Disclaimer; Characters aren't mine, never will be. I wish, but they're not.
Credit to Angela, AKA CaptainJackSparrow…Savvy? for writing Part 2, and possibly more in the future, I'll write to let you know if she does.
Author's note; Any and all constructive criticism is welcomed. This is my first fan fic ever, and I hope you guys all like it. I've never written anything in my life that wasn't assigned by some boring teacher about something like the photosynthesis of oak trees, or something equally…yawns ok I'll shut up now, but tell me what ya think. Feed me!
Part 1
Captain Jack Sparrow looked out to the port that he and his crew were about to dock the Black Pearl on. They had been at sea for days now and were grimy, tired, and hungry as provisions were running short. Morale was slightly improved in the last few hours due to the prospect of shore leave.
He yelled to the crew; "Prepare to release anchor! Lower the sails!".
He looked towards shore and decided to head below deck to retrieve a few shillings to pay for the night out at the tavern.A steady grating noise seemed to appear out of nowhere as a large metal machine suspended in air floated above them. At first no one else seemed to notice, but as it got louder a few members of the crew looked above and almost dropped the sails on deck. It seemed to disappear as quickly as it had arrived, so it was dismissed as hallucinations due to hunger and sleep deprivation by many.
Captain Jack rubbed his eyes and squinted towards the harbor. It must be after effects from tha' rum I drank earlier; he thought, for he swore that he saw a few very tall buildings that seemed to stretch towards the sky, and very large green statue of a strange robed lady holding a tablet and a torch. A second later the buildings and statue disappeared and changed back to a normal, bustling port full of merchants and sailors. The Captain began to have second thoughts about his sanity... This is very different from me usual hallucinations...maybe Gibbs be right and I am a bit daft...
The vision appeared again, and did not shimmer as it had last time. Captain Jack looked around him and saw many of his crew rubbing their eyes and doing the same as he had before with confused expressions on their faces. Maybe this isn't a hallucination...he thought.
They were approaching shore faster now, and were almost ready to dock. The entire crew was completely bamboozled now and had no idea what was happening. There weren't many alternatives at this point but to sail to shore, so that's what the crew set out to do. They pulled into one of the landings and began to tie the ship to dock.
A very stern-faced man in a stiff blue suit took notice of the Black Pearl and it's surly, filthy crew and walked towards the ship in a very quick and determined manner.
"Just what do you think you're doing! Who are all of you, and why have you brought this filthy wreck? It looks as if it belongs in the junkyard!"
Captain Jack Sparrow began to feel a little indignant. This is a strange port, I'll give it that, but that don't be giving this man, whoever he be, the right to insult me ship! After all, after he got the Pearl back from Barbossa, he had taken the time to replace the sails and swab the deck, a few things that his former first mate had neglected after he mutinied and took the Pearl.
"I be Captain Jack Sparrow, mate, and this be my ship, the Black Pearl, the fastest in the entire Spanish Main."
The man looked angry, for what reason Jack couldn't imagine. "I don't care who you are, this is a private port, and you have to call ahead if you want to keep your ship here," he spat.
"Listen, mate. I'll pay to keep me ship here, but I will not suffer any insults to me ship or crew. Now how much will it be?"
Part 2
The man looked at Jack with a piercing, murderous glare. "As I said before, this is a private port, and can be used by prior arrangement only. No exceptions!"
Jack squinted at the man, "You look familiar…have I seen you before?"
"If I'd ever seen you before I would have had you arrested on the grounds of disturbing the peace and trespassing on private property!"
…Well, that was a nice thing for someone to say…"Who be you wanting to turn me in to?" Jack asked.
"The police!" the man was getting so frustrated at Jack, he looked as if he was about to slap him across the face. The Captain had had much experience being slapped previously, and didn't look forward to the prospect too much.
"The police? Who be the police?" Jack was perplexed. He had never heard of such a thing, and had no notion of why they had the right to arrest him. The man looked Jack in the eyes and leaned in close to his face and said;
"The people that put you in jail cells when you violate the law! Now get this filthy ship away from my dock!"
The crew, as starved and parched as they were, got back on the ship and moved it out to sea to find a place to dock.
"What are we supposed to do Jack, we're starved and we need to get off this ship as soon as possible! We haven't had shore leave in months!" one of the crew stated matter-of-factly. Mr. Cottons parrot sang a song…that Jack had taught him when they made way from Port Royal.
That not be the type of song I be wantin to hear at this point, I think I be hallucinating all too much. My crew, meself, and me friends parrot 'ave been starved for weeks at a time and lonely for month. I don't think a second mutiny would serve well. I be needin to think of somethin' that we can do, and fast. Jack Sparrow thought to himself. He had the crew dock the ship as close to shore as possible, yet away from prying eyes and these insufferable "private" ports.
The entire crew walked out into the busy shore-side New York street. Cars screeched as they swerved to avoid them and people swore and shouted indignantly; "Get off the road you morons! Get out of the way!" One of the Jack'screw unsheathed his sword and stabbed the man clean through in annoyance.
The police arrived at the road and quickly surrounded CaptainJack Sparrow's crew and arrested all of them quickly, surprise having a large factor in their success. Jack looked at one of the policemen standing guard while the other officers processed paperwork and tried to obtain some form of identification from the pirates in front of them.
"What makes you able to be takin' us away?" The officer looked at Jack and showed him his badge.
"And what proves that of why you be binding us up like this? We 'ardly did anything wrong, we've been about our own business, haven't we, lads?"
A chorus of "Aye!" thundered over the sounds of the afternoon traffic.
"I'm an officer of the law, this is my duty", The officer replied.
Part 3
"That be one strange lookin' uniform for an 'officer of th' law'. Where be your wig?" Captain Jack asked. He motioned to his crew behind his back, telling them silently to be prepared to draw their swords and pistols.
The policeman looked at the surrounding officers with an amusedsmirk on his face. "And why, might I ask, would I need a wig?"
"I'm not all that sure meself. Always seemed like a stupid idea to me." The Captain seemed to have a funny twitch in his neck to the policeman as he silently signaled for his crew to move to the left, so their backs would be towards the high noonday sun.
"Ooookay then." The police officer turned to his colleagues. " I think we may have the need for some restraining jackets over here."
"Restraining?" Captain Jack looked incredulous. "Now, gentlemen, there be no need for that. We all be men of our word here, and we'll cooperate to the fullest. Won't we, lads?"
A deafening chorus of the word "Aye!" could be heard on and around the docks quite clearly.
"I'm sorry, erm, sir, but that's the law. All prisoners must be restrained until they achieve bail, or until the judge sees fit to free them." The policeman seemed a bit confused at the behavior of these odd strangers. Maybe they were from some sort of radical reenactment group?
"Well, that just won't be satisfactory, will it lads? NOW!"
The pirates leaped to action, taking advantage of the sun's position, freeing themselves of their surprised and blinded captors and quickly disarming them. They held the frightened men at the ends of their cutlasses, smugly satisfied that they had gained the upperhand.
Most of the officers were new to the force, and had only been assigned to the area because of the assurance that it would be an easy assignment. They hadn't had much experience, and were quaking in their boots at the prospect of what might happen to them, their attention drawn to the tips of the pirates glistening blades.
"Now, gentlemen. What were ye sayin' about restraining us?" Captain Jack knew that they really shouldn't be wasting time talking to these men, but he couldn't resist gloating. "Personally, I didn't think it was that great of an idea meself. Maybe we can reach an accord? How about we restrain you until we see fit? Men, throw them in the brig."
"Aye, sir." Ten or so of Jack's crewmembers motioned to drag their new prisoners to the brig.
"We'll be figurin' out what to do with them later. Meanwhile, Mr.Gibbs, Mr. Cotton,and Anamaria, ye be with me. The rest of all ye scabrous dogs guard the Pearl, and wait for us to return. We're goin' to try and find some rations and clothes so we can be gettin' away from this strange place as soon as humanly possible, and back to familiar waters of the Caribbean."
Captain Jack Sparrow, Mr.Gibbs, Anamaria, and with his loudly squawking parrot were definitely a shock to the work-driven New Yorkers on their daily auto-pilot. Living in New York, they had seen a fair variety of oddballs and street urchins, but this was something else. But, of course, they had never been exposed to the likes of Captain Jack Sparrow.
Part 4
People on their daily commute stopped dead in their tracks as a gaggle of four pirates walked down the sidewalk in an easy, practiced gait. Most of them were not surprised by the state of dress of the strangers, as many homeless people wore close to the same type of clothing worn by the four, but by the pistols and sharp-looking cutlasses at their waists. A second glance was warranted by many to Captain Jack Sparrow's dreadlocks and kohl-darkened eyes. The Captain lead the small pack down the street towards a row of small shops. He stopped just outside the door of a small, old-fashioned shop with 18th century decorations and items on display.
The manager of the store, Mr. Halloway was a small slight man with wire-rimmed spectacles and a mop of dark brown hair. His glasses were too large for his face and made him look smaller than he really was. He looked up from his new book on the living habits of early-eighteenth century pirates and almost toppled off his chair and knocked over his bottle of Pepsi from the shock of seeing what couldn't possibly be true. The man standing in front of him was the spitting image of the pirate captain in his book-Captain Jack Sparrow. There was a depiction of an early WANTED poster in the chapter about village life with his picture. No, that can't be right…I've worked in this shop for much too long. Being around all these period pieces and artifacts are beginning to affect my sanity. He's probably just involved in a reenactment of early life in the 18th century. The manager had almost convinced himself that he wasn't losing his sanity when he heard the man in front of him speak. The confident, almost cocky mannered man spoke eloquently, like an educated man, yet somehow with a certain roughness that made you come to the belief that he hadn't had an easy life by most standards of the modern person.
"Excuse me there, mate, but ye wouldn't perchance happen to know where be the nearest shipwright, would ye?"
This time, Mr. Halloway did knock over his Pepsi. Not only did he notice the speech of the man was very close to that of the average villager a few hundred years ago, but he saw the cutlass and pistol fastened to his well-worn leather belt.
"Erm, uh, sir, it's-it's illegal to carry weapons in puh-public in the state of new-New York", stuttered Mr. Halloway.
"Hmmm. Well, me and me mates here 'aven't been 'round here before, and had no knowledge of any such law. We're going to just be pretending that you hadn't said that, alright there, mate?" Captain Jack stated this while calmly cleaning remaining bits of rust and dried blood off of his trusty cutlass. He looked down his nose at the man trying to regain his composure in front of him with a confident smirk. He couldn't remember a time when a person had failed to understand his "point of view". This man was certainly no exception.
Ooooooh, why, why did I let that meddling sister of mine convince me to go on that blind date? First rule of dating; never let yourself be set up by relatives. They all say they only have your "best interests" at heart, and therefore set you up with someone completely SAFE, so that you're guaranteed to have a perfectly uneventful, boring evening. Unless, of course, you follow my brilliant plan, and drink three bottles of wine at your date's expense. That way, your evening isn't uneventful and boring, it's uneventful, boring, embarrassing, and painful the following morning. Why can't I ever meet anyone remotely interesting? Unfortunately, I can't dwell on that now. I'm about three hours late for work, and if I somehow don't turn up again there is no way I'm gonna through the week without another lovely pink slip to add to my records. I need coffee…thought Monica Turner as she woke up from last nights drunken stupor. She clutched her head as the aftereffects of last night's date-if it could be called that sprung into full effect. The room spun as she slowly sat up on the disheveled, lumpy mattress of her dingy apartment.
Her parents had never approved of her choice to go and live in the city. They had told her that she would never make it on her own in such a large and overcrowded city. How could she possibly take care of herself and maintain an apartment when she daily forgot to feed the chickens on the family farm? This constant criticism and subtle hints at her incompetence made her even more obstinate to refuse financial help and requests to "come back to the farm", even though she was struggling to pay rent each month and had trouble showing up on time for her part time job at the local bar; Al's Pub.
She knew she was on the brink of being fired, and it was only the fact that her womanizing, sexist boss enjoyed pinching her behind every time she walked by in the required uniform that was standard to every waitress who worked there. This "uniform" was made up of an extremely short denim skirt, and too-tight white T-shirt that clearly showed her bra underneath, and left absolutely nothing to the imagination. All the waiters had normal, conservative uniforms compromised of slacks and collared shirts. She hated her job, but knew she couldn't quit.
All of the restaurants within reasonable walking distance (she couldn't afford a cab, and didn't own a car) of her apartment didn't need help, or told her she didn't have enough experience. How am I supposed to "gain experience" if I can't get a job anywhere? She thought.
Her boss wasn't the only problem she had at her Al's. The frequent clientele had something to be lacked. Most of them hit on her frequently and were almost always drunk. At least they had an excuse for acted so appallingly, but it was the ones who weren't drunk that bothered her. This wasn't exactly the safest part of New York City, and the crime rate was higher than most areas. You never know what kind of person could be lurking behind the day's newspaper. Not that a newspaper would be hard to find in the Pub, as the floors were littered with every kind of trash, and hardly ever cleaned, except when the waiters and waitresses couldn't stand the mess any longer. Al never saw the point of hiring a cleaning staff. Then again, he never saw the point of much, except drinking excessive amounts of booze and making money. Monica was really beginning to regret her choice to live in the city.
No matter how bad my job is, it makes for a living. And if I don't want to lose it, I better get moving. She groaned as she wrenched her way through the motions of getting ready to leave the house. How had her life got this way? She used to be a promising high school student with straight A's. She was considered a shoo-in for most Ivy League schools. Why had she given it up for this?