AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is silly. As in really, really silly. I started writing this after Dead Man's Chest, because I completely despised the movie. So it takes place assuming At World's End never happened, because when I started writing, it hadn't happened (and, oh, how I wish this had happened instead). As far as the VM timeline goes... somewhere at the end of Season 2, I suppose. It's not really important. Because it's crack!fic, after all.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Veronica Mars or Pirates of the Carribean. All characters, events, crappy movies, etc., belong to Rob Thomas and Disney, respectively. I only hope that Rob Thomas and Disney want their characters back once I'm done with them.
As hungover as he was, Logan was pretty sure he had passed out on the couch at the Neptune Grand, not on a beach. He was also certain that the beaches in Neptune had boardwalks instead of tropical plants. And as many people owned yachts in Neptune, he was fairly certain that none of them had large, billowing, black sails.
He sat up- big mistake, as it caused his head to pound even more- and saw Veronica sitting next to him, which confused him even more, because he knew she definitely wouldn't have fallen asleep on the beach.
"Logan… I don't think we're in Neptune anymore."
"Well, then, oh wise one," he said irritably, massaging his temples, "where are we?"
"Pacific Rim?" Veronica suggested. "The Bahamas?"
No one else aboard the Black Pearl wanted to pick them up. They were on a mission, dammit, and they couldn't afford to waste time stopping at deserting islands, letting people in strange clothing hitch a ride on their ship.
But Elizabeth insisted they had to. She knew there were dangerous people in these waters, but these two didn't even have swords. Besides, she reasoned, the crew greatly outnumbered them. They still refused, so she whined for a little while about how these people might've been out there for weeks, starving to death. She then whined a little bit more about how she had once been marooned on an island.
When Will then grumpily pointed out that she had only been on that island a day before the British Royal Navy came to rescue her, she threw Jack's compass at him.
"There is a girl out there! We can't just leave her!"
"But Elizabeth," began Gibbs, "you know it's bad luck…"
"You already have a woman aboard!" she yelled hysterically.
It wasn't until she threatened to burn the rum that the crew grudgingly agreed to go ashore.
Elizabeth wasn't really sure what they were. None of the crew knew what they were. They were both wearing a rough-looking blue material for pants. The boy's shirt read 'Slacker', whatever that meant, and the girl's was a very bright pink. She had a canvas bag with her, and they both looked completely lost.
"Are you… pirates?" Elizabeth asked.
"As a matter of fact, we are!" the boy smirked, gesticulating wildly.
She saw the girl glare at him. "We're not really pirates," she explained. "That was just our school mascot. And we graduated."
Elizabeth nodded as if she knew what they were talking about.
The blonde girl looked around, seemingly observing the slimy deck. "Any chance you know what year it is?" she asked.
"The year? Seventeen fifty-four. The twenty-fourth of June."
"Oh, fuck no," the boy said as he ran a hand through his hair.
Well, thought Elizabeth, he certainly curses like a pirate.
Logan wasn't sure why, but he kept checking his cell phone for a signal. It was stupid, because neither satellites nor cell phone towers had yet been invented. He briefly wondered if, had his phone worked, the Caribbean would be considered roaming.
"So let me get this straight," he heard Veronica say after listening with uncharacteristic silence to the other girl for the past half an hour. "You guys are on a mission to save a captain who is in a perpetual state of drunkenness from a giant tentacled creature who was sent by another tentacled creature who makes people pledge him a hundred years of service because he couldn't keep a girlfriend?"
"Well…" the other girl hesitated, as if just realizing how ridiculous the whole thing sounded. "Yes, in essence."
"And to help you on this mission is the man who mutinied against said captain with the help of his undead monkey?"
"Yes."
There was an awkward silence.
"Where's the rum?" Logan blurted out. "I could use a drink right about now."
Logan was about halfway through his bottle of rum, when he decided to start singing the only song he felt appropriate for the occasion.
"Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me…"
Elizabeth looked on curiously. "Where'd you learn that song?"
"It's from Pirates of the Caribbean," she heard Veronica say from behind her.
"Is that…a ship?" Elizabeth asked, puzzled.
"No, it's a ride. At this place called Disneyland," Veronica explained. Elizabeth tilted her head in confusion, so Veronica continued. She soon found it was difficult to explain Disneyland to someone who had no concept of theme parks or technology or even fun, for that matter. She had gotten to "human replicas made of metal and plastic" before she gave up completely and took a swing of Logan's rum.
Several bottles later, Veronica and Logan were still sitting on deck, giggling madly every time someone said "aye", and Barbosa was getting annoyed.
"If ye be planning on staying aboard the Black Pearl, it'd best ye not be bothering me crew. Or me, for that matter," Barbosa growled in what he thought was an intimidating manner, hoping to finally shut the two of them up.
Unfortunately, it only served to make them laugh more.
"Whatever, Captain Hook. I'm not afraid of your eye patch. Or your monkey," Logan slurred before he started giggling again.
"So, how exactly do you plan to find this Jack Sparrow?" Veronica asked the next morning as Elizabeth made a disgusting-looking concoction that would supposedly make Veronica's head feel better.
Elizabeth's hand stopped mid-stir. She realized that she had no idea what the hell they were doing. They had been sailing with Barbosa for two days, but he had yet to tell them his master plan.
"Okay, so my guess is that plan still needs some work. Maybe we should start by finding this kray-ken."
"It's pronounced 'crack-en'," Elizabeth corrected.
"Po-ta-to, po-tah-to," Veronica interjected.
"And I don't think it's very keen on negotiations. We would have better luck talking to Davey Jones."
"Well, there's an idea!"
Logan decided that a pirate's life was definitely not for him. It was filthy, it was hot, there were no bathrooms or video games, and the food was disgusting. And to top it off, Veronica had abandoned him and was spending all her time talking to Elizabeth about manicures or feminism or Pride & Prejudice or whatever. And now, it seemed, he was about to be ambushed by the other girl on the ship. Who, Logan realized upon further observation, was actually a guy. A guy wearing the puffy shirt from Seinfield.
"Do you happen to know what they're talking about?" the guy asked in a voice much deeper than what Logan was expecting.
"Oh, Veronica's probably telling Elizabeth to burn all her bras. Or corsets or whatever."
The guy nodded as if he understood, even though it was clear he didn't.
"Elizabeth kissed Jack," he-who-had-yet-to-be named said suddenly.
"Who?" Logan looked up from his hands.
"Jack Sparrow, the man we're looking for."
"Oh, right," Logan fiddled with his hands some more. "Wait a minute, who the hell are you?"
"Will Turner," he said. "I'm her fiancée."
"Oh man, that's rough"
"What's rough?"
Logan shook his head in disbelief as he walked away. "I hate this fucking ship."
Even though she'd known her for less than twenty-four hours, Elizabeth had gotten the impression that Veronica was a smart and sensible girl. Which made it all that harder to believe that she actually wanted to go ahead with this plan.
"You can't go aboard the Flying Dutchman! Davey Jones won't just let you get off once your business is complete, he will keep you on board for a hundred years!"
"Oh please," Veronica rolled her eyes. "Give me a little more credit than that. I have a plan. And back up."
"Back up?"
"Something to help you in case things go wrong."
"If you mean the crew, I would think of a new plan. They will not—"
"Not the crew. This back up is much more reliable."
Logan walked around the cabin, fiddling with various pirate-like objects, barely listening to conversation taking place. Veronica was clearly out of her mind, trying to convince the asshole who called himself captain to do something really stupid.
Logan picked up what looked like a compass; only he could've sworn it was broken. Admittedly, he had never been a Boy Scout, and being the son of an A-list Hollywood star did not really lend itself to practical skills such as old sea navigation, but he was pretty sure a compass was supposed to point north, not at Veronica.
He walked around the cabin a couple more times, watching as the compass continued to point at Veronica, no matter where he stood.
"That settles it! You'll take me and Logan to The Flying Dutchman, and we'll go on board and get Mr. Sparrow back," Veronica yelled, even though nothing, in any way, had been settled. "That just leaves how we're supposed to find this ship."
"Well, you can't use this piece of shit, that's for sure," Logan said, throwing the compass to Veronica. "It's broken… or something."
A highly dangerous smile spread over Elizabeth's face.
The ship was every bit as slimy and barnacle-y as Will had described it. Even the crew was slimy and barnacle-y, a property they must've gained after taking a couple of deep-sea submarine dives without a submarine. Veronica walked carefully over the wet deck: sneakers were apparently not ideal for watered-down sea vessels. She was getting a lot of curious looks, but she had a six-foot-something overprotective guy behind her and a taser in her bag, which let her feel a little more confident.
She found a guy/squid/octopus/sea urchin who looked like he had some authority (whips were very good at giving that impression) and put on her biggest, brightest, most manipulative smile.
"Hi," she said, grinning from ear to ear. "I need to talk to Davey Jones."
Davey Jones, sea captain of legends, turned out to have several tentacles sprouting from his face, a look that is more ridiculous than intimidating, which was what Logan was sure he was going for. And he's had some pretty rough break-ups in his day (the tiny blonde one in front of him being the reason for several of them), but he was certain that drowning your sorrows in alcohol is a much better solution than locking your heart in a box and turning into an invertebrate.
To each his own though, right?
"Here's the deal," Veronica started pacing around the room, putting on her professional ass kicker tone. "You're going to have your kraken spit out Jack Sparrow, release both Will Turners, then take one final swan dive and stay underwater for the rest of eternity. How does that sound?"
Davey Jones made a strange sound Veronica assumed was a scoff, although she couldn't be sure.
"Whyyyy, exathctly, would I do any of thooose thingss?"
"Becaaaause, if you don't, I'll make you into calamari?"
"What iss calamari?"
Veronica was getting really sick of this stupid fucking time period.
As it turned out, pirates were not fond of a Texas Hold 'Em. It made sense, considering there was no such thing as Texas yet. And playing cards had also yet to be invented. So the only option Veronica really had was to learn enough of the stupid dice game they were playing to kick their asses at it.
It turned out, the game was not so difficult to grasp, but pretty much impossible to win.
It also turned out that water only amplified the power of her taser, and Davey Jones was only too eager to get the crazy blonde girl with her crazy stinging device off his ship.
Jack Sparrow was a bit slimy, but from Elizabeth's accounts of him, that didn't seem too out of the ordinary to Veronica.