A/N: I am new to the POTC Archive, so go easy on me…I also don't really know POTC very well, so if I get characters wrong and their positions wrong or something, let me know and I'll switch it.

The Stowaway

Chapter Two – The Permanent Dishwasher

"Hey, you!" someone yelled. Claire turned around and saw Gibbs running at her. "Get away from there, boy!"

Claire took a few steps from the railing and looked at the Captain's assistant questioningly. "What's the problem, sir?"

Gibbs glared at her. "The problem is that there is a rule that clearly says that no one is allowed to go within eight inches of the edge of the ship unless they are in the bow or the stern."

"Oh." Nice going, Claire. "Beggin' your pardon sir. I didn't know any better, sir. See, I was just promoted to deck hand. I used to work in them kitchens."

"Hum." Gibbs was staring at her as if trying to place who she was. "You are ye, boy? I don't recognize ye, and I've been in them kitchens before."

"Uh, Simon Wellington, sir. I was usually the dish washer…in the separate…room."

Claire winced inside. She didn't know it there even was a separate room, let alone a dish washer person.

A smile broke out on Gibbs' wrinkled face and Claire sighed in relief. "Oh, so that was ye! Well, then, congratulations, boy! Yer probably the youngest one on deck! How old are ye?"

"Uh, fourteen sir."

"Excellent! We'll have ye on sweeping duty!"

Claire followed the old man as he hobbled across the deck towards the captain's cabin. She began to feel resentful, knowing that her mother could come out of that cabin any second and discover her. She took her mind off it by asking, "Sir? What's sweeping duty exactly?"

Gibbs smiled toothily at her. "I'd say it's the best job on the ship!"

Claire grinned and nodded her head once.

Suddenly Gibbs bent down, picked something up and turned around. In his hands were a mop and bucket. Claire gaped. "What…?"

"Sweepin' duty it is!" Gibbs hollered, laughing as he handed Claire the cleaning tools. He doubled over and started wheezing like the old monkey that he was. Claire scowled at him and then walked away.

She dipped the mop in the water and then sloshed the reeking liquid onto the deck, spreading it around. She worked very hard, hoping if she worked hard enough she'd be promoted to something less embarrassing.

A door behind her banged open. She whirled around, gasped, and then turned back, moping furiously. The tap-tap of lady pirate shoes on the deck told Claire that her mother was heading for her. She hastily moved away with the mop, all the while keeping her back to the Captain. There was no way she was getting caught now. They weren't far enough at sea yet.

"Gibbs!" her mother cried. Gibbs shuffled to his master's side. "Where's this new immigrant you reported?"

Claire froze her eyes wide. What was she going to do?

"He's right here miss." Gibbs grabbed Claire by the scruff of her neck and spun her around so she was facing her mother. She was almost as tall as her, making it even harder to avoid eye contact. "This young lad claimed to be the dishwasher in them kitchens, and he was promoted to deckhand."

Elizabeth glared at the 'boy' disdainfully. "The only one who does the promoting here is me, and I have never seen this boy in my life. I don't even think we had a dishwasher; the kitchen crew took turns washing them every night."

Claire felt as if she might cry. She really had made a huge mess of things now. Why hadn't she done more research on her mother's ship? The Silverwing was big and had many secrets to it, but surely she could have prodded information on the kitchen from her mother back at home, before they'd set sail? Now what? She was either going to be tossed overboard or discovered as the unruly and even more unladylike Claire Turner, who happened to be the Captain's disobeying daughter. She didn't know what was worse.

Instead of ruin anything further, she remained silent.

"What do you have to say to that, boy?" Gibbs barked, making Claire jump.

She shrugged, always keeping her eyes on the floor. "I…"

"Thought so," Gibbs hissed, "We've got ourselves a stowaway!"

"Please ma'am!" Claire cried, coming up with a good story quick, "Oi is from the island, and moi pop is really sick, sir. Oi was sent to go get him some 'erb to heal 'im, but the 'erb only grows on the island that yer goin' te. Thousand apologies, miss. Oi was just troiin' te help me pop." When she was finished she bowed her head and tried to work up tears.

Elizabeth was silent for a moment. "Very well. But since you're so keen on cleaning dishes, that's what you'll be going till we get to our destination. ALL KITCHENAIRS ON MAIN DECK!" she screamed in addition. Claire jumped at the sudden noise.

A door opened and several men scurried out, tripping and stumbling, covering their eyes from the sudden light. The Captain smiled slyly. "Lookie here, boys," she said, putting an arm around Claire's shoulders and shaking her quite roughly. "You've got yourselves a permanent dishwasher."

The kitchenairs looked at each-other, grinning from ear-to-ear. Some of them even let out a whoop.

Elizabeth smiled. "Now, please show young master, uh—"

"Er, Simon Wellington, ma'am."

"—Simon Wellington where the galley is and put him straight to work with this morning's dishes."

One of the kitchen workers nodded gleefully and stepped up. He grabbed Claire by the ear and began to drag her back through the door. They were followed by a crowd of happy kitchen aids. Claire groaned, half from pain in her ear and half in the labor she'd gotten herself into. She heard her mother laughing loudly as the door to her new prison swung shut.


A/N: Tell me what you think! R&R plz!