A/N: The lovely little poem Jack steals writes for his dear first mate is by Max Ehrmann entitled Desidata and is the tattoo that's all over Jack's back in PotC:AWE.
Things happened for a reason. That was the first concept Anamaria had thought of when she'd found out she was pregnant. Of course, as the months progressed, she was beginning to think that fate was just mean, nasty, and down right cruel.
How fair was it that Jack could be on his adventures while she watched her stomach grow larger than any sea vessel, her hormones spin out of control, her body ache from sitting and/or standing in one place at the same time, and worst of all - not being able to get near the sea without being sick.
She would kill him. No, it wasn't his fault, not really, he hadn't even known. He'd won over her affections and she, well, she had won over his seed.
It had all started with an argument about a boat. Nothing more. Nothing less.
"So help me, Jack Sparrow, I will leave this ship!"
She was furious. No, she was livid, absolutely livid beyond relief and for the countless time, Jack Sparrow was the butt end of her endless rants. However, this time, most of the crew had silently agreed with Anamaria and why she'd been so angry and ready to give him a good slap or two ... or three.
Having successfully looted a ship, Jack, much to the humor of the crew of got into a bit of a tussle with the supposed "captain" of a nameless shipping boat. Everyone that sailed the seas knew it was bad luck to captain a boat or a ship with no name and even more so ridiculous to be a captain aboard said nameless boat, trying to fight a pirate captain, while said captain of nameless fishing boat's crew had abandoned ship.
The end result had been an abandoned nameless boat, due to the captain of said nameless boat having been forced to jump into the vast ocean wearing nothing but his undergarments.
The crew laughed at "witty Jack" while Anamaria stood there eyeing the nameless boat, letting her finger absently twirl in her hair, slowly tangling it. Let the men be men, she mused thoughtfully as the boat bobbed in the water, now attached to the Pearl. When they'd decided to bring the boat along, Anamaria casually found herself helping the lower levels attach the boat to the Pearl. It paled in comparison riding alongside the Pearl but Anamaria had already developed a fondness for the thing. And really, why would she need a large ship in the first place?
Watching her, "Witty Jack" had the sneaking suspicion that his first mate had found a new boat and a new home that existed without the Pearl.
Without him.
He walked over while Gibbs cheered and Cotton's blasted bird squawked for the both of them and placed two warm hands on her shoulders. Anamaria did not flinch, did not involuntarily shiver, and did not even bother to look over her shoulder at him. "I see you've set your eyes on something, love." Anamaria did not reply, did not blink, did not even smile and so of course, Jack had to drive it further. He leaned in to whisper (this did cause shiver, though the night was warm) in her ear, "then you shall have it."
Later that evening, when the majority of the crew had settled into their drunken stupor (she never knew how they'd managed to survive as outlaws the way they constantly drank rum) and others had gone about their quiet business, Anamaria snuck from her quarters, up the stairs to the deck, and into the captain's quarters. This wasn't the first time she'd been in his quarters and it wouldn't be the last but this time, it was with a sly smile and a few peppered kisses until she'd pinned Jack in his chair and straddled him...
The great thing about spending a night with Jack Sparrow was that it would be absolutely guaranteed the effects would put you to sleep, and so, Anamaria rolled over with a little grin on her face, dreaming of the new boat she would become captain of and all the names she could think that would not only be impressive but terrifying.
The time between Jack giving her the ship and her sleeping in his bed had gone well until she'd woken with no warm body of Jack Sparrow next to her. She knew the day would go horribly wrong.
She'd barely gotten her breeches on properly when she'd realized that the Black Pearl had not been moving at all.
They'd settled on land.
And due to the Guineas placed on the Pearl, Jack and his crew had managed quite successfully to find the perfect little hiding spot on the coast of Jamaica. Anamaria was tying her hair into a very loose, very messy ponytail and she noticed something horribly, horribly wrong.
The nameless fishing boat had been gone. Just like that. When she'd questioned crew members about the nameless fishing boat, none of the seemed to have a clue or any idea as to what she had been speaking on. One of the younger crew members, Leaky, had even just flat out gone in the other direction when he'd seen Anamaria coming. That's what they did though when things got rough. Men just defended one another even if they were wrong.
Frustration easing its way through her pores, Anamaria decided to take matters into her own hands.
Climbing down from the Pearl with a steely, heavy-breathing determination, Anamaria was storming in the direction of ...well, she wasn't quite sure where she had been marching. She just knew that she was marching and she was definitely liable to destroy everything in her path, whether it be animal or child.
She would not stop until she'd found Jack.
And when she did find Jack and members of the Pearl walking back with bottles of rum, a package in brown wrapping tied with string, more rum, food, and well, more rum with stupid grins on their faces, Anamaria narrowed her eyes.
He had sold her boat.
Stolen her boat.
Yet again.
Then you shall have it.
The whispered words boomed in her head and Jack's smarmy, ignorant grin caused all sorts of chaotic, messy murders of Jack Sparrow to fill her head. "Anamaria, love, good to see you awake!"
She walked over to Jack Sparrow and looked at the package in his hand and in one great, swooping motion; she'd brought her hand up sharply across Jack's face. This slap knocked him a bit silly and he staggered back. He brought a hand to his face, gingerly rubbing the red mark that was left there.
"I hate you," Anamaria muttered through clenched teeth. "I absolutely hate you."
"Mr. Gibbs," Jack turned to Gibbs and both men nodded while Gibbs walked towards Anamaria. She backed away from him and soon as if having some magically unspoken communication, Cotton passed his bottle of rum onto Marty's hands and it took just one great step and Anamaria was being lifted over his shoulders.
"While I do love your screams, love, I must say now is not the time."
Anamaria hadn't even yelled, hadn't really been given the chance, and although she was outnumbered it was truly unfair the way they took advantage of her having different body parts from them. She would not scream, only out of savior for her own neck, and the fact that she'd just been too angry at Jack's sudden actions. But by the time they'd reached the Pearl, made her climb back into the ship, and set their course, Anamaria was letting everyone on that crew know just how angry she was.
Well, right up to the moment that Jack had pulled her, kicking and screaming, into the captain's quarters and she had fought very hard not to hit him.
And that was when she'd threatened to leave the ship.
He sat the brown package on his desk and walked around, staring at her. "You don't hate me," he said softly.
Anamaria wanted to kill him. Yes, she thought in that precise moment, she would have loved nothing more than to take the bloody sword he'd absently laid on his desk and stab it right through his ice cold heart.
"You have no idea just how much I really do." He leaned against the desk and rested on one hand. Anamaria really did scream that time. It was the scream of a frustrated woman, nearly on the brink of insanity and just quite ready to let go of the remaining pieces she had left. "You told me the boat was mine! You told me that I could have it. And then you sold it!"
Jack stood up to his full height, which was just three inches taller than Anamaria's and he slowly and very bravely walked towards her. "That was not the right boat for you."
Most captains, having been cursed to a damned eternity and been the butt end of I hate you's would be more than willing to send their first mate overboard but this was Jack and Anamaria. They had an understanding. She was the only one allowed to shout obscenities at their captain because a) he always deserved it, b) she was a woman and it was a well known fact women suffered horrendously certain days of the month, and c) which was the most important, they had an understanding.
"Who are you to decide what's the right boat for me?! You wanted rum and new garments," she motioned to the package on the desk, "and so you sold the boat I wanted!"
"First things first, love, that isn't for me - that's your package." Jack did not expect this to win over Anamaria or this argument so he continued when she only sent daggers from her eyes in the direction of his face. "And second thing's second, I made the decision as a captain of me own ship, savvy?"
"I hate you," she said it softly this time.
And for the first time, in a very long time, tears filled her eyes. While the guilt panged Jack and the truer, selfish reason he sold that boat ran through his mind, Anamaria raised her hand to slap him. This time, one of very few, Jack caught her wrist in his hand and turned her swiftly so her back was to his chest. Her backside, ever the most ample thing, pressed against him and he fought that urge he always got when Anamaria brushed her girly things against him and leaned in close so his lips were pressed to her ear, "You will respect your captain. Do I make myself clear? Now, I'm not in the habit of hitting ladies and other nonsense but if you continue to make a habit of this I will have to throw you over my knee and spank you for your punishment." And boldly, he tapped her on her bottom after taking a step back.
Anamaria jerked her wrist from his grasp and pulled away.
"You'll never touch me again, as long as the sun sets on the bloody sea, Jack Sparrow. And I will never be fool again to your tricks and games. The first damn boat I find, I'm leaving this ship and as God is my bloody witness I will never have another thing to do with you."
"Captain," he corrected her.
She was getting worked up now, preparing herself for her dramatic exit.
"SO HELP ME!" She let out a frustrated scream and stormed from his quarters, dramatically and theatrically so that Jack found himself silently applauding her.
Yes, he was wrong for selling the boat but really, he just couldn't stand to see her go. He even kind of loved her a little.
With all the arguing that had ensued from the pair, the crew had learned well enough to leave it alone. Anamaria would eventually soothe over and her icy glares would be reduced to a minimum. She would not sulk and she would not tell Gibbs to 'shut the bloody hell up' when he muttered about women and the bad luck they brought to ships.
She slowly and pathetically made her way to the quarters, a makeshift room that Jack had hastily given to her so that she may sleep separately from all the other crew and sat on the bed feeling a bit dejected. It had been six months since she'd boarded the Pearl, excepting Jack's offer as a first mate, though he obviously did not regard her as one. Anamaria could see quite plainly that Mr. Gibbs had been treated like more of a first mate than she. They had passed up so many boats and ships and he promised, even after the crash of the Interceptor that she would indeed get her very own boat, and here she was empty-handed.
Anamaria loved the sea, couldn't get enough of it, in fact, she liked to think her mother had given birth to her on a boat but being on the sea with men for many weeks, obviously turning into months, was really starting to take its toll on her. She had to damn near beg Jack, smelly old Jack, to settle so she could just have one bath every few weeks and the men were just so filthy at times.
Jack hadn't even really taken her seriously as first mate.
Anamaria sighed and fell on her bed with a soft thump, letting her feet hang over the side of the bed.
"I don't hate you," she whispered, "but you drive me absolutely nutty."
And of course, Anamaria had decided that she may as well admit she was in love with Jack Sparrow.
Of all people.
Anamaria awoke to find the same package Jack had initially stated belonging to her and a note attached, sitting mere inches away from her face. The desire to throw it across her tiny room was very high but Anamaria tore the package open and pulled out a very beautiful red dress. She snorted unladylike and sat the dress aside. If he honestly thought buying a dress in replace of getting her own boat would please her, then he hadn't really known her at all.
That seemed to hurt more than anything but she picked up the folded piece of parchment and opened it.
In his best handwriting, Jack had written her a note.
"Dearest Anamaria,
Desired Things...
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
Be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe
No less than the trees and the stars;
You have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
No doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
It is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.
Forgive me for being such a selfish bastard but I cannot stand to see you part. Forgiven?
Eagerly yours and all that's in between,
Captain Jack Sparrow"
She gazed at the parchment and folded it and slipped it into the pocket of her breeches. She closed her eyes and sat there, trying to will herself not to love this man.
But she couldn't.
