This fic was written for the fic challenge given by Bitchy Little Pixy. Is that not the best pen
name ever?
*****
Jack Sparrow- CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow, had been having quite the enjoyable few months
lately. He was back on the Black Pearl. Barbossa was dead and his men, or what remained of
them, were in jail (or perhaps, mused Jack, had made good friends with the executioner). Jack's
new crew admired their captain and worked his beloved vessel unquestioningly, and the whole
lot sailed from port to port, occasionally visiting Will and Elizabeth, happy couple as they were.
Yes, life was rich and full.
"So, what say, Love? Care to visit my cabin and have a little fun this evening?" Jack
winked at Anamaria and was met with a resounding 'SMACK!', the sound of Anamaria's open
palm coming into contact with the side of his head at seemingly supernatural high speed. Jack
blinked once to refocus his eyes, then grinned to Anamaria once more. "Alright, then, maybe
some other time!" He continued grinning a bit dazedly as he watched her stalk down the stairs
toward the mess area. "I love it when they play hard-to-get," he intoned conversationally to
himself.
The Black Pearl, sans Barbossa-era black sails and now sporting unobtrusive white
canvas, was pulling near a port town. And oh, what a lovely little settlement is was. Full of nice
little immigrants from the motherland, settling down nicely on this nice little island of Barbados,
with their nice houses and nice things and nice stacks of gold in their nice little safety boxes, all
right there for some nice little pirates to come along and take. Nicely, of course.
But, also of course, Jack had recently received a rather great deal of attitude adjustment,
and he was rather disinclined to raid any towns. After all- the residents were, in all likelihood,
very NICE people.
Be that as it may, the Black Pearl was nearly out of supplies. One-third of a water barrel
left, and the galley stores had near run out. Most likely had Gibbs to thank for that, but what
could you do? Well, one thing you could do was make a visit to the local market, so to speak.
They had stores enough to feed the rest of the islands, and then some, so it wasn't the biggest of
matters, really. Right? Right.
Jack swayed just a bit as he walked to the helm. He took it in one hand and made a
shooing motion to Gibbs, who'd taken it up in Anamaria's absence (who had been taking it in
Jack's). Gibbs sauntered off, taking a quick swig from his flask as he did so. Jack looked around
at the crew, then shouted his commands as they came into a sort of bay, just a bit off of the main
town. "Weigh anchor! Raise sails!" He looked around at the crew and saw a small group just
standing around, waiting. "And you three," Jack demanded, pointing to them, "lower the
longboat. . . if you'd be SO kind." He grinned his usual 'somehow-winning-despite-those-teeth'
grin, and the crew members obeyed easily enough.
Once the Black Pearl had been laid to anchor in the calm waters that were a product of the
encompassing sandbars, a few choice members of the crew piled into the longboat that had been
lowered into the water. Amongst these were Gibbs and Anamaria, Gibbs because Jack knew him
well and Anamaria because. . . well. . . Jack just couldn't help himself. He knew she'd stick
around- very few pirates got as much plunder as those that sailed with Captain Jack Sparrow.
And he intended to take full advantage of that fact. For now, things were looking good for Jack.
The small longboat was rowed to shore easily enough in the calm water, and left easily
accessible for when they came back. The small group made its way to town through the sparse
foliage and trees. The port town was known as 'King's Lay', and Jack had to struggle to keep
himself from snickering at that. It became infinitely easier to do so once Anamaria had elbowed
him pointedly in the ribs.
Once they'd made their way casually into town, Jack sauntering ahead in the lead with
Anamaria and Gibbs behind him, and two others bringing up the rear. The streets of this town
were busy, about the same level of being crowded as you'd expect to see in Port Royale (which
Jack had begun to use as a base of judgement on all other towns). Spotting the marketplace, Jack
looked behind him at his temporarily small crew, cracking a wide grin.
"Well, gents - and m'lady - our plan is thus: You two-" he nodded at the two behind
Anamaria and Gibbs, "- will each be in charge of a barrel of water. Don't worry about trying to
conceal what you're doing, I'll take care of that. And dear Anamaria and Mr. Gibbs, you two and
myself will grab what we can in food, make our escape, and be back on the Black Pearl within an
hour, savvy?"
The crew members nodded and followed Jack complacently into the marketplace,
spreading themselves around to watch Jack work on a particular stall owner that he'd
approached. None of the crew failed to notice that, along with barrels of water and a decent food
stock, the particular stall Jack had chosen displayed several bottles of an amber-tinted liquid.
Jack had, of course, found the stall with rum.
"Well, mate, what're you planning on selling these for?" questioned Jack, pointing
vaguely in the direction of the water barrels and grinning lopsidedly. The stout shopkeeper
crossed his arms and looked generally irritated by the question.
"Four shillings each. Rain's been a mite scarce 'ere as of late."
Jack put on an overly startled look. "Four? Is that all?"
The stall keeper didn't look quite sure what to make of this. ". . . Eh?"
"Only four shillings?" specified Jack. His brow creased as though he were perplexed.
". . . Aye."
"Well there must be something wrong with them," finished Jack, making as if to walk
away disdainfully. The crew members couldn't help but exchange amused glances. Anamaria and
Gibbs had been sidling around the sides of the stall and eyeing some sacks of food. Anamaria's
hand twitched centimeters away from the loop of a sack that appeared to be full of potatoes or
yams. Gibbs was eyeing two crates stamped 'SALT PORK 17-3'.
"'Ey, now!" said the shopkeeper quickly, motioning for Jack to wait, obviously not
wanting to lost business from someone that thought four shillings was a low price. "This 'ere is
GOOD water, ma- er, SIR."
Jack stopped in his swaying walk and whirled around to face the stall keeper again. "Is it,
now? Well then, I wouldn't make the purchase for any less than five shillings."
The guard frowned again. "GOOD water, SIR, an' I 'ave such confidence in it as I'll
lower th' price to three shillings an' a 'alf penny!"
"Six shillings!" Jack countered.
"Three!"
"Eight!"
"Two!"
"Ten!"
"One an' a 'alf penny!"
There was a tense silence between the two. Gibbs and Anamaria were walking away now,
Anamaria with the sack of potatoes or yams or whatever the bloody hell they'd been as well as
another sack of what appeared to be oranges slung over her shoulder. Gibbs had the two crates of
pork and - God bless him and his whole family - had slipped the necks of two bottles of rum
under his belt and they sloshed pleasantly as he walked away at an even, calm pace. Jack
suddenly whipped his head toward the food. "How much is your dried fish?" He pointed to said
dried fish, as if the water incident hadn't happened at all.
"GET ON WITH YEH!" shouted the stall keeper. "AWAY WITH YE NOW!!" Jack
started walking away, but backwards so as to face the man, his dark eyes keeping contact with
this adversary's small piggy ones. Jack, however, noted out of the corner of his eye, that the
remaining two crew members were now rolling away the barrels of water that had previously
been under discussion. Jack clapped his hands together and bowed to the stall keeper slightly.
"I shall be getting on, sir, and I do apologize for taking so much of your time. Really and
truly. It'll never happen again, I can assure you." He continued to grin, taking away from some of
the validity of the claim.
"Aye, now GO." The stall keeper turned away in an angry huff, to talk to some women in
plain clothes that had drawn his attentions and apparently, from what Jack could hear, were
looking for the nearest loo.
'Women and their loo. . . always going in pairs, always. . . hrm,' thought Jack to himself,
noting that the stall keeper's attentions were sufficiently drawn away from his stock. Jack walked
merrily past the stall once more, not neglecting to nonchalantly loop his hand around the opening
of one of the sacks. It was a bit heavy, but that probably just meant it was something better. He
slung it over his shoulder (with a bit more effort than he would have liked; perhaps it was heavier
than he thought), and from the bumping on his back as he walked away casually, he supposed it
might be a slaughtered pig. Well wasn't that just enchanting. Would make for a good meal for
the crew, though.
Jack arrived back at the longboat, now loaded up with the water barrels, crates, and sacks,
the crew members waiting patiently enough for him. Except, of course, for Anamaria.
"Took your time, I see," she shot at him as soon as he emerged rather grandly from
behind a large fern. He blinked once in the slightly brighter light then ambled over to the
longboat, gingerly laying the single sack he'd taken on top of Anamaria's two.
"No worries, no hurries, Love," he grinned, ducking a slap that she had aimed at his head.
Gibbs cleared his throat.
"Alright, alright, we best be gettin' back t' th' Pearl, mates! W-" He stopped upon
receiving a sharp look from Jack.
"That'll do, Gibbs," nodded Jack. "Now, let's get going!" He motioned to the Black
Pearl, sitting calmly in the slightly shallow(er) waters. The four other members of the crew sat
down on the planks crossing the longboat that served as seats, and Jack stood in the bow, looking
overly dramatic as usual. There had been one occasion that Anamaria recalled that had involved
Jack being drunk and falling into the water when standing in the longboat like this. She had, of
course, been amused for the rest of the fortnight mocking him about it. Unfortunately, this time
there was no such accident, and they made it back to the Black Pearl in a matter of minutes.
The supplies were hauled up. It wasn't much variety, to be sure, but nobody was going to
complain. Cooked up right, just about anything could make a suitable meal on a ship.
"Wha' yeh got in yer sack, Jack?" piped up one crew member. Jack eyed said burlap sack
with a scrutinizing glance.
"Not quite sure, really. Thought it might be a pig." He grinned, knowing that you didn't
see much of that on the Black Pearl anymore, now that Barbossa and his upper-class tastes were
gone. The crew responded to this with an excited muttering. Jack leaned down and picked up his
sack, untying the knot on top in one quick motion. He frowned slightly. Something seemed off
about the shape that was pushing out the sides of the burlap. Something a bit too familiar about
it.
Jack overturned the sack and let the contents drop the very short distance of about twenty
centimeters to land on the deck. The entire crew froze, a complete silence dropped over them like
a heavy blanket. Anamaria finally found words.
"You brought us a little GIRL."
After the break in the silence, the whole crew started yelling at once. Jack barely heard
them as he stared down in mild horror at the child lying unconscious on the deck. She was either
African or Jamaican, her hair in small braids. Jack continued staring at her with morbid
fascination as the crew started to fall silent, confused at his reaction. Well how the hell else was
he SUPPOSED to react? Jack had stolen, lied, cheated, fought, threatened, killed when it was
necessary, yes, but dear God, he had never done anything to a CHILD, by accident or otherwise.
And now he had stolen a little girl. A bloody LITTLE GIRL. She was so small.
"Slave," Gibbs finally murmured. "Has to have been. Why else would she'a been in a
sack like that? Even so, s'not proper, keepin' a child like that. . ." he trailed off. Jack now
appeared to be deeply perplexed.
"No. . . not right at all," added Anamaria quietly. Her surprise had dissipated once Gibbs
mentioned slavery, a growing trend in the islands, and in the colonies up north, if rumors were
true. "She stays," finished Anamaria finally.
Jack nodded. "Right, we'll be retur- she WHAT?!"
"We're not bringing her back there!" Anamaria responded hotly, jabbing a finger back
towards the town. "They left her in a SACK!"
"Well, where would YOU have put her?" returned Jack. Anamaria looked so shocked at
the absurdity of the question that he took the opportunity to add, "A-hah, just what I thought.
You can't think of any place to put her eith-"
"That's not the point!" she countered quickly, before he could finish. She pointed down at
the girl. "Jack, look at her! She's not well! At LEAST let her stay for a while. A week. We can
come around again in a week."
"Four days."
"Week and a half."
"Five days."
"Two weeks."
"Six."
"Three weeks."
"A week."
"Deal." Anamaria grinned. The crew glanced at one another, impressed that the woman
had managed to outbargain Jack. One or two wondered if he might've been inclined to bend a bit
for her and snickered lightly to themselves. Jack muttered and began to walk back to the helm
before another call from Anamaria stopped him. "Jack Sparrow!"
Jack rolled his eyes and turned around. "Captain. CAPTAIN. . . and what?"
"You're just leaving her here on the deck?!"
"I-" he stopped short at the mildly terrifying look on her face. He started again. "I
wouldn't dream of it, Love." He gave an overly dramatic (as well as sarcastic) bow, and scooped
up the limp form of the girl. He turned on his heal and started to carry her to the crew's bunks.
"CAPTAIN Sparrow!"
Jack whirled around again. "WHA-AT?!" he groaned loudly.
"You think she's fit to stay with the crew? She stays in your cabin."
"She stays WHERE?!"
"Your cabin, or I pitch the rum in your sleep tonight."
"I-" Jack stopped, now bordering on infuriated. "FINE. Why doesn't the whole bloody
CREW just stay in my cabin? That way we can ALL be happy, and we'll be one BIG
BLEEDING FAMILY, and. . ." his ranting trailed not off, but to a lower volume as he marched
into his cabin with the girl in his arms. He was still muttering to himself after he set her on his
bed when he realized that the door to his cabin was open and a good portion of the crew was
staring at him. His eyes widened in shock and he quickly slammed the door.
None of the crew had ever seen him angry, or even upset, until today. Needless to say,
they were somewhat shocked themselves.
Back in his cabin, Jack was pacing back and forth, throwing (ironically) mutinous glances
at the small girl. He was thinking (and drinking) as he gestured slightly in the air in front of him.
He muttered slightly as he did so.
"Well of COURSE we're going to keep her. . . had to bloody grab that. . . and she's
staying in MY. . . only for a week, though. . . bargained her d- wait, didn't she. . .?" He sighed,
somewhat disgusted. He started to talk to himself again when he heard a thump. He whirled
around and looked at the chair where he'd set the girl. Oh, she was gone. Fantastic. Yes.
Jack looked around slowly. The door hadn't opened, and the room was only so big. There
weren't THAT many places she could have gone. Bed? No. Chest? No, it would've made noise. .
.Under the bed? Quite possible. Jack, not one to worry about his dignity in front of nobody but
himself, quickly lay down on his stomach, looking under the bed. Was the girl there? Of course
not. Of. Bloody. Course not.
He'd defeated Barbossa, gotten back his beautiful Pearl, made friends with Will and
Elizabeth, two nobles if there ever were ones, put a curse on himself and managed to retract it
again, caught up to his own ship in a storm with a half-mad pirate crew from Tortuga, and now a
tiny girl had vanished from under his nose when he turned his back for thirty seconds.
A light tap on his shoulder.
"WHOOZAT?!" shouted Jack, probably a good deal more startled than he should have
been by the simple tap. The girl was standing above him, face blank, eyes wide. Jack paused,
then pushed himself up and crouched down at eye-level with the girl. He narrowed his eyes,
surveying her, then said finally, at length, ". . . You're good. I'll give you that." Looked her up
and down once more. "Got a name, dearie?"
The girl shook her head.
"No name."
Shook it again.
"So you DO have a name?"
Nodded.
"The why'd you shake your head at first?"
Shrugged.
"Well, now that you've revealed that you do indeed have a name. . . would you like to tell
Uncle Jacky?"
Shook her head. Jack sighed. "Of course you wouldn't." He stood up and turned away,
beginning to pace his cabin again, when a small voice, barely audible and almost supernaturally
high in pitch, uttered, "Car'lyn."
Jack froze in mid step then, in the way that only Jack would, kneeled down next to the
girl, putting his face very near to hers. "Your name is Carolyn?"
Nodded.
"Well!" exclaimed Jack jovially, standing up again and clapping his hands together.
"Pleasure to meet you, madam. I-" he paused for dramatic effect "-am Captain Jack Sparrow." He
took off his hat and bowed. The look on the little girl- Carolyn's- face remained blank, if not
somewhat horrified. Jack was, to put it mildly, surprised when he suddenly found her clinging to
his leg. "Ehm. . . dearie, would you mind much if I could have my leg back?"
Jack would never dream of harming a child. That didn't mean he was overly fond of
them, either. They were loud- well, this one wasn't, but you never could tell- messy, needy,
whiny, clinging (which this one happened to be), and Jack honestly didn't have the time to
captain a ship and play father at the same time.
Well wasn't this week going to be FUN.
*****
So! That's the first chapter, and, to Bitchy Little Pixy: I hope it's fit to your tastes! If anyone
shows any particular interest in this, I'll continue, because I've got an idea of visiting Elizabeth
and Will in this fic, as well as pairing up Jack and Anamaria in the end. Can't say what'll happen
to Carolyn just yet, though.
Review if you like, don't if you don't! Or do if you don't! Or don't if you do! Thanks much!
name ever?
*****
Jack Sparrow- CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow, had been having quite the enjoyable few months
lately. He was back on the Black Pearl. Barbossa was dead and his men, or what remained of
them, were in jail (or perhaps, mused Jack, had made good friends with the executioner). Jack's
new crew admired their captain and worked his beloved vessel unquestioningly, and the whole
lot sailed from port to port, occasionally visiting Will and Elizabeth, happy couple as they were.
Yes, life was rich and full.
"So, what say, Love? Care to visit my cabin and have a little fun this evening?" Jack
winked at Anamaria and was met with a resounding 'SMACK!', the sound of Anamaria's open
palm coming into contact with the side of his head at seemingly supernatural high speed. Jack
blinked once to refocus his eyes, then grinned to Anamaria once more. "Alright, then, maybe
some other time!" He continued grinning a bit dazedly as he watched her stalk down the stairs
toward the mess area. "I love it when they play hard-to-get," he intoned conversationally to
himself.
The Black Pearl, sans Barbossa-era black sails and now sporting unobtrusive white
canvas, was pulling near a port town. And oh, what a lovely little settlement is was. Full of nice
little immigrants from the motherland, settling down nicely on this nice little island of Barbados,
with their nice houses and nice things and nice stacks of gold in their nice little safety boxes, all
right there for some nice little pirates to come along and take. Nicely, of course.
But, also of course, Jack had recently received a rather great deal of attitude adjustment,
and he was rather disinclined to raid any towns. After all- the residents were, in all likelihood,
very NICE people.
Be that as it may, the Black Pearl was nearly out of supplies. One-third of a water barrel
left, and the galley stores had near run out. Most likely had Gibbs to thank for that, but what
could you do? Well, one thing you could do was make a visit to the local market, so to speak.
They had stores enough to feed the rest of the islands, and then some, so it wasn't the biggest of
matters, really. Right? Right.
Jack swayed just a bit as he walked to the helm. He took it in one hand and made a
shooing motion to Gibbs, who'd taken it up in Anamaria's absence (who had been taking it in
Jack's). Gibbs sauntered off, taking a quick swig from his flask as he did so. Jack looked around
at the crew, then shouted his commands as they came into a sort of bay, just a bit off of the main
town. "Weigh anchor! Raise sails!" He looked around at the crew and saw a small group just
standing around, waiting. "And you three," Jack demanded, pointing to them, "lower the
longboat. . . if you'd be SO kind." He grinned his usual 'somehow-winning-despite-those-teeth'
grin, and the crew members obeyed easily enough.
Once the Black Pearl had been laid to anchor in the calm waters that were a product of the
encompassing sandbars, a few choice members of the crew piled into the longboat that had been
lowered into the water. Amongst these were Gibbs and Anamaria, Gibbs because Jack knew him
well and Anamaria because. . . well. . . Jack just couldn't help himself. He knew she'd stick
around- very few pirates got as much plunder as those that sailed with Captain Jack Sparrow.
And he intended to take full advantage of that fact. For now, things were looking good for Jack.
The small longboat was rowed to shore easily enough in the calm water, and left easily
accessible for when they came back. The small group made its way to town through the sparse
foliage and trees. The port town was known as 'King's Lay', and Jack had to struggle to keep
himself from snickering at that. It became infinitely easier to do so once Anamaria had elbowed
him pointedly in the ribs.
Once they'd made their way casually into town, Jack sauntering ahead in the lead with
Anamaria and Gibbs behind him, and two others bringing up the rear. The streets of this town
were busy, about the same level of being crowded as you'd expect to see in Port Royale (which
Jack had begun to use as a base of judgement on all other towns). Spotting the marketplace, Jack
looked behind him at his temporarily small crew, cracking a wide grin.
"Well, gents - and m'lady - our plan is thus: You two-" he nodded at the two behind
Anamaria and Gibbs, "- will each be in charge of a barrel of water. Don't worry about trying to
conceal what you're doing, I'll take care of that. And dear Anamaria and Mr. Gibbs, you two and
myself will grab what we can in food, make our escape, and be back on the Black Pearl within an
hour, savvy?"
The crew members nodded and followed Jack complacently into the marketplace,
spreading themselves around to watch Jack work on a particular stall owner that he'd
approached. None of the crew failed to notice that, along with barrels of water and a decent food
stock, the particular stall Jack had chosen displayed several bottles of an amber-tinted liquid.
Jack had, of course, found the stall with rum.
"Well, mate, what're you planning on selling these for?" questioned Jack, pointing
vaguely in the direction of the water barrels and grinning lopsidedly. The stout shopkeeper
crossed his arms and looked generally irritated by the question.
"Four shillings each. Rain's been a mite scarce 'ere as of late."
Jack put on an overly startled look. "Four? Is that all?"
The stall keeper didn't look quite sure what to make of this. ". . . Eh?"
"Only four shillings?" specified Jack. His brow creased as though he were perplexed.
". . . Aye."
"Well there must be something wrong with them," finished Jack, making as if to walk
away disdainfully. The crew members couldn't help but exchange amused glances. Anamaria and
Gibbs had been sidling around the sides of the stall and eyeing some sacks of food. Anamaria's
hand twitched centimeters away from the loop of a sack that appeared to be full of potatoes or
yams. Gibbs was eyeing two crates stamped 'SALT PORK 17-3'.
"'Ey, now!" said the shopkeeper quickly, motioning for Jack to wait, obviously not
wanting to lost business from someone that thought four shillings was a low price. "This 'ere is
GOOD water, ma- er, SIR."
Jack stopped in his swaying walk and whirled around to face the stall keeper again. "Is it,
now? Well then, I wouldn't make the purchase for any less than five shillings."
The guard frowned again. "GOOD water, SIR, an' I 'ave such confidence in it as I'll
lower th' price to three shillings an' a 'alf penny!"
"Six shillings!" Jack countered.
"Three!"
"Eight!"
"Two!"
"Ten!"
"One an' a 'alf penny!"
There was a tense silence between the two. Gibbs and Anamaria were walking away now,
Anamaria with the sack of potatoes or yams or whatever the bloody hell they'd been as well as
another sack of what appeared to be oranges slung over her shoulder. Gibbs had the two crates of
pork and - God bless him and his whole family - had slipped the necks of two bottles of rum
under his belt and they sloshed pleasantly as he walked away at an even, calm pace. Jack
suddenly whipped his head toward the food. "How much is your dried fish?" He pointed to said
dried fish, as if the water incident hadn't happened at all.
"GET ON WITH YEH!" shouted the stall keeper. "AWAY WITH YE NOW!!" Jack
started walking away, but backwards so as to face the man, his dark eyes keeping contact with
this adversary's small piggy ones. Jack, however, noted out of the corner of his eye, that the
remaining two crew members were now rolling away the barrels of water that had previously
been under discussion. Jack clapped his hands together and bowed to the stall keeper slightly.
"I shall be getting on, sir, and I do apologize for taking so much of your time. Really and
truly. It'll never happen again, I can assure you." He continued to grin, taking away from some of
the validity of the claim.
"Aye, now GO." The stall keeper turned away in an angry huff, to talk to some women in
plain clothes that had drawn his attentions and apparently, from what Jack could hear, were
looking for the nearest loo.
'Women and their loo. . . always going in pairs, always. . . hrm,' thought Jack to himself,
noting that the stall keeper's attentions were sufficiently drawn away from his stock. Jack walked
merrily past the stall once more, not neglecting to nonchalantly loop his hand around the opening
of one of the sacks. It was a bit heavy, but that probably just meant it was something better. He
slung it over his shoulder (with a bit more effort than he would have liked; perhaps it was heavier
than he thought), and from the bumping on his back as he walked away casually, he supposed it
might be a slaughtered pig. Well wasn't that just enchanting. Would make for a good meal for
the crew, though.
Jack arrived back at the longboat, now loaded up with the water barrels, crates, and sacks,
the crew members waiting patiently enough for him. Except, of course, for Anamaria.
"Took your time, I see," she shot at him as soon as he emerged rather grandly from
behind a large fern. He blinked once in the slightly brighter light then ambled over to the
longboat, gingerly laying the single sack he'd taken on top of Anamaria's two.
"No worries, no hurries, Love," he grinned, ducking a slap that she had aimed at his head.
Gibbs cleared his throat.
"Alright, alright, we best be gettin' back t' th' Pearl, mates! W-" He stopped upon
receiving a sharp look from Jack.
"That'll do, Gibbs," nodded Jack. "Now, let's get going!" He motioned to the Black
Pearl, sitting calmly in the slightly shallow(er) waters. The four other members of the crew sat
down on the planks crossing the longboat that served as seats, and Jack stood in the bow, looking
overly dramatic as usual. There had been one occasion that Anamaria recalled that had involved
Jack being drunk and falling into the water when standing in the longboat like this. She had, of
course, been amused for the rest of the fortnight mocking him about it. Unfortunately, this time
there was no such accident, and they made it back to the Black Pearl in a matter of minutes.
The supplies were hauled up. It wasn't much variety, to be sure, but nobody was going to
complain. Cooked up right, just about anything could make a suitable meal on a ship.
"Wha' yeh got in yer sack, Jack?" piped up one crew member. Jack eyed said burlap sack
with a scrutinizing glance.
"Not quite sure, really. Thought it might be a pig." He grinned, knowing that you didn't
see much of that on the Black Pearl anymore, now that Barbossa and his upper-class tastes were
gone. The crew responded to this with an excited muttering. Jack leaned down and picked up his
sack, untying the knot on top in one quick motion. He frowned slightly. Something seemed off
about the shape that was pushing out the sides of the burlap. Something a bit too familiar about
it.
Jack overturned the sack and let the contents drop the very short distance of about twenty
centimeters to land on the deck. The entire crew froze, a complete silence dropped over them like
a heavy blanket. Anamaria finally found words.
"You brought us a little GIRL."
After the break in the silence, the whole crew started yelling at once. Jack barely heard
them as he stared down in mild horror at the child lying unconscious on the deck. She was either
African or Jamaican, her hair in small braids. Jack continued staring at her with morbid
fascination as the crew started to fall silent, confused at his reaction. Well how the hell else was
he SUPPOSED to react? Jack had stolen, lied, cheated, fought, threatened, killed when it was
necessary, yes, but dear God, he had never done anything to a CHILD, by accident or otherwise.
And now he had stolen a little girl. A bloody LITTLE GIRL. She was so small.
"Slave," Gibbs finally murmured. "Has to have been. Why else would she'a been in a
sack like that? Even so, s'not proper, keepin' a child like that. . ." he trailed off. Jack now
appeared to be deeply perplexed.
"No. . . not right at all," added Anamaria quietly. Her surprise had dissipated once Gibbs
mentioned slavery, a growing trend in the islands, and in the colonies up north, if rumors were
true. "She stays," finished Anamaria finally.
Jack nodded. "Right, we'll be retur- she WHAT?!"
"We're not bringing her back there!" Anamaria responded hotly, jabbing a finger back
towards the town. "They left her in a SACK!"
"Well, where would YOU have put her?" returned Jack. Anamaria looked so shocked at
the absurdity of the question that he took the opportunity to add, "A-hah, just what I thought.
You can't think of any place to put her eith-"
"That's not the point!" she countered quickly, before he could finish. She pointed down at
the girl. "Jack, look at her! She's not well! At LEAST let her stay for a while. A week. We can
come around again in a week."
"Four days."
"Week and a half."
"Five days."
"Two weeks."
"Six."
"Three weeks."
"A week."
"Deal." Anamaria grinned. The crew glanced at one another, impressed that the woman
had managed to outbargain Jack. One or two wondered if he might've been inclined to bend a bit
for her and snickered lightly to themselves. Jack muttered and began to walk back to the helm
before another call from Anamaria stopped him. "Jack Sparrow!"
Jack rolled his eyes and turned around. "Captain. CAPTAIN. . . and what?"
"You're just leaving her here on the deck?!"
"I-" he stopped short at the mildly terrifying look on her face. He started again. "I
wouldn't dream of it, Love." He gave an overly dramatic (as well as sarcastic) bow, and scooped
up the limp form of the girl. He turned on his heal and started to carry her to the crew's bunks.
"CAPTAIN Sparrow!"
Jack whirled around again. "WHA-AT?!" he groaned loudly.
"You think she's fit to stay with the crew? She stays in your cabin."
"She stays WHERE?!"
"Your cabin, or I pitch the rum in your sleep tonight."
"I-" Jack stopped, now bordering on infuriated. "FINE. Why doesn't the whole bloody
CREW just stay in my cabin? That way we can ALL be happy, and we'll be one BIG
BLEEDING FAMILY, and. . ." his ranting trailed not off, but to a lower volume as he marched
into his cabin with the girl in his arms. He was still muttering to himself after he set her on his
bed when he realized that the door to his cabin was open and a good portion of the crew was
staring at him. His eyes widened in shock and he quickly slammed the door.
None of the crew had ever seen him angry, or even upset, until today. Needless to say,
they were somewhat shocked themselves.
Back in his cabin, Jack was pacing back and forth, throwing (ironically) mutinous glances
at the small girl. He was thinking (and drinking) as he gestured slightly in the air in front of him.
He muttered slightly as he did so.
"Well of COURSE we're going to keep her. . . had to bloody grab that. . . and she's
staying in MY. . . only for a week, though. . . bargained her d- wait, didn't she. . .?" He sighed,
somewhat disgusted. He started to talk to himself again when he heard a thump. He whirled
around and looked at the chair where he'd set the girl. Oh, she was gone. Fantastic. Yes.
Jack looked around slowly. The door hadn't opened, and the room was only so big. There
weren't THAT many places she could have gone. Bed? No. Chest? No, it would've made noise. .
.Under the bed? Quite possible. Jack, not one to worry about his dignity in front of nobody but
himself, quickly lay down on his stomach, looking under the bed. Was the girl there? Of course
not. Of. Bloody. Course not.
He'd defeated Barbossa, gotten back his beautiful Pearl, made friends with Will and
Elizabeth, two nobles if there ever were ones, put a curse on himself and managed to retract it
again, caught up to his own ship in a storm with a half-mad pirate crew from Tortuga, and now a
tiny girl had vanished from under his nose when he turned his back for thirty seconds.
A light tap on his shoulder.
"WHOOZAT?!" shouted Jack, probably a good deal more startled than he should have
been by the simple tap. The girl was standing above him, face blank, eyes wide. Jack paused,
then pushed himself up and crouched down at eye-level with the girl. He narrowed his eyes,
surveying her, then said finally, at length, ". . . You're good. I'll give you that." Looked her up
and down once more. "Got a name, dearie?"
The girl shook her head.
"No name."
Shook it again.
"So you DO have a name?"
Nodded.
"The why'd you shake your head at first?"
Shrugged.
"Well, now that you've revealed that you do indeed have a name. . . would you like to tell
Uncle Jacky?"
Shook her head. Jack sighed. "Of course you wouldn't." He stood up and turned away,
beginning to pace his cabin again, when a small voice, barely audible and almost supernaturally
high in pitch, uttered, "Car'lyn."
Jack froze in mid step then, in the way that only Jack would, kneeled down next to the
girl, putting his face very near to hers. "Your name is Carolyn?"
Nodded.
"Well!" exclaimed Jack jovially, standing up again and clapping his hands together.
"Pleasure to meet you, madam. I-" he paused for dramatic effect "-am Captain Jack Sparrow." He
took off his hat and bowed. The look on the little girl- Carolyn's- face remained blank, if not
somewhat horrified. Jack was, to put it mildly, surprised when he suddenly found her clinging to
his leg. "Ehm. . . dearie, would you mind much if I could have my leg back?"
Jack would never dream of harming a child. That didn't mean he was overly fond of
them, either. They were loud- well, this one wasn't, but you never could tell- messy, needy,
whiny, clinging (which this one happened to be), and Jack honestly didn't have the time to
captain a ship and play father at the same time.
Well wasn't this week going to be FUN.
*****
So! That's the first chapter, and, to Bitchy Little Pixy: I hope it's fit to your tastes! If anyone
shows any particular interest in this, I'll continue, because I've got an idea of visiting Elizabeth
and Will in this fic, as well as pairing up Jack and Anamaria in the end. Can't say what'll happen
to Carolyn just yet, though.
Review if you like, don't if you don't! Or do if you don't! Or don't if you do! Thanks much!