Disclaimer – Do not own so don't sue.
Author's notes – There is a song which Bosky and Jack sing, I know that it was not yet composed, but the lyrics of the song just fitted.
Also Bosky actually means in old English slang on the verge of drunkenness, thought it suited the story and her character.
Last thing I promise, feedback is appreciated.
A deafening clap of thunder rumbled across the pitch-black nights sky, for a split second the gloomy damp cell was alight in brilliant white, the forked lines imprinted upon the atmosphere as though joining one star to another. Howling wind complemented the thunder in a terrifying melody, announcing lightening with a shrill and fearsome moan. The rain battered the walls and the roof leaked leaving trails of water streaming into the cell, pooling in the cracks of the stone floor. The harsh outline of the barred window was illuminated with the crack and sizzle of lightening; casting white rays upon the rain spraying between the cold metal bars, they appeared like small sparks cast offs of the weather above.
Huddled in a corner mere feet away from the terrible weather hurling into the cell, crouched a person. The quivering body was wrapped in the meagre bed blankets provided; small cold hands grasped the near useless protection to a pale face. "This wasn't how it was meant to be!" the voice was horse and filled with anger, yet a feminine ring held firm. The woman shuddered violently against the chilly night; her breathing ragged from the dampness of her containment conditions. An angst filled sigh left her lips, "this wasn't how it was meant to be." She let her head slam back against the wall in defeat, drenched auburn hair clung to her forehead. She raised her hands to rub across her pale face but was rudely reminded of the chain cuffs about her wrists, as they were jolted to halt mere inches away from her skin. Groaning outwardly she lowered her head to her hands, seven months she had been rotting in this godforsaken prison, seven months of humiliation, seven months of inhumane treatment and for seven months her heart had been dying. She could hear the sea crashing onto the beach below from her cell, hear the commotion as boats docked into the port, smell the salt upon the air she dreadfully missed the ocean, its hypnotic effect, it was like an addiction to her, she needed to be back upon her boat with her crew. She had tried escaping many a time, though the guards had got wise and decided that the safest and most effective deterrent was to clap her in irons. Yanking the chains in protest she had to muffle a cry as they bit into her tender flesh, even her cunning and skill couldn't get her out of this situation this time.
"Lavly weather for ducks!" a comical male voice spoke. The sudden speech shocked her out of her distress, amber-brown eyes frantically searched the corridor, which led past her cell for the owner of the voice. The darkness did not surrender its quarry. Deciding that she had finally cracked she let her head slip back into her numbing hands. "It's raining, it's pouring, the captured pirate is snoring." She growled in protest, its wasn't enough she got jeered at by the guards, now her own imagination was sending creatures from the past to taunt her. A large hand shot out of the shadows and grasped her shoulder in a firm but gentle manner. "Aint ye gonna say how do to yer mate?" A sudden flash of lightening lit the cell and with it the face her assailant. Gold teeth glinted, brown eyes shone and an expectant face with a bizarrely plated beard waited for her to speak.
"Jack Sparra?!" The shock contorted her battered pretty features into a countenance she never usually wore. "Bloody 'ell, wot you doin' here!"
"Well me little Bosky, a little bird told me that another little bird was all cooped up." That grin never ceased to amaze her.
The torrents of rain had not abated one inch, the storm had taken hold of the entire island, throwing all its malice and anger to the streets below. Thunder growled through the heavy and close atmosphere. Two figures emerged from a darkened side street plodding along casually side by side, one arm wrapped about each other's waist. The echoes of their droning singing managed to pierce through the deafening noise of the storm above. "Show me tha way to go home, I'm tired an' I wanna go to bed, I 'ad a little drink about an hour ago an' its gone straight to me 'ead!" The rumbling baritone was not complimented by a screeching soprano. "Hey, hey HEY!" Bosky stopped in her tracks spinning Jack around to face her. "Ye be ruining me song wit tha stupid voice of yers!"
Jack's face fell, as did his bottom lip. "Nah, nah, NAH! Don't ye try to make me feel bad, yer singing stinks like a scurvy sea lying in a barrel o' grog!" Quickly gathering his composure he added, "Madam I take considerable offence." Jack raised an eyebrow and cocked his head to the side and spoke as though he was telling her he was royalty. "I was a choir boy in St James college don't you know!"
"Yeah an' yer balls aint dropped yet!" Bosky broke into a sniggering laugh, snorting at intervals. She grasped on to Jack's shirt to steady her shuddering body, one arm holding her own stomach.
Trying desperately to take offence from the remark Jack held in his own laugh, but it just was not happening, "Ah my dear Bosky, how I 'ave missed you!" Uncharacteristically he swept her up into a tight hug and placed a kiss upon her hairline.
Amber returned the embrace and mumbled, "yeah me too, but don't tell no one!"
Slowly they parted and gave each other a rare genuine smile, before the moment was ruined by Jack ruffling her scraggy matted hair. "Come on, we have somewhere to be my freed bird."
They both walked in silence for a moment contemplation writ large in both their eyes, the storm still rumbling overhead. Bosky gingerly reached out for Jack; she had been alone rotting in that dark dingy cell for months, each day leered at and beaten by the guards, never a friendly word spoken and frightened that she would never again smell the fresh air of freedom, never again see the sea or bask in its oceans and never again see her longest friend and mentor. It was Jack after all that took her under his wing, cared for her when she was younger and in considerable trouble. He had shown her the ropes, literally. He was always there for her a silent strength that was unwavering and forever true. To an outsider it would appear the two always argued a constant friction between them, but to those who knew them it was an integral part of their relationship, it was always good natured and never left scars. The older man seemed to have sensed her need and gently pulled her closer so he could keep a hold of the much too skinny figure. No doubt later they would inevitably get drunk together as was their wont, and his little bird would get emotional and then recount what had happened and he would always be there to listen, support wipe away her tears and help pick up the pieces. It was times like that he could still see the fragile twelve year old girl who had run away from home and desperately needed care and attention in the dangerous world she had found herself in. She had clung to him like driftwood in a sea of troubles and he had readily assumed the mantle of surrogate father.
A violent clap of thunder broke both pirates out of their thoughts; they both exchanged glances and smiles and knew now everything was going to be okay. Bosky looked up ready to resume their normal relationship "Why aint ya tellin' me how ya knew how ta break me out?" She prodded at Jack's firm chest with an enquiring finger. "Levels and wot not aint really yer fing!"
"Its levers me dear! And Jack Sparrow knows all!" the eccentric arm gestures nearly knocked the woman at his side over, she barely had time to duck.
"Hmm, well anyways it were about time ya turned up or else me neck would hav' been stretched like a Christmas goose!" She imitated the actions causing a new grin to break out over Jack's face.
"Indeed, and now ye owe me another life debt!"
"Argh ya scally! WE BE EVEN!" She balled her fist and shook it at the others face, trying to be threatening but failing miserably. "Ooh were it tha' saved your huge arse when ya fell off t'plank last winter?"
"But Bosky love, who were it that saved ye from being char grilled in Pompeii?"
"Nah don't ye be saying tha'. T'were not me fault tha' blummin' mountain spewed up fire! I knew ye shouldn't hav hit tha' tribes man, he cursed us coz of YOU!"
"He drank me RUM! NO ONE DRINKS ME RUM!"
The two pirates had rounded upon each other nearly nose to nose. "I say we be even!" Bosky spat in Jack face due to the anger welling up inside her. She had grasped on to his shirts collar in a white knuckled grip.
"I say ye owe me!" He drew his arms up to grab her shirt collar
Both pirates stared into each other's eyes, their eyebrows knitted in frustration and teeth bared in scowls. "I'm only gonna say this once more." Bosky drew closer pushing her forehead to Jacks and pulling his tense body towards her. Punctuating each word and speaking slowly she growled, "WE. BE. EVEN!"
Jack removed his fists from the woman's soiled shirt, brushing the crumples away. He straightened his back standing tall setting straight the bandana on his forehead. "Okay, okay, but remember this little Bosky... ..." He paused for dramatic effect raising one eyebrow, and then slowly lowered his face back down to hers and no louder than a whisper said, "Singapore!"
The grimace left Bosky's face in an instant was replaced by contemplation and soon dropped to resignation. Sighing she released her iron grip and backed away. "Yer well, maybe ye got a point." Looking down to her feet she began to mumble.
Settling his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close, despite the fact she was trying to pull away he spoke, "Yes, Singapore, such a lovely place. Anyway I'm feeling a tad parched, I believe it's time I kept with me prior appointment. Come on luv, not even you could not refuse the Grey Lady!"
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