A/N: All right, so here we are again. This is my second attempt at a POTC fanfic; the first one got deleted because it was horribly written and wasn't very planned out. Anywho, moving on. This is my new story and I hope you enjoy it. It takes place a year and a half after the scene they show after the credits roll. For those of you who have seen the movie, you know precisely what I'm talking about. For those of you who don't, well, it's respectable to stay and watch the credits. : )
Oh, and I must give a shout out to my home girl KD Skywalker, who not only gave me the title of this story, but also helped shape my ideas and gave me the extra push to write this. You should read her story: The Judgment of Calypso. It's awesome!
Summary: Rosalyn Rhodes has always despised pirates and anything related to the high seas -- but when push comes to shove, Jack Sparrow's the only one left she has to rely on. She always knew there was a reason she didn't trust pirates.
Disclaimer: I don't own Pirates of the Caribbean or anything associated with it. If I did, do you honestly think I'd be spending my free time writing a fanfic and not bathing in my mounds of golden trinkets and drinking tropical fruit drinks from a coconut with a colorful bendy straw? I think not.
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Chapter One
"Come on, Lynnie," the mop-topped boy said, tugging on her hand. "What they don't know won't hurt them."
"These are your parents, Liam; of course they'll find out that we went to shore."
"But Mum said that it was all right if we went, just that you are not to lose me. I promise I won't leave your side!"
"You said that when we traveled to Singapore and what was the very first thing you did?"
The boy looked down at his feet sheepishly and muttered, "Ran off after a merchant cart. But I won't this time, I swear it!"
"You said that when we docked at Shipwreck Cove and what did you do?"
"Followed a couple of pirates."
"Precisely, which is why we're staying on board this time around." Rosalyn said, closing her eyes and willing the memory of losing him to go away.
"But this is Tortuga!"
"I said no."
"You're not fun anymore, Lynnie." Liam replied, a frown quirking at the corners of his lips as he folded his arms over his chest.
What did he mean by she wasn't fun anymore? Rosalyn brushed the remark off, hoping that her face wasn't betraying the emotion she felt. "Well, maybe if you kept your promises and didn't run off every time I took you to shore, I wouldn't be saying no this time." She countered, feeling triumphant, smirking as she felt victory within her grasp.
"Jack would've let me go." Liam said, dragging her newly found confidence back down to Earth and all but smacking her in the face with his words. Of course he had to mention the bloody pirate.
Squaring her shoulders, she murmured the words she would later regret. "Grab your coat; you'll catch a chill when the sun goes down if you don't have it."
How could she have lost him? Out of all the bloody times for the little runt to decide to meander off; the one time she'd promised Elizabeth that she wouldn't lose him…now look at her! She was running around time square like a chicken with its head cut off and she still couldn't find the little bastard. Technically, he wasn't a bastard, but that was beyond the point. The point was that she had turned her back for one second and, when she turned back around, he had vanished into thin air. Rosalyn had originally thought that he had initiated another game of hide-and-seek, like he usually did when he accompanied her to the marketplace, hiding behind one of the vegetable stands until she built up enough nerve to come after the cheeky brat. But once she had checked the surrounding carts and didn't find a single trace of him, she started to panic.
At first, she tried to convince herself that some sort of shiny trinket or another had captured his attention and he went chasing after it. That his curiosity had gotten the better of him and he didn't blatantly disobey the rules that she had set down before she had agreed to leave the safety of the ship for the pirate city. He usually listened to her; really, he did. He was such a good child when it came to listening to his elders, but whenever something caught his eye, particularly something that glinted in the light, he chased after it. It was the pirate blood that ran thick through his veins. Rosalyn was usually able to catch up with him before he tried to pick-pocket whatever it was that caught his eye, but occasionally, when they arrived back home, he'd pull out the bit of shine and dangle it in front of her eyes, a teasing smile on his face. Of course, she never told his parents; they'd kill her for sure.
She went around to the local vendors, feigning interest as she looked over their carts to make sure that he wasn't hiding behind any empty crates or in the folds of various cloths from foreign countries. Rosalyn kept telling herself that he wasn't hiding near this cart, but rather the next one, as it was far more interesting and intricate than the previous one. However, she was quickly proven wrong, and as the number of merchant carts dwindled, the bile in her stomach swirled and began to boil uncomfortably. She was dead meat; she could practically hear the sharp zing of the blade leaving Will's scabbard as he prepared to slit her throat. There was no denying it now. Maybe she should just step out in front of the next cart that came barreling down the muddy streets and let it run her over or perhaps she could allow the next grungy pirate to take her into a back alleyway, rape her, and slit her throat when she threatened to scream for help. Both of those alternatives seemed a great deal nicer than the certain death she would experience if she didn't find Liam soon. But maybe her punishment for losing their only child wouldn't be so bad; perhaps they wouldn't blame her at all for his disappearance and place the blame on the shoulders one of the many drunken pirates that occupied the port.
A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she pushed her thick hair away from her sweaty face. Her hands had also begun to perspire, and she wiped the wetness on the skirt of her dress, hoping to dry her palms, but to no avail. Licking her dry lips, Rosalyn cleared her throat and called out over the noise, "Liam!"
It was no use. There was no way that he'd be able to hear her over all this ruckus. If there wasn't a gunshot being fired or a fight spilling out from one of the taverns and into the streets, then a two-pence whore was laughing uproariously at a joke slurred in her ear by a shitfaced sailor. Rosalyn rolled her eyes in annoyance and gathered her skirts in her hands, wondering what had possessed Will and Elizabeth to come to Tortuga in the first place.
Shaking her head to herself, she stepped over a body of an obviously drunken man strewn in the middle of the road, careful not to trod over any of his limbs, although she highly doubted that he'd feel it. She could always go to Will and Elizabeth. She knew where they were and what time they'd be done conducting "business". But what would she say?
"I seemed to have misplaced your son in the busiest and most chaotic port known to man when we came ashore because I turned my back for one minute to take a gander at some imported silk. Sorry." She could only imagine how well that would go over.
"Think, Lyn, think!" she muttered to herself as she briskly walked down one of the many twisting and turning lanes. How men navigated these streets when severely intoxicated baffled her and, as much as she hated to admit it, it had to take some skill. She kept her eyes downcast, avoiding all eye contact with those around her. Perhaps if she thought like young William, then maybe she could find wherever it was that he was hiding…if he was, in fact, hiding. A lump formed in her dry throat and she struggled to push it down. Of course he was just hiding from her; he was just testing her smarts. No one would have any interest in a ten year old boy…would they?
That sort of thinking certainly wasn't going to help her out, so she pushed all negative thoughts out of her mind and searched for a place to sit down. The only open seat was on a bench next to a semi-conscious man who had a small rivulet of red wine running down the side of his face. Rosalyn's upper lip curled back in disgust and she continued walking, not entirely sure where her destination was.
Oh vey, this day just kept getting worse and worse. To top off a wonderful morning of spewing her guts over the side of the ship due to sea sickness that had chosen the very last moment to strike and breaking the silver chain to her mother's locket, she just had to lose Liam in the crowd. And in Tortuga of all places! Why, oh why couldn't she have kept her own curiosity in control and just remained on the boat like Elizabeth had advised her to?
Because curiosity killed that cat, that's why. Rosalyn thought bitterly as she took a deep breath, the scent of saltwater and alcohol filling her nostrils. The combination was certainly not amongst the most appealing scents in the world. The bile in her stomach churned and she willed the sick feeling brewing in the pit of her stomach away. Gathering her wits about her, she cupped her hands over her mouth and shouted at the top of her lungs, "Liam!"
Several heads turned in her direction, but quickly swirled back around when they saw that there was neither violence nor alcohol involved. A huff of annoyance threatened to escape her, but Rosalyn kept her growing anger in check and continued weaving in and out through the throngs of drunks in her desperate search for one little boy.
X - X - X
Honestly, this was just getting ridiculous. She had been searching for Liam for nearly an hour now, and there was still no sign of him. After she had given up calling out his name, as her throat had both gone dry and it didn't seem to be working, she had turned to the townspeople and asked if they had seen boy about this height with a mess of thick, dark brown curls. Of course, they simply stared at her before bursting out in abrupt laughter. A few of them had even asked if she'd like to 'board their vessel'; it's suffice to say that she declined each invitation, all politeness gone.
Rosalyn threw a glance over her shoulder at the horizon and saw that the sun had nearly set and twilight was upon them. She gnawed on the inside of her cheek nervously and looked about her. It was starting to get dark, which meant that it was going to become increasingly difficult to find the little rascal, especially since several vessels, both pirate and merchant alike, were docking and many dinghies were rowing to shore. If she had thought the streets had been crowded before, it was only going to get worse once those hooligans arrived.
The heat was also starting to take its toll on Rosalyn. Her heavy, light brown hair clung to her forehead as well as the nape of her neck due to the perspiration that had gathered there. She had long ago given up wiping it away, as it only came back seconds later. It didn't help that there was an outrageous number of people sauntering in and out of taverns, and her dress certainly didn't aid her in any way, shape, or form. While it wasn't heavy or even voluminous, it was long and the thin fabric of her skirt clung to her legs uncomfortably. What she would give for a pair of trousers and loose fitting blouse!
Knowing that she had to stick to the task at hand, Rosalyn ran her fingers through her hair, pushing the damp clumps away from her face and adjusted the skirt of her dress. Yes, she could do this. She would find him, even if it was the very last thing she ever did. All it took was a bit of outwitting one of the wittiest beings she had ever come across in her lifetime. Oh vey, this was a lot harder than she had thought it was going to be.
Deciding to give it one last try, Rosalyn cleared her throat and bellowed in the loudest tone she could muster, "William Jackson Turner, where the bloody hell are you?!!"
Her shout earned her several strange looks from pirates and whores alike and Rosalyn sneered at them in response. What on Earth gave them the right to look at her like she had done something incredibly stupid? She wasn't the idiot; they all were. At least she was smart enough to stay away from alcohol and didn't lift her dress to the first man who offered. Rolling her eyes, Rosalyn set off down a street she had yet to explore, unbeknownst that someone had heard her shouting and, while that certain someone might not have been Liam, they certainly did take interest.