The Pale Sisters present...erm...this insane fic that could potentially be very, very funny. Enjoy!
"Ouch!" Krystle grumbled to Becca. "This is why we should have two different computers."
"Precisely," Becca replied, glaring in absolute disgust at the misbehaving machine. Krystle was rubbing her fingers, refusing to even look at the computer, as it had caused the finger cramps she was now experiencing. "We'll never get anything accomplished if this thing keeps acting up. But also, if you weren't being an over-motherly figure saying we should do our homework, then you wouldn't have gotten hurt," she added, glaring back. "The real reason is that you don't like PotC."
"Oh, tis a shame, tis a shame, tis a mighty fine shame," Krystle said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "Just because I don't drool over sir Captain Jack Sparrow..."
"When have you ever seen me drool?" Becca asked, willing Krystle not to know the answer.
"Hmm, let's see...in the movie theater, when you dragged me along? That strand of drool was about a foot long...and then, when it came out on DVD, I could have sworn you were about to lick the screen..."
"Seriously, I was drinking my Hawaiian Punch and it spilled all over me, that was totally not drool."
"Don't even pretend you can explain away the time when you leaned right up against the screen and there was no Hawaiian Punch in sight..."
"Whatever," Becca responded grudgingly and started to read her LOST magazine, which she was not drooling all over, thank you very much.
Krystle, meanwhile, turned away from the computer with a sigh and was leaning down to pick up the book she was annotating for her English class when she spotted something glinting on the floor, trapped in a shaft of sunlight. "Hey, Beck?" she asked curiously. "What is this thing?"
"Hmm, this will require closer inspection from moi." Becca said. Leaning over and clutching Krystle's arm for balance, she fell over, though she never hit the ground.
"I'm the one taking French, you oxymoron," Krystle grumbled, but then realized that her friend had, quite impossibly, vanished. "Beck?" she called uncertainly, and then looked down at the innocently glinting little medallion on the floor. "I know better," she told it, warning in her tone. "I know that you're just a thieving little..." Her voice dropped off suddenly. She leaned down, staring at the medallion. The pirate medallion, to be precise.
"Ah, you're not as smart as you seem, my dear," said a much too familiar voice.
Krystle shivered and glared around. "Beck, I know that's you. Now stop imitating Jack Sparrow and get your ass out here this instant!"
"Don't swear at me, kid, and I didn't say that. You did it, right?"
Krystle blinked once, and instantly realized that she had made her mistake. Gone were the surroundings of a late afternoon in the kitchen before a lazy computer; instead she could smell the sea and hear the gulls cackling. Staring around in horror, her eyes came to rest on none other than Jack Sparrow. Looking down at her hand, she realized that she clutched the medallion in her palm, although she was quite unable to remember picking it up.
"You dummy," Becca said jokingly. "I thought you hated PotC, now you're in my dream. This is a dream isn't it? I mean I'm half expecting to walk over to the end of the stage and there will be a huge fan blowing in sea air and everything." Becca looked really confused.
"Um, Becca, I hate...I hate to break it to you, but...I don't think this is a dream." Krystle knelt down and scooped up a handful of sand, then let it run through her fingers, slowly piling back up on the pristine beach that surrounded them. She looked up at Sparrow suddenly, who looked just as confused as either of them felt. "This can't be happening," she said shakily. "You're not real."
"If you want to see if it's real or not I'll pinch you!" Becca said, laughing. "I'll tell you this, that is the real deal," she said, pointing at Sparrow.
"This isn't funny, Becca," Krystle said, looking thoroughly lost now. "If we're really here...if that thing over there is really real...then we're in big trouble. We're stuck across the continuum of time and space, too far away for even a telephone to connect us with the people we love. Yes, even a telephone cannot help us," she said menacingly, hoping that Becca got the point.
"Oh, relax." Becca was missing the bandwagon. "We should enjoy this experience! It is vital to my survival that we do this! Really!" she said as Krystle glared at her. "I mean, you've got me, what more could you want?"
"What more could I want?" Krystle's voice rose hysterically. "Beck, you're my best friend, but have you stopped to think about everything we've left behind? Like our entire lives? And don't even suggest that we're going to get magically whisked back any second now! This isn't a fairytale! The only reason we're here is...is...and I don't even know!" She buried her face in her hands, dismayed at the possibilities of why they would be here, of all places.
"Oh, that is a conundrum, isn't it." A tear fell down Becca's face. "Yeah, now that you mention it, I'd much rather be in the company of my family than that of Sparrow." She shook her head and sat down.
"Ladies, I'm loathe to break up such a heart-stopping fiasco, but might I ask what you're doing here, invading my space?" Jack Sparrow looked oddly uneasy in the company of two nearly-hysterical females.
Becca glared at Jack, much to the amusement of Krystle. "Yeah, right now, you are way down low on our list of things to think about. If you catch my drift," Becca responded and started to hug Krystle; at that point, both of them felt extremely hopeless.
Unfortunately, just as Becca moved to hug her friend, her hand brushed the chain of the medallion that Krystle was holding.
She cringed at the touch and Jack noticed it. "What are you doing with that, ye lasses?" he asked, clearly surprised that these two crazy girls had come to him with something he wanted.
"We didn't find it on purpose, you know," Krystle began to retort hotly, but just as she did, she noticed that Becca's outline had begun to fuzz over at the edges. Becca looked down at her hands and opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out, and a second later, she was gone. "Becca!" Krystle cried, snatching at the spot where her friend had been only a second before. "Sparrow, I demand that you tell me what this thing has done to my friend," she snarled in a thunderous tone and started toward the pirate. Meanwhile, in a different place, Becca was reappearing...
"Ohmf!" Becca fell onto something very soft, conveniently in the shop of Will Turner, the very soft thing turning out to be, in fact, the owner. "Oh, sorry," Becca said, blushing.
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