A/N: A wee ficlet about the wonderful Captain Jack Sparrow and his
acquaintances in Tortuga.
Old Acquaintances
Captain Jack Sparrow sighed happily. The sun was shining merrily, and he was striding down a street (some might have called it an alley, but how could that be? It was so . . . charming!) Continuing with the tale, though, of course: striding down a street in Tortuga. Jack was lazily (and somewhat drunkenly, it must be noted) taking in his surroundings, and cheerfully recognizing many old mates. There was the Faithful Bride ("Ah, I remember the time . . ."), and there! Giselle ("Hello, darling! Oh! Ow . . . Now, really, did I deserve that?")! There was old One-arm Peterson (Jack turned his eyes quickly away, and turned over the owed six and twenty shillings even more quickly), and there was a young woman lying (her dress in tatters) among the rocks on the beach. Why, look, there was good old . . . wait. A young woman was lying on the beach? Jack pivoted on spot and hastened to the young, bonny (unconscious) lass's side. Casting his cloak over her melodramatically, he lifted his rum-flask to her lips.
As the lovely creature stirred, Jack thought chivalrously of her immense gratitude, of her feeling of dept, of . . .
SLAP!
"Eh? What the devil was that for? I don't even know . . ." Captain Sparrow noticed, too late, the red curls, the thin lips, the . . . he winced . . . strong hands.
"Don't even recognize me, do ye, Jack Sparrow?"
Jack drew back a little and hazarded a guess. "Scarlet?"
"Ah. Ye do know me, then. Lovely. Then ye'll be knowing never to come near me again!"
Jack allowed himself a defensive smirk. "Your last client leave you somewhat disheveled, did he?"
Scarlet took in her ragged state. "Well it's a favour ye can be sure I'll never do for ye, Jack!"
Hastily taking a step back (away from those hands) Jack bowed dramatically. "It was, as always, a pleasure, my dear. Adieu!"
Without awaiting her response, Jack strode down the charming street once again. Say, was that Coral? And over there! Why, he hadn't seen that old devil in years . . .
Scarlet, still lying on the hard rocks of the beach, pouted a little. 'Insensitive cad.' She raised her chin self-righteously. 'Never did care about a girl's feelings.'
Old Acquaintances
Captain Jack Sparrow sighed happily. The sun was shining merrily, and he was striding down a street (some might have called it an alley, but how could that be? It was so . . . charming!) Continuing with the tale, though, of course: striding down a street in Tortuga. Jack was lazily (and somewhat drunkenly, it must be noted) taking in his surroundings, and cheerfully recognizing many old mates. There was the Faithful Bride ("Ah, I remember the time . . ."), and there! Giselle ("Hello, darling! Oh! Ow . . . Now, really, did I deserve that?")! There was old One-arm Peterson (Jack turned his eyes quickly away, and turned over the owed six and twenty shillings even more quickly), and there was a young woman lying (her dress in tatters) among the rocks on the beach. Why, look, there was good old . . . wait. A young woman was lying on the beach? Jack pivoted on spot and hastened to the young, bonny (unconscious) lass's side. Casting his cloak over her melodramatically, he lifted his rum-flask to her lips.
As the lovely creature stirred, Jack thought chivalrously of her immense gratitude, of her feeling of dept, of . . .
SLAP!
"Eh? What the devil was that for? I don't even know . . ." Captain Sparrow noticed, too late, the red curls, the thin lips, the . . . he winced . . . strong hands.
"Don't even recognize me, do ye, Jack Sparrow?"
Jack drew back a little and hazarded a guess. "Scarlet?"
"Ah. Ye do know me, then. Lovely. Then ye'll be knowing never to come near me again!"
Jack allowed himself a defensive smirk. "Your last client leave you somewhat disheveled, did he?"
Scarlet took in her ragged state. "Well it's a favour ye can be sure I'll never do for ye, Jack!"
Hastily taking a step back (away from those hands) Jack bowed dramatically. "It was, as always, a pleasure, my dear. Adieu!"
Without awaiting her response, Jack strode down the charming street once again. Say, was that Coral? And over there! Why, he hadn't seen that old devil in years . . .
Scarlet, still lying on the hard rocks of the beach, pouted a little. 'Insensitive cad.' She raised her chin self-righteously. 'Never did care about a girl's feelings.'
