Author's Note: I know that there are other Anne Bonny fics probably out here, but I stumbled across her existence when I was looking for a pattern for a pirate costume. I have been dying to write this ever since. I really look forward to some hopefully positive feedback to this, as this is my first serious Pirates fic that involes no lovey-dovey, mushy...er...love. I hope you won't consider Anne to be a Mary Sue. She is a real historical figure, known for her relations with Calico Jack and also her raw bravery and combat skills. If there is some aspect of her that I have taken a creative liberty on, then I will alert you before the chapter begins, but otherwise most everything about her is fact. The timing may not be perfect, but it is set after the movie, and contains a little bit of Will and Lizzie too! Perhaps some Norrington, if I'm up to it.
Disclaimer: Jeez. I own nothing. Except Anne's crew. I own them. Yessssss...
No Need to Argue
Chapter One: A Queen With No Throne
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Anne Bonny had no swagger, though she walked like a man. Her russet hair was tangled, knotted and partially dredlocked. Gold dangled from her ears and from her throat hung a necklace of rubies that blazed blood red in the sunlight. From her swinging wrists, the sounds of her braclets of motley beads, jewels and bones clattering together could be heard. Her worn leather boots thumped steadily on the gleaming wood beneath her feet as she prowled the length of her new ship. She called it the Golden Gibbet. She thought fondly of her husband, and how she had watched his bones rattle in the wind, as he and the gibbet he was confined in swayed back and forth in the docks of Coral Harbor in Nassau.
She nodded to the night watchman on her ship and processed down the gangplank to the smoking, bustling city with the worst stench of death and rum ever: Tortuga.
With her first mate adopting a similar gait as hers, she inhaled deeply.
"Spades, I smell whores," she said with a smirk to her first mate, Spades McCoy, a young man in his twenties.
"Aye, Cap'n Anne. I smell 'em too."
Whilst walking to the bar, Spades had women throwing themselves at his feet. He kicked them all away as politely as he could, turning his chin up to avoid any eye contact. Whether the numbers were evidence of too much alcohol consumption or whether they were a testament to Spades' alluring features, Anne didn't care to guess. She'd have her share of Spades McCoy tonight, regardless of whatever strumpet he chose to shack up with for an hour.
The two entered the bar without fanfare, and sat down at a booth. Anne kicked her feet up and scratched in-between her breasts, as her open shirt and deep v-cut vest allowed her to do so. The rubies that settled between her breasts shone blood red against the darkening bronze glow of her skin. Spades eyed them- the rubies-with a satisfied smirk. He clearly remembered how Anne had yanked them off of a dead French duchess's bony neck. He then remembered how Anne had carelessly run the duchess through with her rapier just minutes before.
Gibbs, a stout and stocky fellow made his way over to them through the noisy crowd after giving a slight nod in their general direction. He grinned a yellow-toothed grin at Spades and Anne and pulled up a chair.
"'Ello Anne. Spades. There's a shiny new ship at port. The Golden Gibbet. I assume it's yours Anne," Gibbs said casually.
"Then you heard about James, right?" Anne asked, sneering as she said her dead husband's name. Spades frowned and his shoulders became tense.
Gibbs nodded and waved his hand at the waitress, demanding three mugs of rum. On him. He made sure that the two new arrivals could see every bit of his "discreet" monetary transaction.
"Gibbs you dog, how'd you come by all this money?" Spades asked, diverting the conversation.
"Been sailing with Jack Sparrow, lad," Gibbs replied pointedtly, raising his voice unnecessarily when he mentioned Jack Sparrow.
Anne shook her head. "Jack Sparrow?" she snorted, smiling a crooked sort of half smile. She took a swig of rum and wiped her mouth off with the back of her hand.
"Aye, the King of the Caribbean himself," Gibbs nodded, waving his pouch of monies in front of Anne's narrowed eyes, whilst she toyed idly with the dagger at her side.
"King? Him? He's a deserter and a child."
"He's thirty-two, Anne. He's exactly one year older than you." Spades pointed out.
Anne pointed her dagger at Spades. "Watch it, Spades."
"Aye, ma'am."
Anne turned back to Gibbs and frowned. Last she'd heard of Sparrow he'd been on some hair-brained adventure involving Cortez's gold medallions. She'd seen him when he was with Barbossa, right before they embarked on their fruitless scheme. She told him what a damn idiot he was, but he was drunk, so all he did was make a pass as her in response. He passed out before she attempted to let her knuckles shatter the bridge of his nose. Pity, really.
He would be the death of himself, he would.
"Is the idiot around, or have you finally come to your senses and left his crew?"
"Where the bloody hell would I go?" asked Gibbs indignantly.
"You could always join me," Anne pointed out, taking another swig.
"Nah, Anne I'd only join you just to get a look at the ceiling of your cabin every night," Gibbs replied, grinning roguishly.
Spades and Anne snorted at the same time. Jack, (who was on the other side of Anne in the next booth in exactly the same position and to boot, completely snockered) twitched and smiled. Thata Gibbsey! Jack thought, as he grinned widely and sat up woozily, brushing bread crumbs off of his trousers and preparing to make a suave (but completely innocent) entrance to propose his idea to Anne Bonny.
"What, getting sick of counting the cracks in Sparrow's ceiling?" Anne shot back, with a short bark of laughter.
Jack snarled and made his presence generally known by having a one sided pissing contest with himself. He muttered under his breath crossly and stumbled over to Anne and Gibbs. He swayed on the spot, lifting an angry finger at the two of them. He proceeded in his own mind to tell them both that no matter how effeminate Gibbs could be, only real women had the privilege of staring at his cabin ceiling, and that meant that Anne couldn't since she acted like a man.
He opened his mouth to say all this, but only managed to fall face first into rubies and a pair well rounded breasts before he passed out.
Anne shot up from her seat like blistering lava from a volcano, catching Jack right across the jaw with her fist. Well, if he hadn't been truly passed out before, he certainly would be now. He crumpled to the floor just as Anne moved to bring the heel of her boot to collide with Jack's jaw again, but in that moment, Spades leapt up and caught her around the waist, jerking her unceremoniously into the seat which he had previously occupied.
Anne shot up again, eyes blazing, "Let me at the bastard!"
By now, the bar was halfway interested in what was going on in their area, but since no one was dead yet, they weren't as interested as they could have been. Anne intended on making them riveted.
"No, Anne! Cap'n please! Just sit down," Spades hissed, catching both of her tiny wrists with one hand.
Though her wrists were in fact tiny, her punch was not effected in the least. From his spot on the floor next to Jack, Spades mulled over the possible calibers of pain he was likely to experience from all seven of her bejeweled rings that glittered on her right hand. Gibbs soon joined him, but by the looks of him, Spades figured that he wasn't able to carry on coherent thought process.
Anne was on top of the chair now, her eyes wild and furious and her jaw clenched. She had a white knuckled grip on her rapier, and wasn't about to take anyone else's passes or orders. How dare Gibbs talk her up like that? How dare Spades try to get in her way? How dare Sparrow even address her? The three men could go rot for all she cared. Except Spades. She needed a fix tonight and hopefully, she hadn't rendered him incompetent.
She scanned the bar quickly, and spotted two of her crew. She knew she had to get Spades back to the ship. However, she wasn't about to lug around her first mate, letting him bleed all over her nice shirt, letting him flounder about, slack-jawed like a dead fish. No, she'd let someone else deal with him, just in case he woke up. Besides, if Jack was here, then here was the last place that Anne wanted to be.
"Oy! Diamond-Eye and Bane Brisby!" Anne shouted across the bar, motioning to the two men who were surrounded by a couple of painted tarts. She then motioned to Spades and left the bar in a hurry... but not before relieving Gibbs of all his money.
