the blacksmith next door hammering on his anvil all hours of the night. Instead, the gentle sway of his hammock and the familiar feel of the gritty boards under his bare feet informed him that he was at sea, which compounded the question of who would be tearing down his cabin door.

"Open up, ya lily-livered coward! Quit cowering under yer bedclothes and face yer responsibilities as a man!" Teague grabbed his breeches and pulled them on. His nightshirt was a bit dirty with stains down the front but there was no time for a fresh shirt. Not if he were facing imminent attack from unfriendly visitors.

One good hard thump finally did it for the poor cabin door and the battered oak gave. Teague found himself face to face with his caller. The caller's frame all but blocked the sunlight from the doorway. Teague immediately feared the worst for his hapless crew.

"Grace O'Nelly?" Teague gasped. A meaty hand grabbed him by the collar.

"That's Captain Grace O'Nelly to ya, scumbag!" the grey-haired female pirate growled and showed a mouthful of shark-like teeth. Teague honestly expected her to rip open his throat with those teeth. Instead, he was unceremoniously dragged out onto the deck of the Misty Lady. Alongside the Misty Lady was another ship, Grace O'Nelly's flagship, Bloody Sunday. At the rails was his beloved Jenny Wren with her soulful dark eyes and raven tresses. She was wearing a bright red dress which flattered her figure immensely.

"Oh, Eddie! Ma, please!" she screamed and fluttered about like a trapped bird. She was a petite thing who looked like it would only take the barest breath of wind to knock her clean off the ship. That would have happened on several occasions if she had not been restrained by her burly brothers. Teague always thought that Grace O'Nelly having the delicate Jenny Wren as her offspring was like an elephant bearing a fawn. Jenny Wren had the looks and manners of a highborn lady. It was difficult to believe she was kin to the dreaded Irish pirate Grace O'Nelly, the Terror of the North Sea.

"Sorry, lass. A ma's gotta do what a ma's gotta do…" Grace raised her cutlass high. Great, his beloved's mother was going to gut him like a fish in front of her. He braced himself for the blow, which never came. Instead, Grace drove her cutlass into a small rum keg, obligingly held up by two of her crewmen, broaching it.

"Drink up, Teague! Put some colour in those cheeks of yers. Santa Maria! I need a drink too," Grace declared as she filled a tankard and thrust the tankard at Teague. Teague shakily took the tankard and allowed himself a sip. He glanced about the deck, trying to make sense of a most unusual situation. Thus far, apart from poor Jamie nursing a bleeding nose and Mickey sporting a black eye, there was little sign of a violent boarding. Grace's crew must have worked quickly and stealthily, or they could have approached them under friendly pretences.

The crew now mingled openly with the boarders, apparently at ease. O'Nelly's crew consisted of her much-extended clan, including a number of females of varying ages. Teague caught sight from the corner of his eye, one of his crew slipping behind one of the cannons with one of Grace's crew, a lithe nymph clad in a tight red corset. A large nanny goat was butting Teague's peg-legged coxswain. He sat down on a crate of fruit while his caller took a seat on a keg.

"Ya haf ta deal wi' yer responsibilities, my man," Grace growled and drew Teague's attention back to the matter at hand. "Bridie! Where's de bundle?" she hollered.

A pirate woman wearing a mob cap stepped forward with a cloth bundle that mewled weakly. Grace took the bundle and balanced it in the crook of her large arm while she took a gulp of rum from her tankard.

"You put my wee Jenny in da family way and we voted to return your pup to you. We even brought the goat over," Grace took a swallow of rum and belched. His child? Teague blinked and stared at the bundle. A few too many drinks at Mother Carey's found him and Jenny between the sheets but…

"In case ye're thinking of shirking, Edward Teague, please note that ya are the only man fool enough to hop in da sack with de fiancée of Captain Edward Teach. Don't worry yer empty head about Teach. I ordered him off once news came to us about him and dat Spanish hussy… Only the best for my wee Jenny," Grace beamed proudly. "As much as we would like to keep Jenny's wee laddie on board, we haf three other wee ones to look out fer and a pirate ship's no place for a wee baby."

"But the Misty Lady's a pirate ship too!" Teague protested.

Grace laughed. "A joke! Ya don't haf enough guns to justify dis tub as a pirate ship. No self-respecting pirate will sail with Quaker guns!"

"We're working on that…" Teague gritted his teeth. The Misty Lady had only two functioning cannons for now, having lost the rest in a bad storm. They had a few old logs painted as cannons to dissuade any pirates from picking on them for now. They would need to surprise some ship and steal their guns, soon.

"The mite's name is Jack Sparrow," Grace announced.

"What kind of name is that?" Teague protested and spluttered on his rum.

"A proper name for a pirate. Ye will probably call him James Edward Teague III or summat silly so my lads took the liberty of baptising him in a barrel of rum. So his name's Jack Sparrow and don't ya forget." Grace shrugged. "Hold him for me, will ya?" Grace belched and ordered Teague's cook to take the baby from her.

The sea cook obligingly took the baby from her. The rest of the Misty Lady's crew gathered round for a peek at the new arrival.

"Lord! That's the ugliest baby I ever saw!" the sea cook said and almost dropped the infant. Grace O'Nelly's eyes turned icy and spun around with amazing speed given her bulk. There was a dry crack of a pistol and the poor cook had gone to meet his Maker. The coxswain caught hold of the bundle as it flew into the air. The poor man then gasped and shouted. "It's a hairy imp from Hell!" He was soon sitting in a pool of blood with Captain Grace's cutlass thrust in his chest to the hilt.

"Teague! Can't ya teach yer men to be polite?" The annoyed grandmother held the bundle with one hand and thrust it at the father. "They're hurting poor Jackie's feelings!"

Teague stole a peek at his offspring as he took the baby from Grace and almost died. No human baby could possibly have a face like that. Grace cocked her pistol and glared at the hapless captain. The bundle chattered and squealed. Hairy paws reached out to grab Teague's beard. His son was a monkey! "Er, this may take a bit of getting used to… but I…"

"Ma! You took the wrong bundle. Jack's here!" a voice called out. Jenny Wren was climbing onto the deck of the Misty Lady with her skirts and petticoats all billowing about her. She was carrying a gurgling infant of six months or so in a crude sailcloth sling across her chest. She handed the infant to Teague. "Eddie, darling, meet our little boy. Wee Jackie looks just like you. He even has that heart-shaped birthmark on his bottom like yours…" Jenny gave the proud father a kiss on the cheek as Teague held up his squealing son.

"Now, now… this is awkward…" Grace muttered and put away her pistol. The baby monkey scampered over to one of Grace's crewmates and was promptly bagged in a sack. "This one's dinner, Sis!" he crowed.

"Dearest mother, we had ourselves a little vote while you were off the Bloody Sunday," Jenny beamed and walked up to her mother. She nonchalantly handed the piece of parchment over to her mother amidst horrified gasps. It was the dreaded black spot.

The deposed captain Grace spluttered. "What's the meaning of this outrage?" Every crewmate of the Bloody Sunday on board Teague's ship now closed ranks behind Jenny Wren, their newly-elected captain, including the red-corseted strumpet who had been romping behind the cannon with One-Eye Joey earlier.

"We could do this the easy way or the hard way, mother dearest…" Jenny purred sweetly. She had a small narrow dagger in her hand, pointed at her mother's ribs. "We do need someone to help Eddie with the baby, don't we?"

"Santa Maria! Ye are not leaving me on a Quaker boat to babysit your pup, are ye? I spent a whole day and night in labour birthing ya! Ingrate!" the outraged ex-captain turned to the rest of her mutinous kin. "Paddy! Remember the time I sat up with ya all night when ya took ill? Johnny, ye always was my favourite! Connie, say something for yer mother, for Pete's sake…"

"I was yer favourite whipping boy. I'm deaf in one ear 'cos of yer always slapping me!" Johnny shouted.

"I was ill then because ya poisoned me with rotten biscuits!" Paddy retorted. "And in case it slipped yer attention, Connie's no longer wi' us because ye decided to teach him to swim by kicking him over the side in shark-infested waters last week after too much rum…"

"And ye tried to force me to wed that blackguard Teach… so I guess we are all even now," Jenny said with a cold smile as she snatched the feathered tricone off the ex-captain's head. She turned to Teague with a winsome smile. "Eddie, does this hat make me look fat?"

"No, luvvie…" Teague replied as he held his son close. He decided he did not understand women and he wanted no part of whatever squabble triggered the most unexpected mutiny of the Irish pirate queen's crew. "Get along well with mama, Eddie dear," Jenny kissed the bewildered captain on the lips, then her son on the forehead. "Be a good little pirate, wee Jack… Mama's going after some Spanish galleons now…"

With a swish of her red skirts, Captain Jenny Wren was over the side and climbing down to her jolly boat with her crew. "Fare ye well, Eddie!" she blew some kisses at both father and son. A meaty hand tapped Teague on the shoulder.

"Er, Teague, do ye happen to be needing a cook, considering I just shot yer last one?" Grace O'Nelly said with an oddly meek tone. She had the nanny goat's rope in the other hand. "Would ye also have somewhere below we could put Bessie?"

"This way, Granny…" the beleaguered pirate captain decided he better make the best of a bad situation and show their new cook to the galley.

"Would ya happen to have rats in the hold, captain?"

"Why?"

"I need rats for my famous rat stew, savvy?" Teague felt his stomach twist into a knot at the cook's words. This arrangement was seriously going to take some time to get used to.

Author's Notes:

This is inspired by observing the interactions between some members of my family, especially those of a mother-son in law nature.

Quaker guns – fake guns made from large logs painted to look like functional cannons. Used throughout history and even during WWII to mislead the enemy.