Hey! This is my first fanfic, so I hope you all enjoy it! As strange as it sounds this idea came up very randomly in my head and it really just never left. I hope you all enjoy it, this story is like a mix of Enchanted and Pirates of the Caribbean. I thought that it could be funny, actually. So here it is, if you like it, please, please, pleaseeee, let me know, lol.
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own the stuff related to Pirates of the Caribbean. All I do own, is the plot and the main characters like Loraine Sanders, Michael, and Holloway (who is only known by Holloway).
Chapter One: Crappy Reports and Stormy Droppings
Her foot tapped rapidly, unsure how she had even last this entire day. Her fingers typed sentences rapidly to get her work done. Tik, tok, tik, tok, the clock behind her wouldn't stop its countdown for her to leave the goddamn place. The chatter of coworkers were sounding in her ears, but no one came to chat with her. Usually she'd feel left out about it, but now, she was happy that there was absolutely no distractions keeping her from her job. The deadline for the worst article was only minutes away from being done. She finished the last sentences in her boring font of Times New Roman.
She trailed the mouse up to the print button, and printed the article titled, 'Saving the Environment, One Can at a Time.' It was one full page of typed sentences about a Manhattan elementary school, recycling cans from fellow students. Yeah, very special to be written to millions. The article only had potential to be three sentences, but she at least dragged it on to the full length of the page so it could be something worth reading, if it was possible.
The page was printed and it laid facing up. She walked over taking the freshly printed paper in her hand, the dreaded piece of writing was finally done. Thank God. She had gotten up and walked toward her boss' office with the paper firmly in her hand, she didn't bother knocking at all already knowing that she was the only person that he was waiting for. When she entered, he looked away from his mac and on her as she stomped in and slammed it on his desk with an impatient gleam in her eyes. "This is crap." She stated and Holloway looked at her like she was out of her mind.
She repeated, "You had given me crap to work on. Bull shit. This isn't a story for me, it's what a seventh grader on the school paper considers as a tough story. Hardcore, my ass."
Holloway responded to his employee's sudden outburst, "Loraine, what have I told you about knocking? This is a workplace, not a cafeteria. And this is a good story I knew was your level, I thought it to be perfect for you." While his voice was calm and at peace her temper was fuming through her veins, she placed her hands on her hips annoyed. Her level, yeah, definitely her level, she was trained for hardcore stories, not about kids recycling, only parents look at that stuff and cheer. Murders, bank robberies, car accidents, political scandals, something along those lines would only make her feel happy. Maybe even sports! But not this, this was just... humiliating.
"No, it is not." She replied, keeping her tone even. "I've been trained to do stories that are at least readable. But," she couldn't even find a name to describe it, "this is humiliating. When the issue comes out, I probably just want to hide in my bed forever and never step a foot out of my apartment again. I'm ashamed that I actually had to type out something like this. And you lied to me, you said that this story would be the most important in the paper!"
"If I told you otherwise, would you still do it?" Before she could even answer, he continued, "Don't answer that, you always mess up somehow every big story I give you. So, excuse me if you can't handle it, but," why was there always a but? Couldn't he do the very least in giving her some respect to not add on or continue on? To just shut up when she wanted him to just shut up? She didn't need this at all. It was horrible enough. Though, she didn't want to, she listened to him anyway, "you are one of my best and youngest writers with an attitude that couldn't be reckoned with. You just..." he trailed off not finding the right word for her to even continue.
Loraine held up her hand for him to just stop. She really didn't want to hear it at all, "Just, don't continue. I'm not paying attention and you're wasting mine and your time by doing so." The twenty-eight year old shook her head and added, "I wanted to give it to you for you to read it over and complain that this was embarrassing to write and no one is going to read it because, frankly, no one cares. This article could've been done in at least three sentences because it's just that simple a monkey could write it. I'm insulted to even have it saved on my computer. But that would be all I want to tell you at the moment. I'm glad the day's over and if you run it, let me know, so I can get my paper bag out. Alright? Alright. Have a nice night."
The short and round man had checked over that small, well thought through speech that she had spoken to him and recognized the halfhearted, sarcasm she used when saying her goodbye. He rolled his eyes as she turned on her heel to leave. As Holloway went back to his work, he bid her goodbye in the same tone. She didn't even realize, nor cared. She exited his office with a frown and went into her small desk that was blocked with walls, making it a square missing a side. It was almost like an office, but still it was hard to even have a bit of focus or privacy that she needed. Loraine took her small coat, putting her arms through the holes of the sleeves with it partly going down to the hem of her pencil skirt that barely covered her knees.
Loraine sighed, shutting off her computer and then taking her black purse that was firmly next to it. Coming from a long line of journalists, she knew that she is disgracing the Sanders line. She hurried to the elevator and avoiding all the people calling her name, she wasn't in the mood to talk. Loraine only wanted to go home, and stay there until she would die. But one brave soul blocked the elevator button with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. It was actually her favorite kind, which was strange because she never told this man her favorite kind of flowers.
She gulped, backing away from him either knowing they were her favorite, which was just creepy, or him having the nerve to block her way. Otherwise, she brought the most fake smile on her face as she greeted him politely, "Michael," she was practically speechless on what to say to him, what was there to say to him? Nothing, nothing was there. She only shook her head in shock and finished with a, "wow." He would take that as a compliment when it was meant as a shocking insult.
He smiled broadly, "You, me, Umbertos tonight. What do you say?" He pushed the red roses in her face as a way to force her to grab the stemming of it that was hidden under a white bow. What a great way to get her long day at work interesting, no, not really.
Her smile turned from fake to apologetically and she pushed them back toward him. Michael took them back from, but nevertheless he was confused on the reason of why he was doing this. She stated with him with fake sincerity, "I would love to go with you, really I would, but I've had a long day and that's all the way in Queens, I can't ask you to—."
"Actually, it's not that far. It's at least thirty minutes by car." He was right, Queens really wasn't that far at all. She gulped, this was going to be harder than she thought it would be.
"But thirty minutes with a cab is so much. It's expensive, plus it's Friday night, imagine how long the wait is to get in?" She continued to persuade to him, but figured that breaking the poor kid's heart wasn't worth it today. Loraine shook her head and pushed back her red hair, slightly giving up, "We'll have a rain check. Some other time, I'd be happy to join you for dinner." That was mostly because free meals from that place was always a necessity in her life. She was a sucker for Italian food. "But for right now, I just want to go home and relax."
Michael brought his bright smile even wider to reach both of his ears, it was amazing how he would look forward to stuff like this when she really didn't give a crap. "But at least take the roses, I know they're your favorite."
She bit her tongue from the insult starting to form on the edge of her tongue and actually took them in her hands feeling the white ribbon again. With that, he stepped aside and bowed his head almost as if he was waiting for a thank you from her so he could say you're welcome. She muttered a quick thanks, pressing the button as the elevator doors opened in front of her immediately she hurried in. Loraine looked at her small watch around her wrist and noticed that she was leaving just in time for rush hour. Five o'clock, great, that was just great. She knew she would never get a taxi, it was nearly impossible.
Loraine sighed annoyed and was starting to plan her long walk to her apartment.
The fierce storm thrashed on the Caribbean Sea trying to take down the ship that was still sailing strongly through. Her black sails bellowed through the howling wind and with the pounding sounds of drops of rain and thunder with lightening, the Captain's orders were faintly heard by the crew over it all. He stood at the helm with his hand tightly on the wheel and his compass firmly in his other. His dark hair that was set into dreadlocks and his dark eyes seemed even darker as he struggled to keep the ship on course. Jack Sparrow hadn't seen a storm like this since he had... actually he couldn't at all remember a storm like this one.
He looked up at the sky and saw it swirling like it was something inside of a caldron stirring some potion. Despite everything, Jack looked at it with his eyebrow raised, now that was something that he had only seen once, but this time was different. Though the sky around him was dark and rainy, and slightly foggy, there was a bit of sun with pavements of blue in the inescapable small hole that he had caught.
"Captain!" His first mate came up to him, calling his name, which he had done several times to bring him out of his thoughts. Jack finally glanced by his shoulder to see Gibbs soaked and heaving in and out heavily. "We should drop canvas!"
Jack shook his head and with his voice calm and content, he replied, "We can get out of this, mate. She could hold a bit longer." Gibbs didn't have time to argue with him, but right when he opened his mouth they heard a snapping of rope onto the main deck. Their heads snapped toward it, with both of their eyes locked onto it. They were bulging out and Jack without hesitation handed the helm to Gibbs, who actually took it unsure. Before Jack had left the helm, he stated to him, "Take care of her while I fix that damned thing."
Before Gibbs could respond, Jack rushed down to the main deck and to the rope that had snapped out of its firm knot. The crew of the Black Pearl, like him, were struggling to get the ship sailing through without a problem. When he made it, he looked around to see who had done this inexcusable action. But he didn't have time for this. He had to fix it, of course. He pulled down on the rope, muttering curses, annoyed that he even had to fix this at the certain time at hand.
"Whoever had done this, will be dead when they face the likes of me. This is a poor excuse of knotting. Call themselves sailors, rotten brig—." He was interrupted by a shining light that had shone down on him and him alone. He looked slowly up and it seemed almost like the hold had grown gapingly. The pouring rain never seemed to subside along with the darkness around the hole and the shouts of the crew complaints was still there as well. But that didn't at all stop his curious eyes roaming the hole that had firmly laid itself in the night sky.
Jack was close to the railing and his hands slowed down to a halt as he continued gazing at it. The Pearl rocked back and forth by the rough waves of the sea. They were high, reaching to almost the top of the hull. As Gibbs turned the wheel roughly the ship slightly tilted turning away from a strike of lightening, a wave crashed onto it suddenly making the deck flood with water. Jack still didn't realize, his eyes locked onto the spot of sunlight. Were they almost out? Were they close to the end?
Before Jack could even think, the rope slipped out of his hands and he yelped as it flew away with the howling winds. The ship continued to thrash through the Caribbean water and as Jack made an effort to actually jump and catch the blasted ship, it shifted roughly from under his feet. Caught off guard, Jack was thrown off the side, trying to keep himself up by holding himself up with one hand on the railing. He looked down into the dark water while shouting assistance from at least someone, but of course, only one person decided to help him.
Cotton lent out his hand for Jack to grab and Jack looked at it fiercely and pointedly before trying to grab it with his other hand. Missing on several attempts. When Jack felt his hand slipping, he suddenly heard the strangest noises. No longer paying attention to the situation at hand, his eyes narrowed at where the curious sounds that were coming to his ears were being heard from. He looked down to see the reflection of the hole in the sky, the spot of sunlight with a pale blue draped around it. It looked like it had gotten bigger, waiting for him.
Jack gulped and looked back at Cotton who was still trying to help him. "Bugger." He muttered, feeling his fingers slowly drop into the regular positions instead of the gripping one that they really needed to do at the moment. Jack, nevertheless, still tried to grab Cotton's hand, but only found the disturbances below, maddening for one like him to even think with the howling winds surrounding him as well, but they were louder than those winds along with thunder, which was shocking. Finally, Jack's hand was removed from the railing and wailing with his arms failing to make him flap back to deck, he almost felt like he was falling a never ending fall when he should be hearing a splash softly.
But instead of water, Jack hit something hard and warm that you could cook an egg on top of it. Jack's eyes widened, suddenly seeing an urban city that was nothing like anything that he had seen before. People walking around wearing the strangest clothes, and foreign machines that were motionless on pavement, causing the sounds that he had heard while falling down from his ship. Jack looked up to the sky, hoping that his ship was just above, but nothing was there, not even the drops of rain coming down hard. It was as clear as ever. Jack's eyes grew wider when he realized, this was not the Caribbean and he was not supposed to be here at the moment.
So did I do good? Lol, I hope I caught at least some interests out there, hopefully this story would turn out how I want it, writing wise. Let me know if you all like it! Review?