A/N: I'm back!! Sorry I stopped writing for a while, but I've got finals this week, meaning loads of stuff to make me want to procrastinate, and therefore write!! 'Cause that's when all my writing gets done, y' know... when I'm procrastinating so I don't have to do my work or study for tests. Woohoo!
So here it is. Chapter four. I'm not happy with it, but hey, I never seem to be happy with 'em, so I'm just giving up and saying aww screw it... it's good enough. XD So here's chapter four, officially declared DONE by its extremely unsatisfied author.
Carla seems like she's got no personality, I know, but it's inevitable. She's never really been given a chance to live much of a life, and as a shy and withdrawn sort of girl, she's got nothing to do but find something to keep her occupied. At the moment, that something is the small amount of work she's got cut out for her as a crewmember aboard a pirate ship. And no, she's not in love with Jack. She doesn't even LIKE Jack. She's just FOND of Jack, as I'm sure just about anyone would be, and she's also a WOMAN WITH EYES, so who can blame her for having lusty feelings and erotic dreams even though she seriously dislikes the guy... hmmm?? Can you blame any woman for that??? No, I didn't think so. As for Carla's bland personality... she's just a bland girl in general. She's very plain, quiet, and compliant, but she's also annoyingly inquisitive, and creative, with a very active imagination.
Thanks for all the reviews, my darlings!! It makes me actually want to keep writing this story, which is so weird to me!!! Thank you SO MUCH!! You're beautiful people, you are.
Her first night with the crew was not particularly pleasant. Mr. Gibbs had warned the other five that they were to "play as nice as could be expected, or the rest of 'em would be eatin' 'is 'ead on a plate as their next meal. Cap'n's orders. Says 'e won't stand for any rape aboard 'is ship." Carlotta wasn't entirely sure whether or not Gibbs was joking, but decided he wasn't when he then turned to her with a grave expression. "Now, although I've repeatedly reminded Jack 'tis rotten luck to keep a woman on board, no one'll lay a hand on ye, miss," he assured her kindly, "for I've been told to make sure o' tha'." He'd been told? By Jack? She didn't know whether to be glad he wanted to protect her, or to be offended that he thought she couldn't take care of herself. Then again, she reconsidered, looking around at the five new crew members, she probably wouldn't stand much of a chance if any one of them tried to force himself upon her. She blinked away the images of their bulky figures crawling over hers, grinning their crooked teeth in her face as they pressed themselves against her and she screamed for mercy, but none was shown.
She gulped, wishing she didn't have such a vividly active imagination.
Though the entire crew was passed out from an overload of rum, save for whomever's shift it was to man the decks and steer at the helm, she felt exceedingly uncomfortable in the forecastle with the slumped, snoring male bodies. She pressed herself against the wall closest to the door, so she'd be able to run if the need were to arise. True, there was a spare hammock she could have lain in, but she feared too much for her security to trust the men not to take advantage of her lying in a hammock. Sitting upright against a wall, she at least felt slightly safer.
Her clothes were itching. When she'd been alone in the captain's cabin, she had been able to change into her old bodice to sleep, but here, she would have been too embarrassed. That left her to the sailor's outfit she currently donned, which was thick and uncomfortable. Even though it was stiflingly hot, she'd been too nervous to sit here with six strange men in nothing but her thin shirt, doublet, and breeches, so she'd replaced the waistcoat.
The place was certainly clean enough, for the merchants who'd previously operated this ship had clearly been a bunch of tidy fellows. But even still, the stench of rum lingered in the air from the heaving breaths of the sleeping crew, and she, herself, felt far more unhygienic than she was at home. True enough, bathing had been a rare indulgence, but she had always been able to clean her teeth back home. This was her home now, though, she supposed, and she was probably going to have to wait an excruciatingly long time before she could ever clean herself again.
Her eyelids had still not flickered closed by the time the sun was rising. Accepting defeat, she stumbled blearily onto the forecastle deck, and then hobbled across the main deck towards the back of the ship where she could be alone, and maybe watch the sun come up. She was certainly much freer this way than she ever was back in Santiago, trapped inside the house or out on the fields, and never free to roam where she pleased. She smiled happily out at the horizon, shaking off the waistcoat once more. It really was too hot for that, and now she was away from the dangerous presence of strange men, she felt safe to remove it. She took off her doublet, as well, so she wore only the washed out linen shirt with her breeches and belt. She felt quite exposed, but it was dark, and no one was watching her, now. The dawn's breeze felt fabulous on the bare skin of her chest that was uncovered at the loose neck of her shirt. She shuddered at its cool touch. It was a strangely intimate caress, though it was only air. It was as if nature was its own person, embracing her in its inviting arms.
"Awake early, darlin'?" came a familiar and irritating voice from behind her.
She sighed heavily, looking down at her hands. "I didn't sleep," she admitted reluctantly. She wasn't keen on sharing much with him again, after what he'd tried to do last evening.
"At all, love?" he inquired, drumming his knuckles on the railing beside her, squinting into the oncoming sunrise. The golden glow lit up his gruff face, delicately painting his sharp features as though with sfumato—he appeared slightly blurry and soft around the edges, but then, that might have been because she was too tired to see properly.
She shook her head. "No, not at all."
"Now, why would you go depriving yourself of a good night's sleep, after you were so quick to reprimand me for the very same?" he asked her with a laugh in his tone. "That's hypocrisy, my dear."
Carlotta ignored him. "I hope you got some sleep this time, Captain," she said, returning to the old formalities.
"I did," he told her with a gracious nod. "I'm up now to go rouse the rest o' the crew. I know it's early, but 'tis better to get a good start in the mornin'."
"Is that so?" she questioned, narrowing her eyes at him.
"It is, love," he said. "When it was jus' you an' me, I let ye sleep out, but I'm not quite as generous with the rest o' me crew, y'know. They're hardly as delicate as you." He reached out his rough hand to touch her cheek, but she pulled away. He was smirking.
"That was gentlemanly of you," she admitting, disregarding his greedy movement.
He snorted resentfully. "I'm like that quite often," he grumbled, "yet women are always so surprised by it."
She smiled wryly. "Is that really any shock?" she asked him scathingly, glaring at him in a way that told him she had not forgotten his advancements from the night before. Jack gritted his teeth as though she'd smacked him for the second time. "I mean, do you try to seduce absolutely every single woman that ever crosses your path? Is that just some sort of bad habit on your part?"
Jack grinned awkwardly, tapping his pistol with a ringed finger. "'Fraid so, Carla m' dear," he admitted, swaying flamboyantly. "But she doesn't have to be single for me to go at it. I can't help it. 'S like an unstoppable reflex in response to the enchanting female presence." His eyes flitted to her chest, but when she noticed this and crossed her arms to cover herself up, he sniggered.
"And you never considered trusting one woman just enough to settle down, and stop being such a…?"
"Such a what, exactly? Such a pirate? I is a pirate, lass," he reminded her warningly in a low, growling tone that sent chills down her spine. "Pirates don't 'settle.' We're always venturin' for another conquest of some sort." He grinned toothily at her, and she wondered vaguely when he had last cleaned his teeth. "Besides," he added, "the last woman I trusted for even a second ended up bein' the only one ever to succeed in killin' me."
Carlotta gasped, her eyes growing wide. "She… what?"
"Aye, love. With our one and only kiss she sent me straight to Davy Jones' Locker. Brought me back, alright, bu' that don't mean I can't still be bitter about me own death, whether or not I was revived."
"So you… loved her?" she asked breathlessly. What a story this man had! She wasn't so sure she believed him, but it was drama enough to have her captivated by his every word.
"Who? Elizabeth?" He gave a derisive laugh. "Don't make me ill, darlin'," he said shortly. "I just put too much trust in that damned she-devil, expectin' her to be as dependable as she made herself out to be. And for once I'll admit…" His eyes darkened, and he glared at his boots. "I was very, very wrong, and that one, tiny mistake led to me horrific and apparently rather untimely death." His expression was vicious, and she trembled as he turned on her again. "Now, if you'll 'scuse me, sweetheart," he said gruffly, "I'll just be wakin' the crew, then." As he passed her, he patted her disheveled hair in an affectionate way that might have even been considered fatherly by some. She watched him go with a feeling of uncertainty growing within her. The white sunlight finally spilling across the deck made Jack's sweat-coated flesh shine a deep, rich bronze. She swallowed, looking away from him. Why did such an infuriating man have to be so frustratingly handsome, and have such an enthralling past?
She began to wonder uncontrollably about the approximate number of female thighs that the famous Captain Jack Sparrow had pried apart, and the number of virgins he'd undoubtedly corrupted. But when she could not decide on even a vague range, she assumed it was probably best that she didn't know, anyway. She shook her head disgustedly and cleared her throat in an attempt to rid her mind of the sudden images haunting her.
"On deck, lads!" Jack shouted authoritatively in the general direction of the forecastle. "Come on, move it!" The five men within burst forth from the cabin as though there'd been a fire lit beneath them. They were all scrambling forward desperately, some hurriedly shoving boots back on their feet, and many yanking on their shirts.
"'S so early, cap'n," Mr. Gibbs grunted from the helm, looking sleepy. "What's all the hurry?"
Jack glared at him. "Master Gibbs, you know full well what we're headin' for, and that's requirin' an early start, today." He looked around at the rest of them. "Well, to your stations, ye squiffy waisters! Have at it! We're catchin' up!"
Carlotta rushed towards him at a jog. Her boots clunked hollowly on the wood, and he turned to face her at their echoing sound. "Are we really catching up to the Pearl, Captain?" she asked, her face red in anticipation.
He stared intently into her excitement-filled eyes. "We're certainly on a set course," he assured her with a grin. "And that looks good by all accounts." His gaze traveled over her entire face, and his grin dropped slightly. "Why don't y' get yourself a bit o' more rest," he suggested, "then I can come an' get you when we're close. Ye're not needed s' much, now, what with our rather grungy new shipmates committed to us. They'll be all the necessary help, I assure ye, miss."
She raised her eyebrows. "'Miss?'" she repeated incredulously. "You're telling me to get rest? Politely? Why?"
"Well if you won't take the sleep you're offered, you'll do as you're told along with the others," he snarled. "Now off with ye!" He waved her towards the rest of the crew, and marched up to the helm to take over for Gibbs. He flipped his compass open, staring hungrily at it, and Carlotta couldn't help shudder at his crazed expression. Mr. Gibbs barked strict orders to her while looking extremely apprehensive, and she followed them silently.
Her work was very poor. Most often, she needed assistance in the duties she was assigned, and on the occasion that she completed a task on her own, it would have to be redone. What strength she had was failing her today, for exhaustion had lowered her ability to concentrate, and made her weak. She was yawning heavily for hours, before someone finally yelled at her to get her head back onto her shoulders. She curtsied slightly without thinking as an impulsive response, and the man laughed at her. Scowling, she decided it was probably best that she did get some extra rest before they caught up with Jack's precious Pearl. She stumbled groggily to the forecastle, wishing she wasn't as paranoid as she was so that she could have slept better last night. She collapsed into the gently rocking hammock with a gracious sigh. Oh, what she wouldn't give for her bed back in Santiago, now… or even the bed in the captain's quarters. She wouldn't even have minded that. But for now, this was all she had, and she sunk gladly into its snug curves, feeling herself nodding off already.
"Miss Carlotta!" a voice was calling. Its tone was deep and sharp, and it terrified her. She sat up so fast that she tilted the hammock, and moments later, her face connected with the rough wood floor.
She groaned. "What?" she asked wildly. Her head was spinning, and her lower belly pulsing as though she'd just awoken from an erotic dream she could not remember. Looking around confusedly, she saw Mr. Gibbs staring at her curiously.
"You're wanted by the cap'n," he informed her. "He's sent me to wake ye."
"Thank you, sir," she replied sweetly with a watery smile. The side of her head was throbbing with pain from her collision with the floor. She rubbed it gingerly as she stood, wondering why Jack could never get her name right when his first mate certainly could, and followed Gibbs from the forecastle. The sun was blazing hot again, far past sunrise. She had clearly been sleeping a while.
Jack stood imposingly at the helm, his face aglow with sunlight. She cleared her throat to make her presence known, and he glanced quickly around. "Ah!" he exclaimed at the sight of her. "Carla!" he sauntered arrogantly down to her, a smug look on his face. "Just the woman I wanted to see!" His eyes were already at her chest, but she crossed her arms and glared at him with her eyebrows raised, and he quickly returned his gaze to her face. "Y' aren't intendin' to betray me, are you, love?"
She was taken aback. "Er… no," she said cautiously. "Why? Is this a trick question?"
The pirate captain smirked. "No, dearie, but I'm thinkin' y' might be of some use to me cause."
Her expression contorted with confusion, and the side of her head that had broken her fall from the hammock throbbed in angry protest. "…How?" she inquired. "What cause?"
"Gettin' the Pearl back, darlin'," he droned impatiently. "Y' see, once we get to 'er, I'll be needin' a bit of assistance from ye."
Anxiety built rapidly within her. "Er… well… what's your plan, so far?" Jack was such a drunken madman, she wasn't sure she trusted following any plan he'd devised.
He grinned at her. "The two ships'll meet," he began excitedly, "and I'll invoke parlay for us and the rest of the crew. Barbossa and I'll 'ave a good, long chat over me terms, which'll include maroonin' 'im on an island with nothin' save for a pistol with one shot, just like 'e did to me." His lip curled. "Y'know, I tried to mutiny against 'im, too, after that, but he jus' locked me in the brig an' marooned me for yet a second time. I don't expect him to go quietly this time, either," he admitted bitterly, "but if I can know that the charts are… well hidden… I might feel better with that on me advantage. I know 'e won't comply to bein' marooned, but if we can 'old off on tellin' 'im where the charts be for just long enough 'e won't dare do us harm, for fear of never knowin' where they are. Then soon into the voyage, I can lead the rest o' his crew to a mutiny against the bloody bastard."
Carlotta smiled slightly. "I get the feeling you don't like Barbossa very much."
Jack smirked. "Not very much, no," he admitted. "Though he did help in bringin' me back durin' that little time when I was dead."
"He did?"
"Aye, but only so as to could accomplish 'is own ends," he grunted irritably. "An' Elizabeth helped 'cause she felt too damned guilty to let me stay dead. An' her good, great, pure, noble William only helped because he wanted to steal me Pearl, which 'ad been trapped in Davy Jones' Locker with me. You'd think I wasn't likeable." Though his voice held an edge of sarcasm, his smile was dry, and it didn't hide the scowl hovering around his dark features.
For a moment, she didn't know what to say to this, but eventually she decided it wasn't worth a response. "So, how do I fit into your brilliant plan, Captain?" she asked cautiously.
He smiled more genuinely at the sound of his title. "You'll be playin' me well hidden hiding place, m' dear Carla," he slurred, leaning very close to her so that those dark, heavily kohl-lined, narrow eyes were exactly level with hers. "Savvy?" She shook her head, feeling her heart rate increase dramatically with his face this near to her own. "You keep the charts on your person. S' long as you keep up a guise of a man, and hold your bleedin' tongue, he won't pick you out of the crowd as anyone suspicious. He'll think it's somewhere aboard our ship, now won't he? Who'd expect it's in the possession of a scrawny crewmember, eh?"
She wrinkled her nose. His breath was absolutely putrid as he grinned maniacally into her face, and she nearly gagged. "When was the last time you cleaned your teeth, I wonder?" she asked him in a rather choked voice.
He made a sound of indignation, and pivoted on his heel away from her for a moment, lifting a cupped hand to his face to breathe into it, and get a whiff of his own stench. He seemed completely unabashed by the smell, however, and turned back to her looking grumpier than before. "That is unrelated," he said in a strangely high tone of voice. "All that matters at the moment is whether or not you're willin' to take part in me plan. So… what d' you say, love?" He stuck out his hand to shake hers, but she didn't take it right away. She could see too many flaws in this so-called plan. He was betting a lot on Barbossa's stupidity, and this was a pirate who had apparently been clever enough to maroon Jack twice, and steal his ship twice. Then again, Jack was a pirate who had escaped all of these death sentences, and even returned from the dead, once… though with Barbossa's assistance. She had no other ideas, though, and she did genuinely want to help Jack get his ship returned to him, now. She'd grown fond of the Captain, and she couldn't resist the urge to keep him happy.
And so, with a shrug, she accepted his offered hand, and shook it. "I'll do it, but you're positively barking mad," she told him bitterly. "What if this doesn't work?"
"My plans always work," he snapped defiantly.
"And you still won't tell me what the Fountain of Youth is, will you?" she asked, already knowing what the answer would be.
"No. You've no need to be informed of that, lass." He made a face at her. She rolled her eyes, and pulled a similarly grotesque expression at him. It made the side of her face pound. She could feel a bruise developing there, and scowled, placing a cautious hand to the sore area. To her surprise, Jack seemed concerned. "What's this, darlin'?" he asked quietly, his voice quiet and hoarse. He reached up to her face, his ringed fingers prying her hand delicately away from her cheek, and lightly brushing his own fingertips along the tender spot. "You're all red, here. What happened?" She stared at him.
She shrugged. "Nothing," she told him curtly, trying to sound unaffected by the feel of his cool fingers hovering directly over the scalding flesh of her face. "I just… fell out of the hammock in the forecastle."
Jack raised his eyebrows in slight amusement, and pressed his hand fully against her cheek. It hurt, and she grimaced, reaching up and clenching a fistful of his shirt without even realizing it. He chuckled. "Having wild dreams, were ye, love?" he growled suggestively, his eyes trailing to her lips, then down to her bosom again. She rolled her eyes, and pulled out of his grasp again, feeling oddly cold when she did so.
"No," she spat icily. She was glaring at him, but she could feel a faint blush creeping treacherously up her cheeks.
He smirked, and gave an indistinct shrug of disappointment. "Well, y' did get some sleep, at least, aye, darlin'?" She nodded, blinking back the tiredness that was still lingering in her eyes. "That's good. And no one tried to do ye no harm?"
"They didn't," she said, her voice cracking. "Doesn't mean they won't."
He laughed lightly. "Carla, m' dear, if you're plannin' on stayin' a pirate, you'd best accustom yourself to sleepin' around men."
"It's Carlotta. And can you blame me for being afraid? I'm just a woman. I've no way to defend myself against any man who might try to…" She broke off, feeling a shudder pass through her bones.
Jack's expression fell to something surprisingly serious. Her face must have displayed her paranoia excellently to make Jack look suddenly so guilty. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, and she raised her eyebrows at him. "Y' know, if you ever wanted a different place to sleep," he told her, "you're always welcome to kip in the captain's cabin." He grinned slyly.
She narrowed her eyes at him incredulously. "With you, you mean?" she clarified.
"Not… with me, my dear," he explained slowly. "Simply… with me by your side." His grin widened. "I swear I'd ne'er lay a hand on ye, miss," he assured her, sweeping off his hat and holding it to his heart as he raised his left hand. "Pirate's honor."
"Well, I can't imagine a pirate's honor is particularly honorable," she quipped, smiling politely at him. "Thank you for the offer, Captain, but I'd rather sleep on the deck than in an enclosed cabin with you and your wandering hands." Her stomach churned. Though the logical side of her was, indeed, sickened by the very thought of sleeping in the same room as Jack Sparrow, her unhelpful side was grossly imagining those rough hands sliding all over her body. She coughed to rid herself of the picture. It didn't work, so she resigned herself to stomping off towards the opposite end of the ship.
She hoped they reached the Black Pearl soon. Surely a bit of adventure would take her mind off the frustratingly attractive Captain Jack Sparrow… at least for a little while, anyway.
A/N: Thanks for reading, my lovelies!! I hope you enjoyed it!! Sorry for the annoying shortness of it. I'm just sorta... stalling on writing the confrontation with the Pearl. I don't do action sequences, so I have NO idea how I'm gonna do this. Should be an interesting experiment, though, aye?? ...Eek.
