Anamaria pushed through the crowds of Tortuga with noticeable disregard for etiquette or bodily harm. The first rays of sun were wavering up from the horizon like steam off a griddle, and she was mad.
"Stupid man, I should have known that he can't even obey himself and that I'd be the one sent to look for him just because--" Her muttering went on like the buzz of a bee beneath the constant racket of the streets as she searched the various fierce, vacant, exuberant, and heavily rouged faces, searching for a particular handsome mug that she knew better than she'd like to.
She finally found him, leaning tipsily on the arm of a brassy blonde and singing loudly. "Yo-ho, yo-ho!"
"Jack!" Anamaria yelled, pushing two innocent bystanders over in her rush to intercept the perpetually drunken pirate who she unfortunately called her captain.
"Whoa now, who's this?" the blonde asked, looking possessive.
"Heeeey, Anamaria. No need to slap me, I've met my quota for tonight," Jack said, slurring his words but looking at his irritated crewmate with sharp, bright eyes.
Her hand had already been hovering up toward him, but she brought it down reluctantly and resorted to verbal abuse. "You low-down son of a dog, ye told us we had to set sail at dawn and here it is nearly that and you're still roaming the streets with some floozy! What kinda captain are ye, anyway?"
Jack straightened up and puffed out his chest. "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, that's 'oo I am," he blurted proudly before losing his balance and falling back onto the blonde, who held him up willingly and with more physical contact than necessary (and more gentleness than Anamaria would have employed).
"Well if you're the cap'n, get your sodden carcass on the Pearl before it sails off and leaves ye! Haven't you had enough of that kind of thing?"
"At least there's rum on this island, too!" Jack retorted, grinning drowsily. Anamaria resisted the urge to return his grin, and then had to suppress the urge to be sick then and there when the blonde gave him a syrupy smile and exaggerated giggle.
"Sparrow, no time for this. Ye said you wanted to sail at dawn, and as your second in command, I'm forcin' you to follow your own order!" Anamaria stepped toward Jack, preparing to half-drag him down to the dock whether he liked it or not, but before she could the blonde jerked the pirate out of Anamaria's reach, making him stagger even more in the process.
"Oy now, if 'e wants to stay with me 'e can! He doesn't seem to want to go with you, so why don't you leave 'im be, you squalling 'ellcat!"
Anamaria clenched her teeth. "I don't think he's in any condition to decide what he wants! But I want to leave port, and unfortunately we can't go without him, so you'd best get your filthy hands off him, strumpet!" She grabbed Jack's other arm and yanked him toward her.
"Whoa, now, ladies, no need to quarrel. Ye can always share me…" Jack said amusedly, flopping back and forth like a rag doll at each tug.
"No, I don't think so!" Anamaria bellowed. She let go of Jack's arm, making the blonde stumble back a little, and before she could regain her balance, Anamaria swung her fist straight into the other woman's jaw.
Her opponent crumpled under the blow, and Jack, left with no form of support, began wilting toward the pavement, too. A few passerby applauded at this unusual form of street entertainment, and Anamaria gave a little curtsy before catching Jack just in time.
"Here now, lean on my shoulder, you no-good, boat-thievin' fool," she grumbled, hating herself for the way her heart leapt as Sparrow's lean, if rather limp, body fell against her side.
"You smell good," he muttered lazily into her neck as she slowly progressed toward the docks.
"Better than the whore who was hangin' all over you?" Anamaria asked acidly.
"Much better, believe me." He raised his eyebrows and narrowed his eyes dramatically, and Anamaria allowed herself to smile a little.
"I must admit, I liked her a little, once I saw her hit the ground," she deadpanned, and Jack let out a feeble chuckle.
"Violence doesn't become you." He paused. "Well, actually, sometimes it does."
"Well, then…" She raised her hand threateningly.
"Not now! No, no, doesn't become you now!" Jack stammered, and Anamaria burst out laughing.
"I wish I could hate you, Jack Sparrow," she sighed as they finally reached the gangplank for the Pearl. She used her last bit of strength dragging him up the plank, across the deck (past the amused eyes of the rest of the crew), and into his cabin.
She dumped him unceremoniously on the bed, but when she turned to go he reached up and grabbed her hand. "Stay."
"I have to go to the helm, seeing as the captain can't," she replied, trying to pull her hand out of his grasp (though not really trying as hard as she could have).
"The men'll take care of it. Stay with me, I don't like being alone when I'm drunk."
"When are you not drunk?" Anamaria snorted, unwillingly letting him pull her down so she was perched on the edge of his bed.
"Not often enough to worry about!" he replied glibly.
Anamaria shook her head resignedly. "Do you like living this way?"
He shrugged. "I'm used to it." He was still holding her hand, and her heart seemed to be going double-time. He closed his eyes, and she wondered how far he was from a drunken stupor.
"I'm glad you don't hate me," he muttered, so softly she could barely hear him.
"I don't see how any woman could hate you, Jack, even though you try your best to make them.
He didn't answer, but he pulled her hand to his face and pressed his lips against her knuckles.
She let herself enjoy the sensation for a moment before yanking it back. "Don't."
He opened his eyes, startled.
"I don't know where your lips have been tonight," she elaborated, glaring at him and hiding her hand behind her back to conceal its shaking.
"Yeah, well, I know where I wanted them to be."
Anamaria knit her brows. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Jack sighed and sat up. "Tsk, tsk, pity you can't take a hint."
"Huh?"
"I think you're the most adorable sqalling hellcat I've ever seen. Is that clear enough for you?"
"Now, there's no call to be sarcastic, I-- wait, what?"
"You're a crazy wench and I adore you."
"You're drunk!"
"No more than usual."
"You still technically owe me a boat…"
"I've only borrowed it—"
"You were with that blonde, and with probably a hundred others just since I've been on board—"
"But I always leave with you."
She was silenced by the peculiar sweetness of that comment for a moment, but then she came to her senses and ranted on. "Only because I drag you off and if necessary punch the other woman out!"
"See, that's why I love you!"
"What?"
"That's why I love you. Now stop yelling, I've got a beastly headache." He laid back down and covered his eyes with his hand.
"Jack! You can't say you love someone and then just go to sleep!"
"Well, I could if you'd be quiet."
"I really should hate you, you know."
"Yes, I know, but you love me instead. Go take the bloody helm, if that's the only way you'll be quiet."
"Ugh! You're impossible." She whirled and stomped toward the door.
"Don't I get a good night kiss?"
"It's morning, you wretch," she said as she walked back over to him.
"A technicality. Kiss me." He sat up eagerly.
She gave a dramatic sigh, trying to seem annoyed, but she knew she probably wasn't fooling him.
Jack threw his arms around her and gave her a kiss so enthusiastic that she almost forgot why she was mad at him. He pulled back with an audible "smack" and looked at her so affectionately that her last vestiges of annoyance vanished—for the moment.
Just as she left the room, she remembered her original grievances and popped her head back in. "If you love me so much, you'd better not go running around with anyone at our next stop! And you'd better not take any of this back when you're sober!"
"Yes, yes, love you too, good night."
She didn't bother to correct him.
A/N: What do you think? I have a cool idea for a prequel if you liked this! Please review! They really need a POTC category, I sent an e-mail recommending they make one!
Oh, yes, I know I made Anamaria have more of an accent of sorts at the beginning. I was just trying to type it out the way I imagined hearing it, and I kind of figured that her accent might increase when she was mad (just like my Southern accent does, LOL). Oh, yes, also, for some reason none of my ellipses worked! Stupid formatting. So I had to change them. If a few endings of sentences look weird, that's why!