author's note: I know, I know that update took a long time but well, there are a few pages to read. Also, the next update won't be soon either since I'm going to the Caribbean for… research, only for research (of course I'm not going to lay lazily at a beach, no…) I'm thinking of taking my cute little baby laptop along so don't give up on me there will be another chapter (in English)
ellenar: thanks for your patience with all the mistakes I make. And yes, Marris will be part of this story
Andie Anderson + Bonny-pirate-lass: Glad you're still there and I hope you like this one.
xjammi-jessx + Dinogirl15: Welcome to my madness, I hope you stay around for a while
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Chapter 3- The adventure of everyday life
Commodore Norrington gave Jack a puzzled glance and cleared his throat.
"Ahem, you might have failed to notice but that is the common way of living nowadays so you can hardly call it an adventure. All civilized people live in houses, are married and mostly they also have a couple of children."
"Do they? Well, I never cared about common ways so I found it kinda exciting."
Norrington sighed. As he looked the pirate up and down he had to agree that Jack Sparrow apparently did not care about common ways- his eccentricity was so obvious even a blind man could notice it just by the way the beads in his hair jingled when he moved. And move he did, almost constantly. His hands were never at rest gesturing wildly sometimes and with the grace of a snake charmer the next moment.
"But you surely must have lived in a house before."
"Does staying with a whore for more than one night count as living in a house?" Jack mused aloud, smirking at the Commodore who seemed to be quite appalled. "Hey, mate, ye know I'm a pirate and since I'm a pirate I never cared 'bout houses. Who cares 'bout houses anyway when ye can live aboard a ship. See, I can travel the world and yet have all me things around. That's called freedom. Ye can't do that with a house- damned immobile, those things- unless of course ye're a gypsy and yer home is a wagon. They also tend to travel with all their stuff and…"
"Sparrow!"
"Captain. It's Captain Sparrow… though I almost liked it when ye simply called me Jack. It makes our little conversation so much more familiar, doesn't it Jamie?"
James Norrington growled inwardly. That was exactly what he would have preferred to avoid- familiarity with a pirate. But Jack Sparrow had the talent of a snake charmer when it came down to manipulating people and he had become the willing snake. He should remember his position, his duty, the noble family he descended from, instead of listening to the pirate with weird fascination. Though it was unpleasant it was nevertheless the truth. The pirate fascinated him and his curiosity had long overwhelmed his sense of duty. He wanted to know more about Jack. Of course he tried to tell himself that gathering all kinds of information about the infamous pirate captain was part of his job as an officer of the Royal Navy and that he could use these information to take the pirate into custody one day, but on the other hand he knew as well that that day was not very likely to ever come.
"So would you please be so kind and tell me about your life on- what was the name of the island again?"
"Good attempt, Jamie, honestly." Jack snorted amused. "But I'm not so daft to tell ye, a Royal Navy guy, the name of a secret pirate's hideaway- though I really like ye, mate."
The Commodore rolled his eyes. He would appreciated it if the pirate would stop calling him Jamie as it seemed inappropriate to him given their positions on different sides of the law.
"Well, what else but the name of the island ye're interested in?"
"Why don't you simply tell me about your adventurous everyday life? But please do consider that I'm a busy man so I don't have all day to listen to your stories."
"Alright then." Jack swallowed a good amount of whiskey and took a deep breath. "A few weeks after leaving the lovely Turner family in Malacca we reached the Gulf of Siam…"
Norrington called up the map of South-east Asia in his mind's eye and came to the conclusion that Siam was too far away to be in his area of responsibility so he didn't even bother about the name of that island anymore.
"It had been Rowan's idea to sail there. She said she knew a perfectly safe place where we could take care of our ships- ye know, all of that careening stuff that has to be done from time to time- and she had been right about that…"
Ko Samui, 1693
"Land ahoy!" The watch in the crow's nest shouted at the break of day.
Jack Sparrow staggered to the bow and directed his telescope on an archipelago of islands that spread before him in the crystal clear waters of the Gulf of Siam. They were of all different sizes; some were very small, only consisting of a spit of sand and some coconut trees, but the bigger ones were covered with dense rain forest.
His excitement grew as well as a certain sadness increased deep within him, no matter how hard he tried to avoid it. He could still feel Bill's longing look in his back the day the Pearl had left the harbour of Malacca, knowing that his old friend would have loved to sail away with him, but reason and responsibility for his newly found family had kept him ashore. And though Jack had pretended never to have missed Bill at all for more than ten years he definitely missed him now. Of course he hadn't uttered a single word about that fact and yet Rowan had easily figured him out; she just had to look at him with her intensive green eyes and she could read him like an open book. It was still unfathomable to him how she did it but he had every intention in finding that out during the weeks they would need to careen their ships.
At noon they reached the harbour of a large, inhabited island. Jack saw colourful fishing boats bobbing up and down on snow white beaches, houses built of wood with pointed, ornamented gables, covered with palm leaves and the chedis ofBuddhist temples. The town was small- in fact it was more like a fishing village that had grown beyond the average size of a fishing village but of course it was still much to small to be called an important seaport. Situated away from the highly frequented trading routes of spice merchants, hardly any bigger ship made berth in Nathon so the town had kept its sleepy and relaxed atmosphere. There were no offices or stores of neither the English nor the Dutch East India Company therefore no fort was overlooking the harbour and no soldiers patrolled the streets. Nathon town on the island of Ko Samui was absolutely free of European authorities- which was good- but unfortunately it also lacked the establishments that pirates were so keen on when going ashore.
The local taverns were mostly crowded with old fishermen talking about fish and drinking a brown liquid that slightly reminded one of whiskey; at least it was as strong. There were no whore houses on Ko Samui but some women with kids in tow greeted members of the Jewel's crew like long missed lovers, proving that it was definitely possible to find personal contact here. And it wasn't only possible but also desired. An elderly, matronly woman soon linked arms with Mr Gibbs and led him to her hot food stall, gibbering that such a good looking man should be much better fed. Poor Mr Gibbs couldn't resist the decisive charm of that lady and flashed a desperate glance to his captain who apparently had a lot of fun watching said scene. Of course that was only before an equally charming woman focussed her interest on him.
"Rowan!" He yelled as he tried to hide behind her. "Help me keep me virtue, luv."
"Hush, don't fear losing something ye never had." Rowan turned around to tug teasingly at the beads in his beard. "Besides, I also don't think Gibbs is in deadly danger…"
"Ah, ye're right." Jack interrupted her with a golden smile. "If I remember it correctly he was worse off before I made him my first mate- after all, he was sleeping with pigs then- so if he won't warm up with that woman mayhap she's got some pigs he can sleep with."
Rowan rolled her eyes but couldn't help chuckling. "Actually I only wanted to point out that to the people here food is just as important as drinking rum is to pirates when it comes down to celebrating, and they do want to celebrate our arrival. Savvy?"
"A party for us? Well, that's mighty nice of them, ain't it? Now that ye mention it I'm already beginning to feel a tad hungry and the smell the sizzling food is absolutely tempting- though…I think I'll better stay close to ye… just in case. Ye know, these fair ladies here never had the chance to meet the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow before …"
"Jack."
"…but I'm sure they've heard of me reputation and…"
"Jack!"
"Aye, luv, what can I do for ye?"
"Just shut up, sweetheart. Ye're much too full of yerself again."
Jack would have protested if Rowan hadn't kissed him. Sometimes that was just the easiest way to stop him from boasting and also the most pleasant one.
Rowan Scarlett was very well known on Ko Samui, this island had been one of Santiago's favourite places so she had spent a fair amount of time here. She liked the hospitality of the Siamese people and their warm-hearted, welcoming smiles. She also liked the food, which was hot and spicy. Of course, some members of the Pearl didn't agree with that as they had never enjoyed Rashid's style of cooking and still had to get accustomed to the taste of South-east Asia but to Rowan it was extremely funny to watch grown up pirates almost bursting out in tears just because of a few chillies. It was even more funny when they tried to extinguish the burning feeling in their mouths with local whiskey of all things.
"My, my that stuff really is an evil brew…" She mused aloud while watching that hilarious scene before she addressed Jack with an innocent look. "…it's even rumoured that Mekong whiskey can make ye blind and impotent."
Jack had just got used to the taste of said whiskey but now he spat it out; spouting, coughing and choking he stared at Rowan. It was a sight that almost made her crack with laughter.
"Just kidding." She sniggered while affectionately patting his back. "Couldn't resist, ye know."
"Damned, ye evil wench nearly scared the guts outta me!"
"Well, I thought you might wanna stop drinking and take a walk down the beach with me so that I can show you…"
Jack arched an ambiguous brow at her. "So ye wanna walk down that dark and apparently quite lonely beach with me? I assume ye also wanna check there was no harm done by drinking that whiskey?"
"Actually I wanna show ye the house."
Jack had already gotten to his feet and offered his hand to Rowan but it was only after they started walking towards the beach when he suddenly grasped her last words. He stopped and she almost bumped into him.
"House? What house?"
"Well, my house… or our house- given that ye wanna live with me while we're here."
He gave her a confused look but since that wasn't exactly the reaction she had expected he hurried to say. "'course I wanna live with ye, luv. That's a fantastic idea- but since when do we have a house?"
"Actually we have more than just one." Rowan sighed. "D'ye still remember Santiago's last will?"
After the events at Isla de Muerta they had found a document on the table of Jack's cabin. Apparently Santiago had written it in the certain awareness that his time in the world had come to a near end so he had bequeathed all his belongings to Rowan and Jack, and that also included the houses he owned around the globe.
Jack nibbled at his lower lip He had mourned for the Spaniard in his own way, not showing much emotions on the outside but feeling rather grief stricken inwardly. After all that had happened between him and Alf he still couldn't get accustomed to the fact that the Spaniard had actually included him in his last will since that just didn't seem right to him.
"But we're pirates so why do we need a house at all?" He asked, trying to deal with things in the typical Jack Sparrow way.
"Because we're here to careen our ships and I don't want to sleep at the beach the whole time when I can have a roof over me head and a bed to sleep in." Rowan replied impatiently but then she linked arms with Jack and gave him a brief kiss. "Come on, why don't ye have a look at it first before ye judge it. I promise, it's not that bad living in a house."
They walked on and for a while the soft splashing of waves on the beach was the only sound to be heard. The moon shone from a velvet black sky, painting the foam that curled on the surf like liquid silver. Their pace slowed down as they both got caught by the idyllic and romantic atmosphere of that scenery.
Jack began to nuzzle Rowan's hair, her neck, whispering into her ear. "Now, I can remember a time when ye didn't mind sleeping at the beach, luv."
She remembered it too. He alluded to the time when they had been stranded on an unnamed island, the time she had suddenly realized she'd fallen in love with that bloody scoundrel. And though her feelings hadn't changed her demands had increased.
"Yea but I also remember been breaded with sand and that's not much fun. So what's wrong with a nice and clean bed?"
"Absolutely nothing."
In spite of his words they sank down to the sand in a wild, passionate kiss that blurred their minds for a while but then Rowan came to her senses again. She knew that their relationship would only have a chance to survive if they could master the everyday routine of living together and she'd better find that out soon. Before she gave in to illusions that won't come true in the end. So she got up, wiping the sand from her clothes.
"Alright then, let's go to our house."
"Well it's not that bad, ain't it?" Jack said cheerfully when they reached a landing stage, where a small boat was moored. "We have our own pier, a boat… we could bring our ships here and have our own fleet in our own harbour. What d'ye say, luv?"
Instead of giving an answer Rowan elbowed him softy and pushed him towards the landside. The landing stage led to a natural garden lightened up by lanterns where a few buildings stood between coconut trees and other exotic plants. The houses were made of wood, in the traditional style of this island, with palm leaves covered roofs reaching over the front porches. Because the area was slightly hilly the houses were built on stilts; it was also a precautionary measure. The sea was close but so was the jungle and it's nasty inhabitants like snakes.
"Santiago used to live there." Rowan pointed to the largest house that was erected half the way up the hill, overlooking the bay. Then her hand wandered to the bright windows of another, much smaller building. "That's Marris' home- and apparently now also that of his lovely wife."
Though there was a sharp tone to her last words Rowan had long got used to the fact that her best friend had married a woman she had once loathed. It had been hard for her to have Anamaria sneaking around her ship ever since the day they had left the Caribbean but gradually, in time she had come to admit that Ana really wasn't that bad. In fact she was a good sailor as well as a good pirate and although they would probably never become friends they at least treated each other with polite respect now.
Finally she pointed to the house that was closest to the beach. "Well, and that's mine."
It was a nice house as far as Jack could judge but his judgement based on the simple fact that it was close to the sea. The candles lit on the porch looked inviting and so did the furniture made of bamboo. He could imagine sitting there with Rowan, drinking rum and looking at the sea, especially on such a mild and starry night like this when the full moon painted the waves in shades of deep black and sparkling silver… Damned! A year ago he wouldn't have even wasted a thought about living with a woman and now that idea sounded as promising as it was frightening. Of course he would never admit that- after all, he was Captain Jack Sparrow therefore he was, under no circumstances, frightened. He wasn't growing soft either- or worse, getting old. No, he'd just grow a tad weary of waking up alone when he could have a loving woman warming his bed so why not let himself in for that adventure? It surely would be an interesting new experience.
They had walked up the stairs to the porch but Jack felt no need to go inside the house when everything seemed to be so perfect here. There was that large couch made of bamboo, covered with thick cushions, some candles were burning… actually he only missed one thing. He wrapped Rowan in his arms and kissed her neck so that he could whisper seductively in her ear. "Now, d'ye think there's any chance ye have some rum in the galley of yer lovely house?"
"Oh, Jack, ye're so cute."
He knew that- though cute was probably not the word he had chosen to describe himself- but what he really didn't understand was why she was snickering in such an impudent way. After asking her a couple of times what was so highly amusing about his reasonable request she graciously acquiesced telling him.
"Ye know the usual landlubber simply calls it kitchen."
"What?" Jack raised his index finger and nudged her nose. "Bah, Lady Smart Ass strikes again."
She shrugged, smirking. "Aye, I can't help it. But come on now, lemme show ye the house. I'll tell ye what each room is called. First, there's the living room…"
Whatever each room was called, Jack liked the way she had furnished it because the dark, Asian style furniture would provide a pleasant cool atmosphere when the sun was up. Nevertheless no room made a cold impression because of the many chosen pieces of loot she had decorated them with. She really had a good taste- after all, she had fallen in love with him- but she also proved that in her house by combining rare, beautiful items like old carpets from Persia with ancient Buddha statues and colourful Indian fabrics. And her bathroom was like a dream from Arabian Nights that reminded him that taking a bath could be a lot of fun sometimes.
He winked an eye at her. "How 'bout a bath?"
"Great idea. Go 'n help yerself. There's a bucket, the fountain is just behind the house, and I've already shown ye the kitchen so ye know where to heat the water. I'll be on the porch having a bottle of wine meanwhile. Call me when ye're done."
Jack looked at the bucket and from there to the bath tub, quickly calculation how many times he would have to go to the fountain in order to fill that bloody thing. He came to the conclusion that taking a bath wasn't such a good idea but sitting on the porch with Rowan and having a drink definitely was. She just smiled when he joined her and poured a glass wine to him.
"Ye know, ye're the prettiest lass in the whole damned world when ye smile." He purred into her ear as he snuggled closer.
"Are ye trying to flatter me because ye wanna seduce me, pirate?"
"Aye, luv." Twirling his moustache he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Admit it, ye wanna be seduced by me."
Rowan had closed her eyes in anticipation for a kiss when she suddenly heard someone shouting a very cheerful, "Jin di khrap, Miss Scarlett!"
Startled she moved away from Jack and jumped to her feet so she could welcome the elderly Siamese couple approaching the house. At once the woman started to overwhelm her with a swift torrent of words that probably should demonstrate her affection and how much she had missed her but unfortunately Rowan hadn't mastered the Siamese language enough to understand more than a few phrases. Nevertheless she thanked her and her husband who hadn't uttered a world yet but had placed a tray with food on the table instead; it contained skilfully caved vegetables as well as a spicy seafood salad, rice, and other delicious goodies. And since both off them eyed Jack with open interest it was well about time to introduce them to each other.
"Jack, these two lovely persons are Taksin and his wife Ubol, the housekeepers and good souls of this estate. Taksin, Ubol, please welcome my very dear friend Jack Sparrow."
"Captain Jack Sparrow, at yer service." The damned scallywag had the nerve to breath a kiss on Ubol's weathered, calloused hand that made her blush like the young girl she once had been. Within a minute he had her completely taken in.
"My, what a charming man." Ubol chirped to Rowan, speaking English now. "Your fiancé? No? Oh, but you really should marry soon, Miss Scarlett."
"Ahem…" Rowan cleared her throat and quickly changed the topic because she noticed that Jack had inwardly grown tense. Now that was understandable for a pirate who loved his freedom; she felt the same. Their relationship was close enough and trying to live an everyday life would be a daring experience even without the shadow of marriage threatening their love.
Jack awoke at dawn when the crowing of a rooster unpleasantly disturbed his sleep. Sleepily he blinked an eye. It was still dark outside but a faint purple glow on the horizon gave a vague idea that a new day was dawning and the stars had faded; the sun wasn't up yet, though. The rooster, however, behaved like mad. Again he blurted out his crow, loud and so dissonant as if he was having a hiccup. Do roosters have hiccups? Jack wondered.
With a sigh he came to lay on his back and longed to be aboard his Pearl, missing the peaceful mornings at sea where no crazy poultry would bother him. There'd only be the splashing of the waves, gently caressing the hull of his ship, the silently creaking of the planks… of course there'd be a muffled curse reaching his ear occasionally, or the bellowed command given by his first mate- but under no circumstances there'd be a bloody rooster crowing at the top of its lungs.
Shadows were forming as the dim dawning light falling though the open window into the room increased, dancing across the thin gauze of the mosquito net that clouded the bed. He turned once more and involuntarily cuddled closer to Rowan's golden tanned form, circling a possessive arm around her waist. She made a content sound but didn't stir in her sleep. He buried his face in her tantalizing red hair and deeply inhaled her scent, marvelling about the fact why it didn't taste or smell like red wine when it looked as if cascades of red wine were flowing over her shoulders… his fingertips followed the course of one unruly strand that had come loose from the others and was curling around her breast. Meanwhile the rooster continued with its cacophony of irritating noises, much to Jack's distress.
"I'll keelhaul ye bloody bird." The pirate hissed repulsively as he raised his head for a moment. Then, too drowsy to take action, he dropped down again and nuzzled his way along the warm curve of Rowan's neck to her ear, whispering. "Are ye awake, luv?"
"Now I'm." She grumbled silently; stretching her limbs still stiff with sleep she opened an eye and blinked at him. Her voice was hoarse and slightly slurring. "What's up? 's there 'n attack, anythin' serious?"
"Actually, there's a rooster drivin' me mad."
"Ah…" Silence. Jack thought she'd unceremoniously fallen asleep again but then he saw her green orbs focussing his dark brown ones and she extended one hand to softly cup his face. "Sure ye can deal wi' that, aye?"
"Aye, sure. I'm just thinking whether I wanna roast 'im or boil 'im once I killed 'im. 'course that depends on how I kill 'im- I could give 'im a mercy killing by firin' just one shot or I could hack 'im to pieces-"
"No!" Suddenly Rowan sat upright and stared at him insistently while listening to the crowing outside. "No- that's Pepe! He's a prized fighting-cock. He had won more fights than any other cock so he's not gonna end up as a fricassee, savvy?"
"Hmpf." Jack sounded neither impressed nor convinced.
"I'll talk to Taksin about locking him in at night, how 'bout that?"
"Well… aye." He ran his fingers through her hair, his mind somewhere else and his eyes had taken a lewd expression as he gazed her up and down. "Well, now, since we're awake anyway and ye're exposing these sweet little breast of yers- almost shoving them into me face, I daresay- why not use the moment for a bit of cuddling?"
Rowan raised a quizzical brow at him. "Ye wanna cuddle? Without any wanton ulterior motives?"
"Nay. Never said that." Jack grinned, tracing along the curve of her breast with his fingers before he gathered her into his arms. "I just like it slow and cosy in the morning, ye know."
It was only mid-morning but the air was already hot and sticky with humidity, the sun burning from a cloudless sky. And the temperature would only go up in the weeks to come, Rowan thought, wiping the sweat from her face. The short walk along the beach from her house to the docks had make her drip with perspiration and the idea of ripping off her clothes and diving into the crystal clear, turquoise water of the sea was a very tempting one. Unfortunately they weren't here for fun. With a sigh she looked at the two dark ships, involuntarily sweating even more at the mere thought of the work that had to be done.
First, they had to unload the ships, lighten them as much of the ballast as possible, before they could haul them onto a beach nearby to scrape the hulls free of algae, barnacles- all the nasty things that could slow down a ship. The process of careening wasn't common for any pirate to do, though; instead of taking care of their vessels most pirates would rather commandeer a new one. But neither Jack Sparrow nor Rowan Scarlet were what one would call a common pirate, and the Black Pearl as well as the Jewel Star were definitely not just ordinary ships.
Rowan breathed a sigh of relief that they had sold most of the plunder they had looted in the past few months, so the hold was relatively empty. Yet, the past had already proven multitude times that the hold of a pirate's ship was never entirely empty. There was always the odd barrel of booze- wisely kept for the emergency issue of a spontaneous celebration- or some booty you couldn't or didn't want to sell for various reasons. Fallen into the dark oblivion below deck it usually came to light at last when the ship was about to be careened. Like the bales of fabric Rowan had collected throughout months or years in order to get some new clothes done, mayhap one day… when she had time and was in the right mood to go to a seamstress… She gave orders to take the fabrics ashore and hand them over to the local seamstress where she would take care of that matter later.
Below deck, the air was stuffy and filled with dust, particles dancing like fireflies in the few lost rays of sunshine that fell in from somewhere. Nevertheless it had been quite cool there compared to the stifling heat of the cabins on the upper deck. Rowan gathered a few things she might need from her cabin before she indecisively turned to the door of Santiago's; she hadn't entered it ever since the events at the Isla de Muerta, when he had sacrificed his life for the sake of Jack's- and hers. Though she knew now that he must have been weary of this world for quite a while, even before said event had transpired, she opened the door very hesitantly, suppressing a great deal of mixed emotions. She had been angry at him, almost raging with fury when she'd found out about his true nature- that of a 246 years old, cursed magician, doomed to live until the curse spoken upon him was finally lifted- and still felt betrayed by the man she had trusted so much, simply because he hadn't returned her trust; he hadn't told her Yet she grieved for him now as she had silently mourned for him those past months. After all, he had also been the man who had raised her, an orphan, like his own daughter. He had taught her to read- not only books but also the sky, the waves of the sea- how to wrap a knot, coil up ropes, mend a sail; he had taught her the skills of sword fighting and self defence, and she had absorbed all the knowledge he offered her like a dry sponge soaking up water. It had been him who had given her the chance she needed to live the most unconventional lifestyle for a woman- the life of a pirate.
Now, brushing back a whisk of hair from her face, she rummaged through the remnants of Santiago's belongings and a bag full of memories. Lost in thoughts she flinched at the sound of Jack's voice.
"Ah, here ye are!"
Rowan turned around to face him, stunned how he'd managed to creep up behind her so silently, without her noticing it.
"Thought ye might fancy a sip o' beer, luv." He said cheerfully and handed her a mug. "Well, as it seems the locals think we're absolutely daft to continue working in the hottest hours of the day, so me thinks we should simply follow their example 'n take a little break. How 'bout that?"
She took a good mouthful of the offered beer. It was refreshingly cold and the bitter taste was perfect to quench her thirst. Gratefully she blinked at Jack, only now realizing just how thirsty she had been.
"Ye're really a good man, Captain Sparrow." Rowan sighed, then drowned the contents of the mug completely and let out a very unladylike belch. "Oh, that was good."
Jack chuckled about her non-existent manners and even more about the sloppy way she looked. She had tied up the ends of her shirt beneath her breasts, her pants were rolled up to her knees, her feet bare. Actually, she revealed an unseemly amount of tanned skin but that was alright by him… Her cheeks were smeared with greyish brown patterns of grime, and her hair was an unruly mess that had withstood her half-hearted attempt to tame it with a bandana carelessly wrapped around her head; some streaks were still constantly falling into her face and the rest reminded him of a wine red Medusa- a Medusa decorated with some cobwebs.
"Ye really shouldn't use yer pretty hair as a duster." He whisked away the cobwebs and then he started to feed her with a portion of fried bananas he had brought along with the beer. They tasted sweet, so heavily dripping with honey and grease that Rowan snapped at his fingers to lick them clean after they had finished their meal.
Jack drew a sharp breath, his voice was suddenly low and hoarse with restrained desire. "My, don't ye know what that reminds me of?"
"Oh…" She blushed a little as it dawned on her what he was just alluding to and stopped sucking at his fingers to give him an innocent glance. "Ye have such a depraved mind, darling."
"Sorry. Can't help it, luv." The pirate shrugged, actually not appearing too sorry about the wantonly ideas that flashed up in his mind. "It's just like… every time I look at ye I want ye and I can't stop that."
Rowan was very well aware of the state she looked- and probably smelled- right now, so she took his statement as proof that he must be really fond of her. She circled her arms around his neck and kissed him hard. "Thanks, I appreciate yer affection."
Jack grinned; he would have loved to suit the actions to the words- but not here, not in Alf's old cabin of all places. It seemed inappropriate and just not right, and besides, he would feel watched by Alf's spirit that still seemed to linger in this room.
"Nah, I'll be a good lad." He told himself or- more precisely- the dark wooden ceiling of the cabin. Then he addressed Rowan again, pointing his head to the boxes and trunks she had packed. "What d'ye wanna do with his stuff?"
Rowan sighed heavily. Now, that Santiago was gone for good, there was no reason to keep his belongings aboard- except for sentimental reasons. But since space was much too rare and precious aboard a ship, she couldn't allow herself to give in to sentimentality.
"An ox cart's waiting to take his stuff up to the big house. I suggest we'll see to it later, once we're done with careening, aye?"
Jack uttered something unintelligible that vaguely sounded like approval, but in fact it was more a sign of his own consternation. Though he would never speak it out loud, he missed Alf; he missed the man with all possible kinds of mixed emotions, ranging from love to hate.
Though they were almost done with today's work, one task was still waiting for Rowan. She remembered the fabrics she had sent to Jaidee, the local seamstress, knowing that if she didn't go there today she probably never would. Tomorrow they had to start dragging their ships ashore and when they finally succeeded in that, they would spend the next weeks scraping the hulls free of algae, replacing rotten boards, mending torn sails, ropes- to cut it short, they had to do everything their ever so demanding ships required of them. There would hardly be any time left to care about new clothes, although she definitely needed some, and therefore she had to pay Jaidee a visit today.
-
"Oh, Miss Scarlett, it's so good to see you." Jaidee chirped enthusiastically and performed a respectful wai to welcome her customer. She moved with the natural grace characteristic to most Asian women and that always made Rowan feel awkwardly- and messy. Though she had washed her face before coming here there was no denying that she was sticky with perspiration and dust. She was also aware of her rough, calloused hands in comparison to Jaidee's long, slender and neatly manicured fingers. It didn't improve the situation that Jack had chosen to impersonate a stalking peacock and sprayed his dubious, roguish charm, flattering the seamstress who seemed to be quite impressed.
"My, what a charming man. And a real captain." She sighed with delight when she took Rowan's measurements again. "Mayhap now you fancy a pretty dress like the fine women in London and Paris are wearing?"
Rowan rolled her eyes. It was Jaidee's dream to sew a grandiose dress made of silk and lace, with many layers of skirts as it was the latest fashion in Europe. But she had to fulfil her dreams without Rowan's help.
"No way. A couple of shirts and pants will do, thanks a lot."
"I'd love to see ye in a dress, though." Jack interfered, winking a meaningful eye at her.
She just snorted.
"Maybe another one of these cute little things ye were wearing the day we met- d'ye remember? That green one."
"That's called corsage and no, I don't think I need one." Actually, she thought he only came up with that idea to see her strip and get her measurements taken while at the same time he'd be flirting with Jaidee. There were moments she really felt the urgent desire to strangle him. But instead she eyed him up and down. "Talking about things one needs- you could need some new clothes, too."
"Why? What's wrong with me old ones?" Jack asked flabbergasted.
"Well, they simply remind me of rags."
"No one's ever said that to me so I presume it must have to do with the impatient way of yours to get my out of me clothes. And though ye might be good at mending sails ye haven't yet managed to sew on a single button- wait a minute!" His eyes sparkled with mischief. "Does getting new clothes also include this lovely lass taking me measures? Well, I think I've changed me mind, then. I really do need some nice clothes."
The urge to strangle him grew stronger, especially when the bloody scallywag seemed to enjoy being measured up. He purred and prated all the time, cracking corny jokes. Then he rummaged through the fabrics with eager enthusiasm but his choices were more than doubtful.
"Jack! Ye don't need a red brocade coat!"
"But I like it." He insisted stubbornly and wrapped a few yards of said fabric around his upper body, posing in front of a large mirror. "It looks good on me, don't ye agree, luv?"
It did- but Rowan didn't tell him that of all things. "Ye can't go commandeering 'n plundering ships wearing a red brocade coat."
"Why not? I'm an infamous pirate captain, therefore I might as well wear an impressive coat. Besides, if I remember it clearly it was you who wanted me to get new clothes."
"Yea, but not- ah, go 'n wrap yerself in yer madness, that's impressive enough."
"If I may say so, sir, the colour suits you perfectly. It is a dark, not too flashy tone that matches wonderfully with your black hair and your chocolate brown eyes." Jaidee threw in what she thought to be a helpful comment.
Meanwhile Rowan's eyes had taken on the colour of a coming thunderstorm and she shot the seamstress a furious glance, which Jack found mighty amusing.
"Aye, ye pretty lass 're absolutely right. Get me a coat done- ah, and one for my lovely lady before she gets too envious, savvy."
"Damned, Jack, I don't need a red brocade coat either." Rowan snapped, feeling slightly passed over by him.
"Ah, it'll look good on ye." With a definite shrug he ignored all further objections and attended his attraction to the pile of fabrics again. "What d'ye think of that silk for a shirt or two?"
"Whatever ye like, sweetheart- but please, no ruffles."
-
Once again the blurting, dissonant crow of Pepe the rooster disturbed of what could have been a beautiful morning. No matter whether Taksin locked him in at night- and he swore he did- that devilish creature always found a way out to start his blasphemously early wake-up call at the first hint of daylight. Jack was beginning to take it personally. It seemed to him that the feathery incarnation of Satan enjoyed annoying him because he always strutted around just beneath the bedroom window while bawling out his hiccupping crow. But this time, Jack had made preparations.
He slipped out of bed and tiptoed to the window where he had hidden a bucket full of water. The pirate threw a quick glance outside, a sly smile on his face. There he was, that bloody rooster, his black-feathered foe. As suspected, the beast strayed around directly below the window, proud as a peacock, his head held high to burst out another one of his disturbing crows.
"Shut up, ye mangy son of a lousy bitch." Jack hissed. With verve he poured out the bucket before correcting his last words. "Hen. Mangy son of a lousy hen, I wanted to say."
Indignantly Pepe ruffled his wet feathers, sending off sparks of water that shimmered like rainbows in the early morning light. It would have been a beautiful sight if the insulted rooster hadn't decided to complain loudly about this rude, inappropriate treatment while looking for the one to blame. Jack could have sworn the feathery beast shot him a scornful, almost evil gaze from bloodshot eyes- well, that was quite the contrary of what he had intended. Remembering Pepe's reputation as prized fighting cock he quickly slammed shut the shutters and hurried back to bed.
That's not fair, he thought groggily. Every muscle of his body still ached due to the passed few day's hard, exhausting and boring work of hauling up the two large ships on a beach north of Nathon, and though the people of Ko Samui had helped the pirates with manpower as well as ox carts, it hadn't any been less draining. Therefore he deserved some sleep now- undisturbed sleep, to be more precisely. But it seemed to him as if his needs were completely ignored lately.
Jack turned around and cuddled up closer to Rowan, hoping that she would finally yield to his needs. After all, she had managed to reject him these last three days although he hadn't done anything wrong. And most of all he had not been flirting with the seamstress. No, he had only tried to be kind, to flatter a person he was about to bargain with. Of course it was helpful if said trading partner had long silky hair and a pretty face… But then Rowan had argued that Jaidee was one of Alf's protégées therefore haggling about the price wasn't necessary as they would of course get a special offer and apart from that, Jaidee was a widow with two small kids to care for so his methods of bargaining would have been out of question anyway. He should have known that since she had told him on the way if only he would listen to what others say and not be so full of himself… Oh yea, that was typical Rowan. Unlike other women she wouldn't slap him nor raised her voice to clarify her disgrace- no, Rowan Scarlett just needed to shoot him one of her worst thunderstorm looks which hurt more than any slap in the face. First, he had thought he could soothe her mood by simply seducing her and everything would be alright again. Alas, that trick hadn't worked. It was as if she she'd grown immune to his skilful ways of seduction.
Ah, she was such a cruel woman. Jack actually feared he'd die of sexual frustration if he couldn't have her flat on her back right now, her legs wantonly spread for him. His chances were slim though. She still slept and he wouldn't force himself upon a sleeping woman- he was Captain Jack Sparrow, he had never needed to force a woman to accept what was good for her and that was, of course, him. There were surely dozens of women in Nathon who'd be dying if they could lay their pretty little fingers on his well formed body. Unfortunately, they were not like Rowan. Damned, he loved her and couldn't change that worrisome feeling. Jack let out a deep, frustrated sigh.
He was aware of the fact that he behaved like an infatuated fool. He had even gone so far to draw a hot bath for her after they'd come home from a day of hard work, he had massaged her stiff shoulders and she had really appreciated that- then she had given him a sweet kiss, saying 'Good night, Jack' and falling sound asleep within seconds. The next evening he had tried to impress her with flowers. All women liked flowers, so Jack had scattered wild roses on the bed… He should have recognized that roses had thorns and the romantic idea of a bed of roses always meant petals but not, ever, the whole flower. To cut it short, Rowan wasn't too impressed to find herself being pricked with nasty thorns when all she wanted was to sleep. And again nothing had happened that would relieve him of the increasing pressure he felt in his groin.
Now, he nudged his nose in the soft curve of her neck and inhaled her scent deeply although he knew it would probably kill him with lust and unfulfilled longings.
"I luv ye, I want ye, and I wanna kill that bloody rooster. Please do something."
Rowan sighed sleepily and chuckled a little because she had taken notice of Jack's ongoing war with Pepe which she thought was hilarious. The infamous Captain Jack Sparrow despaired of a rooster. On the one hand she felt sorry for him and not only because of that nuisance but also for her own behaviour. She hadn't meant to so stubbornly resist him for more than a night, instead she had just wanted to show him his- or her- limits. Then the draining work had taken over the agenda and she had been too tired, let alone in the right mood for amorous escapades bothering her well deserved sleep. On the other hand she did have certain needs, too, just like Jack. But at the moment her most urgent need was to get breakfast- she'd die for a cup of tea- and then, mayhap…
This promise in mind got Jack really going. He jumped into his breeches and, eagerly to fulfil her wishes, he scampered out of the room. Still a bit drowsy, Rowan fell asleep again.
Some time later the smell of scrambled eggs and steaming tea filled her nose so she opened her eyes to see Jack placing down a tray with delicious goodies on the bed; it contained various fruits as well as the aforementioned tea and eggs. Things, he could have easily found in the kitchen or the garden and that didn't justify him looking as if he had fought hard to get them. Yet he looked exactly like that.
"What happened to ye?" Rowan asked mildly bewildered, raising a questioning eyebrow at him as she eyed him up and down from over the rim of her mug of tea. There were bloody scratches on his arms that looked like traces of claws.
"Pepe." Jack just shrugged before he gracefully acquiesced to tell her more about that incident. "I wanted to fetch some eggs for ye but apparently that damned bastard of a feathery incarnation of the devil didn't like me shooing around his hens so he chose me to become his next opponent in a fight of life or death…"
Rowan snorted and almost spilled her tea when she saw a black feather attached to his dreadlocks. "Jack! What have ye done?"
"Well, I could have wrung his neck if I had felt like, savvy? But I spared him." He stated proudly before giving her an innocent look. "D'ye like yer scrambled eggs, luv?"
The scrambled eggs were delicious but that didn't change the fact that the kitchen looked as if a cannon ball had hit it. Most cupboards doors stood open, dishes were spread everywhere, eggshells lay on the table as well as on the floor, carelessly dropped. Mixed with the eggshells were tealeaves and the sticky peels of fruit. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea asking Jack to make breakfast more often. Ubol, however, was literally tearing her hair as she caught sight of the mess and started yelling at Rowan who pretended not to understand any Siamese at all. But when Jack confessed that he was the one to blame for the old Siamese woman just pinched his cheek affectionately and called him a good boy. Allegedly a male pirate captain was allowed to make a mess while a female pirate captain wasn't, so Rowan pondered about the injustice of life and why only women were supposed to be tidy.
Days went by and turned into weeks but Jack's war with Pepe didn't cease. Almost every morning started with the rooster's hiccupping crow followed by Jack's loud curses, and the pirate had a large repertoire of curses. He also had a lot of incredible ideas how to silence a disturbing rooster. Unfortunately, none of them was really effective. The bucketful of water hadn't helped and his brand new collection of handy pebbles also failed their purpose.
One morning, Jack drew his pistol.
Rowan sat up with a start and hurried to stop him from shooting poor Pepe, but then she saw that he hadn't aimed at the rooster. The shot went off. For an instant all the birds in the trees fell silent. Then there was a crackle in one of the palm trees and a coconut came down, hitting Pepe's butt and forcing him to sit down with a confused cackle. Only a minute later the rooster fled to his stable and remained there for the next two days, utterly shocked and absolutely silent. On the third day however…
To say that Jack was frustrated was an understatement, and that the pirates had celebrated the end of careening their ships the night before didn't improve his mood either. He howled into his pillow and threatened Rowan to leave her for good if she wouldn't do something. Anything. NOW.
Ignoring his threat she just pulled the blanket over her head. She loved him but not that early in the morning after a night of celebrating. And if leaving her meant peaceful mornings without the daily quarrel between pirate and rooster… somehow that was a promising thought.
"Why don't ye just try to be nice to Pepe? For instance, ye could go 'n feed him." She mumbled sleepily.
"To whom?" Jack enquired with a fair hint of enthusiasm in his voice but Rowan had already fallen asleep again. He mused about her words then, wondering who might want to eat an old, tough rooster when suddenly a wonderful idea struck him. He placed a sound smacker on her cheek. "Ah, ye're such a wonderful, smart woman. I really luv ye."
A few days later Rowan came home and spotted Jack in the garden which was odd because usually he avoided the garden; it was Pepe's territory. There had been some incredible scenes when the rooster had made a surprise attack on Jack, chasing him around the garden. Luckily, the pirate could run faster… it had taken Rowan a great deal of self-control not to burst out with laughter and wound his pride.
Now, he sat in the garden, feeding a furry something while occasionally pointing to a group of chickens. Curiously, Rowan stepped closer.
"Jack? What ye're doing there?"
"Rowan! Darlin'! Ye're back!" Trying not to sound too surprised nor feel caught in the act he picked up the furry ball and jumped to his feet. "It's so good to see ye as I happen to have a surprise for ye. What d'ye say?"
The furry something suddenly opened bright yellow green eyes and hissed indignantly at her.
"Oh. A cat."
"No, a kitten. Isn't she cute?"
Rowan didn't know what to say because she probably had never seen an uglier cat than this poor little kitten. She was of an indefinable colour that slightly reminded one of mud, bitten by fleas- you could actually see them bounding in her shaggy fur- undernourished, and she looked so mangy that Rowan instinctively felt sorry for her. But cute? That surely wasn't the right word to describe her.
"Where do you get that from?"
"Found her in the village and thought by myself that this cute little kitty would be a nice present for ye. Come on, kitty, kitty, kitty, go to Rowan, will ye?"
No, the cat did not want to go to Rowan. Stubbornly she pinched her claws into Jack's arm and protested with a screeching meow, refusing to be handed over.
"A present? For me? Oh- um… how nice…" Should I feel flattered or embarrassed now? My lover intends to give me a bag of fleas as a present, Rowan thought though she was eventually a bit moved by the gesture itself; she really believed he only wanted to please her. "Well, what have I done to deserve that?"
"Because all women are fond of pets and ye're a woman." Jack said smugly. Probably it had never struck him that not all pets might be equally fond of women but had to learn that soon. Apparently the kitten had already started an unconditional love affair with him therefore she clung desperately at him- and even young cats had sharp claws. The look on his face was priceless as he hissed with clenched teeth. "She's still a bit shy but I swear she loves ye. Remember Lizzie and that little dog she bought in Shanghai? First, Buddy was shy, too, but then he absolutely adored her."
No wonder, after all he had become the well-fed and spoiled pet of an English family instead of ending up as dinner for a Chinese family. Nevertheless, Rowan also remembered that Jack had refused to let the Buddy set its big, clumsy paws aboard the Pearl in fear the puppy could pee on the precious planks of his precious ship. So when had he become an animal lover?
Probably he wasn't one at all; probably the kitten was just means to an end. Rowan threw a glance at the plate still standing on the ground and noticed that the cheeky pirate had been feeding the kitten with chicken meat. She frowned.
"Jack, my sweetheart, could it possibly be that ye only took the poor little kitty along because ye thought ye could train her to go hunting poultry one day and thereby mayhap accidentally kill Pepe?"
"Nah, I'd never do that!" Jack replied in a tone of utter conviction but she could see sparks of mischief flashing up in his eyes that proved her right. "Honestly, luv, I just wanted to give ye a little present."
"I really do appreciate yer most honourable ambitions. By the way, cats are quite clever beasts who won't pick a prized fighting cock for dinner."
"Won't they?" Now he frowned and for a second the self-contented smile left his face only to be replaced by an even broader one. "Well then, that's good to know, ain't it?"
Jack finally managed to catch the cat unawares, grabbed her by the neck and shoved her into Rowan's arms, scratching his chest.
"Yer cat has fleas." He said matter-of-factly before he headed to the house, already pondering about others ways to get rid off the infernal Pepe.
The kitten, however, had her own mind. Terrified she fled Rowan's arms to run after her adored Jack and rubbed against his legs. Then she looked at the closed door of the house and urged him with a begging meow to let her enter. He did- even the most infamous pirate captain had his soft moment sometimes- and so Rummy the cat entered their life.
Of course, the name was Jack's idea. The muddy colour of the cat's fur had reminded him of rum as a lot of things reminded him of rum; therefore he had insisted on calling the kitten Rummy. But all other things concerning the cat he had gracefully left over to Rowan- like getting rid off the fleas, smoothing her dishevelled fur, feeding her- after all, it was her cat; he had given it to her. Nevertheless it was him who collected the awards of her efforts. Though Rummy definitely appreciated being cared for she cold-shouldered Rowan when it came down to showing affection, instead she overwhelmed Jack with unconditional love. He accepted it with gratification because it just proved that all female beings were naturally fond of Captain Jack Sparrow.
Now, Jack had to deal not only with a mad rooster but also with a possessive cat. Now, he would wake up even before Pepe could startle him with his outlandish crow because Rummy just loved to suffocate him with affection and she'd chosen to do so especially in the very early hours of the mornings. She would curl up in the hollow of his shoulders, idly toying with the exciting beads in his dreadlocks, purring contently. But that wasn't really a nuisance compared to the ongoing battle between rooster and pirate. One day, however, he had a splendid idea.
First, Rowan didn't notice the change. She slept undisturbed for some mornings in a row before she began to wonder about that. What had happened? Why the sudden silence in the morning? No crowing, no cursing- was Pepe still alive? Though she didn't think her lover being able of cold-blooded murder she suddenly remembered his recent interest on how Mr Cotton had lost his tongue. Startled she shook his shoulder to wake him, much to Rummy's disapproval. The cat hissed jealously and spread her claws.
"Blast, ye little beast. Remember who feeds ye, aye?" Rowan growled and shook Jack again. "Jack? Jack! Tell me ye haven't cut off Pepe's tongue, have ye?"
He opened one eye, blinked at her and closed it again. Then he slurred. "Nah… thought 'bout it though. But the 'ellish creature'd only get 'imself a couple o' parrots to do 'is bloody crowin'."
Rowan tried to imagine a flock of multi-coloured parrots imitating Pepe's hiccupping crow and had to chuckle at that thought. Alas, she still didn't know what was wrong with the rooster. He was obviously alive and apparently well though there was something slightly disorientated about the way he strutted around, watching over his harem of hens. Later that day she found out the reason why.
She sat on the porch, pretending to read a book, when from the corner of her eye she saw Jack sneaking through the backdoor and into the garden, heading for the coop. Rowan sensed he was ready for mischief so she followed him unobtrusively. She was surprised by a very unexpected sight- Jack was feeding Pepe the rooster.
Well, that was exactly what she had encouraged him to do some while ago, to be nice to Pepe for once instead of constantly threatening to kill him. Nevertheless- there was something wrong with that scene. Jack's luring for instance.
"Chick, chick, chick, come on ye mangy bastard of an infernal hen, it's eat or die now. Come and see what good ol' Jack's got for ye. Chick, chick… ah, now that's a goodie, ain't it? Yea, go on 'n swallow it, ye disgusting nuisance…"
First, Rowan thought that Jack tried to poison the rooster but when she stepped closer she noticed a faint familiar smell radiating from the bowl of chicken food he held in his hands. She sniffed again.
"Is my nose mistaken or does that special poultry food of yours really smell rum soaked?"
Jack winced at the sound of her voice but then he turned around and innocently kissed the tip of her nose. "Rowan, my darling! Well, ye've got a very pretty nose, ye know, but I'm sure ye're wrong…"
"I'm not." She tipped an irritably index finger at his chest. "Don't make a fool of me. Ye're trying to get Pepe drunk."
"Ah, just think about it. Would I get a rooster drunk?"
"Aye, ye would."
"Hmpf." Jack scratched his head, musing about that. Then an idea struck him. He grinned broadly and opened his arms in a wide, exaggerated gesture that made him look every inch the rascal he was. "Hey, what's wrong with that anyway? Every decent living being in this world naturally loves rum, so I'm only doing him a favour, savvy? Besides, Taksin doesn't mind as long as dear ol' Pepe has sobered up by next Sunday, for the fight."
"Well, if Taksin says so…" Rowan shrugged tolerantly and decided not to bother with drunken roosters anymore as long as the mornings would remain peacefully silent and undisturbed by either crowing or cursing.
-
One morning, Jack and Rowan woke up and the world had turned to grey; deep clouds hovered like fog patches between the palm trees, pouring out waterfalls of rain. Actually that could have the perfect day to spend in bed, making love, if Rummy hadn't decided to join in the funny game the pirate couple was playing, caressing them with sharp claws. These were the moments Jack could do very well without her affection. He had certain needs that longed to be satisfied and the cat simply was a killer of any romantic atmosphere, so he wasn't very tolerant with her. Unceremoniously he grabbed her by the scruff of her neck and chucked her out of the room, ignoring her protesting meow.
The rainy season had started therefore the weather didn't improve in the next days; it only got worse. The rain didn't cease but continued pouring as if someone had opened the floodgates of heaven, and soon the garden looked like a puddle of mud crisscrossed with streams of reddish brown water flowing down from the hills. As if that wasn't enough, a tropical storm blew in. It raged for days, howling like infuriated banshees. Anyone with a roof over his head stayed inside to avoid the danger of accidentally being killed by flying coconuts.
For a day or two Jack and Rowan didn't mind; they had themselves so everything seemed to be perfect. But the cosy atmosphere wore off rapidly as time went by since both of them were not used to staying inside a house for a long time. Now, the proximity seemed to suffocate them. They were bored and bored pirates tended to behave like caged tigers sometimes. Impatiently they paced up and down the living room, occasionally stopping to look out of the window, at the sea. The sea, however, was hardly visible these days, it had melted with the pouring rain to a vague idea on the horizon, and though they longed to be out there, they didn't really wish to be. After all, they knew what it was like to steer a ship through a storm like that, being soaked to the skin, hoarse of bellowing commands against the howling wind and simply exhausted from struggling the forces of nature. It was a good feeling- but being warm and dry wasn't bad either.
Jack handled the situation with more nonchalance than Rowan who had a real big problem and that was called Ubol. Actually, the problem wasn't Ubol herself but rather her absence. Since it was kind of dangerous to go outside while the storm was still raging, the moving spirit of this household had apparently decided to stay at her own home and not to come over in order to cook for the two pirates nor to clean up the mess they made. So Rowan suddenly found herself in the unexpected role of a housewife which didn't suit her at all. If she had wanted to become a devoted housewife she wouldn't have needed to prove herself in a world dominated by men. Nevertheless she reluctantly tried to adopt that new role because she thought she owed it to Jack. Everything should be as perfect as if Ubol was still around- needless to say that that she failed. She had set her sights too high. Rowan Scarlett would never become a good cook, let alone a good housewife. She couldn't even manage to cook rice that wasn't either burned or mushy, which was really frustrating. And her frustration grew with every day until she began to vent it on Jack who really didn't understand what was going on now. After all, he hadn't done anything wrong. He wasn't to blame for this bloody storm and he had never even complained about the food- actually he had eaten much worse. It was just her own desire for perfection that made her so bitchy.
Finally the long bottled up tension exploded when Jack dared to utter he was hungry. Rowan was instantly seeing red, thinking he expected her to scurry into the kitchen to obsequiously fulfil his wishes and cook some food for him. She shot him an infuriated glance.
"So what? If ye're hungry go to town but don't bother me. Ye expect me to care for ye, cook for ye, feed yer cat and clean up the mess ye leave behind without ever thinking about lifting one of yer precious little fingers to help me. Instead ye take it for granted that I serve ye, and probably ye also expect me to perform the perfect and always wanton lover to keep yer bed warm…"
"Well, the last point I'd really appreciate…" Jack ducked just in time before a thrown plate could decapitate him; it dashed to pieces at the wall behind him. "Blast! What's wrong with ye, luv? Don't ye like yer service anymore? I'll get ye a new one- the finest china from the next East India Company's ship I plunder…"
"Damned, d'ye really have the nerve to ask me what's wrong with me? Just think about it for a second, Mister Too-full-of-himself! I don't give a damn about fine china and even if I did, I'm perfectly able to plunder a ship on my own. I'm not yer nice little housewife, savvy? I'm every bit as much a pirate captain as you are, therefore I'm not gonna serve ye any longer."
Jack opened his mouth to say that it had never been his intention being served by her and that he couldn't understand the whole fuss anyway- but then he thought about it again. Whatever he was going to say now would likely been misunderstood by her so he decided to shut up. There was no need to complicate things. Women were complicated. Love was complicated- well, maybe not love itself but living with the woman he loved, and since he had no experience in that he would rather flee the strained atmosphere. He took his old, worn coat, crammed on his old hat over his eyes and left the house. Perhaps they both needed a timeout.
Though they had been living together for a couple of month now, Jack and Rowan hadn't clung together constantly. They had taken care of careening their ships which had been hard work, but they had as well kept social contact with their crew members, meeting them for a beer or two at the local tavern occasionally. Neither of them had had to give up their own freedom or independence, and that had worked perfectly until the storm had forced them to stay inside. Therefore Jack was quite eager now to meet some of his mates and to get drunk with them on cheap Mekong whiskey. Then he saw that little boat bopping up and down at the pier belonging to the estate and changed his mind after a long, yearning look at the sea. He didn't miss his mates as much as he'd missed being out on the sea.
Rowan heard the door slam shut and threw another plate, cursing the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow. Soon after that she began to feel miserable for being so harsh and unjust to him, for letting off steam on him because of her own discontent. Frustrated she sat down on the sofa and wrapped her arms around her knees, feeling abandoned. Then Rummy rubbed her head against her legs. The cat purred so encouraging that Rowan picked her up to cuddle her and Rummy gracefully allowed her to do so for a while. But the cat's affection didn't last long. After a few minutes she meowed impatiently and struggled free to head for the kitchen, expecting to get fed. She was such a manipulative little beast, only granting her affection to Rowan when she was hungry while the rest of the time she preferred to overwhelm Jack with her unconditional, purring love although he never fed her. It was a strange world. It also wasn't feeding time yet so Rummy gave up and began to pace edgily up and down at the door, begging to get out. Rowan opened the door for her. The cat scurried across the porch but when her sweet little paws touched the first mud puddle on her way to the garden she hurried back inside, indignantly raising her hackles and meowing accusingly at Rowan as if she was the one to blame for the lousy weather conditions of the past days. Incredibly bored she then spread the mud on her paws in the whole house by chasing her own shadow.
If Ubol doesn't show up tomorrow she's dismissed, Rowan thought enervated since she definitely did not intend to clean the house when there was a house keeper who should take care of such things. After all- and she imaginary underlined that three times- she was not a housewife and she would never become one.
Later that day Jack finally came back home, humming cheerfully. Proudly he shoved a big fish into Rowan's arms.
"Oh, ye brought me a fish… how nice."
"Yep. Our dinner. I thought about stuffing it with spices…" Jack opened the fish's mouth and stared intensely inside, wondering how the hell to stuff the fish with spices. Rowan started to laugh and that sounded good, especially since he hadn't heard that the last few days.
"My, it won't work that way! Ye know, ye've gotta gut it first." She showed him what she meant by slitting open the fish and taking out its insides which she fed to greedy Rummy who really appreciated such a splendid feast. Then she glanced at Jack. "Hey, I'm sorry for…"
He didn't hear her out but gathered her in his arms, holding her tight.
"Jack, ye're as wet and cold as the fish is. Luckily not as slippery though." She complained, yet she didn't move away from him.
"Aye, it's raining again. And, ye know, I thought a lot about what ye said when I was out there on my own, at sea, fishing, while the rain was pouring down on me..."
"Ye're fishing for sympathy now?"
"No, no, no- don't get me wrong, luv. Listen, I was gonna say that I like ye very much and… well, it's nice living with ye despite or just because of yer hellcat's temper. Ye make me laugh and that's much better than being a good housewife. If I want a housewife I sign one, savvy?"
Rowan sighed amused. "Captain Jack Sparrow are ye possibly trying to tell me ye love me?"
"Well, ye could say so, aye. After all, I brought ye a very big fish."
"Speaking of fish- ye still feel cold and wet." She let go of him and stepped back, looking with a frown at the puddle that had formed around his feet. "Ye really should take off yer wet clothes."
"Ye want me to undress? I knew there's a reason to love ye." He grinned ambiguously. "By the way, ye also said something about being wantonly…"
"Bloody lecher." Chuckling she elbowed him. "Actually I only wanted to suggest ye take a hot bath before ye prepare our dinner."
"Now that sounds promising. I love taking a bath- any chance ye join me? Ye could go diving for treasures in the deep abyss of the tub."
"Jack! You are absolutely incorrigible. Sometimes I really do wonder if that's all ye see in me."
"'course not, darlin'. Ye're…" He paused, pretending to rack his brains for something nice to say about her. "Oh yeah, now I got it. Ye have the most remarkably hair I've ever seen- did I ever mention I love yer hair?"
"Ye don't have to mention that 'cause I've already noticed, eventually ye keep nuzzling it all the time ever since ye're back."
"Right. Well, what else? Ah, ye're a good pirate- pardon, pirate captain. Ye can handle yer sword decently and yer footwork is very unique. No need to prove it on me though. Ye can hold yer rum even if ye prefer red wine- which reminds me of yer hair again- but when ye get drunk ye're incredibly funny. Ye make me laugh. Ye're my Lady Smart Ass and," he simply couldn't resist, "ye're probably the best screw I ever had."
"Oh Jack, ye really know how to flatter a woman."
Despite her ironic intonation he opened his arms in a gesture of invitation. "Luv, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, savvy?"
Rowan laughed out loud.
Santiago had been a wise man with a profound knack for making life more comfortable. He had had a great knowledge of things that had been as well as of those that would be, and with these skills he had constructed a system of pipes leading from the fountain behind the house to the kitchen where you could drain fresh water whenever you needed it. But- given that the oven was heated- you could also draw hot water for a bath without arduously having to carry it in bucketfuls from the fountain. And though it had been great fun to see Jack slave away with that task once, Rowan nevertheless preferred to rely on Santiago's system when she wanted to take a bath. Well, it hadn't been on her agenda for today but on the other hand she couldn't deny the fun it was taking a bath with Jack. Cleanliness, however, was not so much his concern. She opened a bottle of wine and lit the candles.
Later the bathroom was flooded as usual but Jack made a very content face. Unfortunately that only lasted until he suddenly saw from the corner of his eyes a silvery reflection which reminded him of fish. He sat up with a start and sent a wave of water splashing over the edges of the tub.
"Bloody hell! I think our dinner's just running away."
While he scurried out of the bathroom, dripping wet like he was, Rowan wondered how a dead and already gutted fish could run away. Then she remembered that they had left the fish on the kitchen table, and Rummy… well, the greedy cat had already experienced the taste of it. She might have decided that such a pretty big fish would be the perfect dinner for her.
"Oh no…"
"Let go of it, ye ungrateful, mangy, little beast. That's my dinner!" She heard Jack cursing, which proved her right. Then he yelled. "Rowan! Come here 'n tell yer lousy cat to stop misbehaving."
She wrapped herself in a towel and followed the wet footprints on the wooden floor. I'm not gonna clean up this mess and Ubol is dismissed if she won't come over soon. What am I paying her for?, she thought but then she got rewarded with a priceless sight. The infamous Captain Jack Sparrow naked on the floor of the living room, desperately clinging to the fish's tail while Rummy was equally desperately defending her booty, screeching at him. That scene was only topped by a knock at the door and Marris entered without waiting for a reply.
"'ello, mates, I…" He broke off when he saw Jack naked-arsed struggling with the cat about an already half-eaten fish. Shaking his head he addressed Rowan. "It seems to me ye're in need of dinner. Now, isn't it great that my lovely wife tends to cook more than we can eat so I wanted to ask ye to join us anyway. I do suggest ye get dressed first though."
Accepting the invitation gratefully, Rowan chucked out her mate out and closed the door again, before she teasingly pinched Jack's butt.
"Ye can let go of it now, sweetheart. We managed to get an invitation for dinner. By the way, did I ever mention that ye've got a nice, sexy arse?"
He turned around with a wolfish, golden smile, presenting himself in all his glory. "Well, I really appreciate that, luv. What else d'ye like about me?"
Rowan decided not to answer to that since he was too full of himself anyway. Meanwhile the cat fled with her loot to the deepest corner of the living room.
Marris used to have a simple, functionally furnished hut but Anamaria had turned it into a cosy home for the newly wed couple. Now, her female influence was evident everywhere. There were pillows on the chairs, a vase with fresh flowers stood on the table, and the many candles shed a warm, comfortable light. The whole house radiated an atmosphere of familiarity. It also smelled deliciously of freshly prepared food.
First, Rowan was a bit surprised. She hadn't expected any housewifely ambitions in Anamaria but apparently she had been wrong. Her best foe came out of the kitchen with a smile on her face, placing another sizzling plate on the table. Then she wiped her hands on her apron and welcomed her guest.
"Can't decide what I like to eat so I keep myself busy with cooking all that comes to my mind." She explained while gently stroking over her swollen belly.
"Anamaria!" Jack blurted out cheerfully but then looked her up and down and frowned. "Could it be, mayhap, that ye've grown quite fat recently, luv?"
She slapped him really hard and sending the beads in his hair jingling. "Damned, I'm pregnant, you daft idiot. We're expecting our first child."
"Ouch." While still holding his maltreated cheek, Jack shot a glance at Marris. "I just wonder how ye survive being married to a wench like her."
"Ah, that's quite easy." Marris wrapped his arms around his wife, thus stopping her from slapping Jack again because of his remark. Affectionately he kissed her neck. "I just love and respect my lovely wife."
They had an excellent dinner. Anamaria wasn't only a good sailor but also a good cook, and furthermore she would probably be a good mother too. She fit in all the different things that Rowan didn't which left a stale taste of failure in her mouth, and she tried to drown that with lots of wine. Nevertheless it was frustrating.
She vent off her frustration when Jack walked her home later that night. He, however, was in a jolly good mood, humming his favourite tune.
"It's not fair, ain't it? She's too perfect- Ana, I mean. She's a damned good sailor; I 'ave to admit that. She's pretty. She charmed me first mate 'n even married 'im- alright. But now she's gone too far by also bein' a perfect li'le housewife. Won't complain about her cookin' though… ah, 'n I swear she's gonna be a wonderful mother too."
"Well, that might be." Jack stopped to gather Rowan in his arms and kissed the tip of her nose. "Ah, but ye're so much more fun- if ye know what I mean. And ye're definitely cute when ye're drunk."
Rowan replied something unintelligible that vaguely reminded him of I'm not drunk. Jack just grinned.
-
Days of living together turned into weeks, and even the most annoying rainy season ended one day. Rowan sat on the porch when Jack came home from wherever- she had never bothered to ask him where he went when he didn't spend his time with her; she simply granted him the same freedom she required for herself. Today, though, he looked kinda frustrated compared to his usual, carefree mood.
"Hey, what's up?"
He sighed heavy-heartedly. "He's dead."
"Who?"
"The infernal rooster."
Rowan jumped up. "What have ye done, scoundrel?"
"I?" Jack shot her an innocent look. "Ye can't possibly think I would kill a prized fighting cock."
No, ye've only tried that in many different ways and as one result we now have a possessive, greedy cat, she thought cynically while waiting for an explanation he was likely going to give.
"The malicious beast dared to get killed in a fight."
"Well, um, now that's tragic but at long last ye should be glad about it…"
"But I lost ten shillings! I s'ppose he only got himself killed to annoy me."
"What? Ye bet on a fighting cock ye wished to be dead? How weird is that?"
"After all, he was good." Jack confessed with a shrug.
Rowan rolled her eyes. "Maybe there was a tad too much rum in that special poultry food of yers?"
He propped his hands on his hips and gazed indignantly at her. "Bloody nonsense. There can never be too much rum- speaking of that, I could need a good mouthful."
Though Rowan took note of his statement she didn't move. Jack let out a frustrated moan and went inside to fetch himself a bottle of rum but when he returned he was in a more cheerful mood again.
"I just came up with a great idea." He said proudly. "The Pearl could use a splash of spray at her bow so why not go and have a little raid in the Strait of Malacca, pestering, pillaging and plundering a couple of East India Company's ships? We could also pay the lovely Turner family a visit or stop in Singapore for a bit of debauchery. What d'ye say, luv?"
Rowan wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. "Ye really know how to win a woman's heart. That sounds like a lot of fun."
"I'm not sure I want to hear about your mischievous crimes in the Strait of Malacca." Commodore Norrington interjected, pulling a disgusted face. Though he enjoyed Jack's knack for telling a good story he was appalled when reminded of the man's doubtful profession.
"And I'm not giving away details of what's going on in the bedroom, if that's what ye prefer to…"
"Sparrow!"
"Captain Sparrow."
Norrington rolled his eyes. "You have no decency at all."
"Pirate!" Jack smirked. "Decency is highly overrated, if ye ask me, Jamie. And it appears to me that too much decency is the reason ye haven't found yerself a bonnie-lass yet."
"Please don't worry about me, I'm fine." James was not- under any circumstances- going to discuss his sexual life with a pirate of all people, let alone that such a topic was inappropriate anyway.
Jack remained silent for a while, lost in thoughts. He wished he could do more to find Rowan than to chat with the Commodore and wait until it was dark; at dark the shady rabble would come out of their hiding places to enter the local taverns. Those people had a great knowledge of things that pass beyond the eyes of authorities so they might also know where to find the former Maharaja of Madras- and Rowan. He stared at his hand, at the fine dark lines of a tattoo on his ring finger. Damned, he missed her. Thinking about her almost caused physical pain and his stomach clenched with fear for her. He tried to drown that feeling with a huge swallow of whiskey, not wanting to reveal his emotions to Norrington. But the Navy officer was an attentive observer.
"What's that?" James asked when spotting the tattoo and he stepped closer to have a better look at it.
"Oh, that's sort of a wedding ring for people with an aversion to marriage but a strong sense of the feelings they share, savvy?"