Disclaimer: As much as I'd love to own him, James Norrington and the (not yet mentioned) crew of the Pearl belong to Disney. Kaylee MacEwan belongs to me alone. Please R and R!
Kaylee MacEwan was definitely not the first thing you noticed when you stepped into the Golden Parakeet Tavern. The first thing you noticed was a general uproar of people, drunken pirates looking for a night's pleasure and carousing whores looking for a night's work. You certainly wouldn't notice the quiet young woman behind the bar at first, but if you stayed long enough, and if you were a man, you did come to notice her.
She was lovely in a quiet sort of way that most of the rest of the female population of Tortuga could never be. Her long, dark red hair hung in a simple braid over a plain dress that, while suiting her well, left much to the imagination. Her modest good looks, along with her occasionally quick Irish temper, kept her quite safe from Tortuga's boisterous male population. Kaylee could either be a sailor's dream come true or his worst nightmare, depending on how he treated her. Night after night, she minded the bar, humming softly as she wiped down the glasses and smiling to the sad, washed-up sailors as she served them their comfort, or giving over-zealous would-be suitors a good dressing-down.
One such sailor was James Norrington. He was becoming a regular at the Golden Parakeet, taking up a seat at Kaylee's bar nearly every night of the week, nursing shot after shot of cheap rum. He had begun to truly enjoy the company of this gentle woman as he drank himself into oblivion in this place so devoid of sophistication. It was refreshing to have conversations, however limited they might be, with a woman who didn't want to jump into bed with him for a few shillings.
Instead, she brought him his rum, albeit more slowly and in smaller amounts than he would have liked, and asked him about his travels. As his evenings wore on and the alcohol loosened his tongue, he poured out his whole dreadful story to her. "And so I find myself here, broke and broken, a slobbering drunk with nothing left but to lay down in some gutter with the rest of the refuse and die."
With those words, he saw a change come over quiet Kaylee MacEwan's face. Her pleasant smile faded into a scowl as she grabbed his glass from in front of him and threw the rest of his rum in his face. "You, sir, are the sorriest wretch I've ever seen. You sit here on that barstool and complain that your life is over, that you have nothing left. You, Mr. Norrington, are an able-bodied sailor, or at least you would be if you left the drink alone for more than an hour, in a prosperous seaport. If you truly wanted to change your circumstances, you'd be out looking for a ship, not sitting here whining to me."
James stared at her, dumbfounded. What had happened to the pleasant girl that served him his drinks? He watched as she fished a tub from behind the bar and slammed it down in front of him. "I'll tell you what you can do right now. You can take this tub and round up the empty glasses from all the other lousy drunks like yourself and then take them in back and wash them up. I'll not serve you another drop of rum in your life, but if you want a decent meal and someplace to sleep besides a hog wallow, I can help you with that."
He stared a few moments longer, then picked up the tub. She was right. He was sitting here feeling sorry for himself, when he ought to be doing something to procure himself a means of getting back at Jack Sparrow. Drinking himself to death certainly wasn't going to do it. He would work here, gather up some money, and try to sign on with a fairly honest ship, and figure it out from there.
Yes, I realize Kaylee is a tad bit Mary Sue. Live with it. If you enjoyed, or have suggestions, please review!