Thanks to my lovely three reviewers for the last chapter: Rwy'n-Y-Blaidd-Drwg, I-am-Derpette, and Pinkbeca!

Rwy'n-Y-Blaidd-Drwg: Yes, this will be a Jack/OC story. :) You know how I love Jack romance fanfictions, haha. Your sister is probably right in reality; his first and only love is probably his rum, but we can all dream, yeah? ;)

Pinkbeca: I try to update every Thursday. Though, I tend to update sooner when I get more reviews.. *wink wink hint hint*

Enjoy the chapter!


Chapter 8: Tragic Misunderstanding

Lauren hesitantly stepped into Jack's cabin. Her first instinct was to step right back out; there were dirty clothes lumped together in piles on the floor and strewn across the furniture. The furniture itself needed to be wiped down; the nearest dresser to her was dusty and there were food crumbs scatter across the top, not to mention the drawers were all open and overflowing. His bed, while large and ornate, had the sheets crumpled and falling off of the mattress. She didn't want to know the last time that they had been washed. She didn't want to know, actually, the last time the entire room had been cleaned.

She was grateful for the maids at home that kept everything so tidy and – no. That was no longer her home. Her name was Gerard Harvey and… her stomach twisted She had to just stop thinking. She realized that Jack had asked her a question and was awaiting her answer. "P-pardon?" Her voice was high.

He raised his eyebrows. "What the 'ell was goin' on?"

She deepened her voice. "I-I…" she didn't know where to begin, or even how the fight had begun. "It was all just a tragic misunderstanding. I reached for some of the food, and my chair happened to move, and…someone tripped over it."

"Where are ye from again?" Jack asked.

The change in conversation surprised her. She wasn't prepared to answer that question yet. "Oh, I… why?"

"Ye have a distinct accent, and I can't place it. Ye were educated, yeah? The way ye speak… we don't get much of that 'round here." He rubbed his chin suspiciously.

Lauren hadn't realized that she had an accent, or that she was speaking eloquently. It was just her natural way of speaking. She would have to consciously try to speak simpler to fit in. "I er… I had a friend that was educated. Rubbed off on me, suppose…" She trailed off.

Jack stared at her, gauging whether she was speaking the truth or not. He figured it didn't really matter. "So yer chair," he prompted, waving his hand for her to continue.

"Yes! Er, I mean yeah…" She coughed. "He tried to punch me and I ducked, he hit someone else. It escalated from there." Was escalated a big word? She needed to practice this more.

"I see." He simply said, studying her. "For a 'tragic misunderstanding'," he used finger quotes, "ye'll have to tragically clean it up." He dismissed her with a wave of his hand.

Lauren fled the room as quickly as possible. Daniel was leaning casually against a couple of crates, waiting for her to emerge. He jumped up when he saw her. "How'd it go?"

"He was rather merciful. I only have to tidy up." She replied.

Daniel nodded. "That's just. I'll help you out."

They waited about half of an hour to make sure the rest of the crew had gone before heading down to clean up. When they arrived, there was only one crewmember still there. It was Michael, the person that Lauren least wanted to see, next to the captain of course, at the moment. He glared at her as they entered the room.

"Gerard, isn't it?" He cracked his knuckles menacingly.

"Now, wait a second." Lauren tried to reason, her hands held up in a gesture of innocence. "This was all just a tragic misunderstanding."

Michael narrowed his eyes and he pointed to his red and swollen jaw. "This," he spat, "is your fault!"

"I know, I know. But I didn't mean to cause you any harm! I wasn't the assailant!" She raised her arms to protect her face as he raised his fist.

"Assailant?" He asked, confused.

"I'm not the one that punched you," she explained. "I don't want to fight you!"

Michael dropped his fist, looking over her small build. "I suppose you wouldn't put up a fight anyhow."

Lauren jumped on this opportunity. "No! I would just drop into a ball until you stopped!"

Michael gave her a queer look. "Next time, boy." He shouldered his way past her and out of the dining hall.

Lauren gave a deep sigh of relief.

"You should stick up for yourself." Daniel remarked.

Lauren regarded him wearily. It was her first day aboard the ship and she had already managed to start a fight and give one man a reason to hate her. And now her stomach seemed to be upset. This didn't bode well. "I've got more important things to worry about." She responded lamely.

Mr. Tubbs came into the hall then, carrying a bucket full of sudsy water and some rags, which he promptly plunked down onto the table. He looked around the messy room in disdain, then promptly left without saying another word, merely glaring at the two of them.

Great, Lauren thought, now even the chef doesn't like me.

Daniel traveled back and forth between the galley and the dining hall, carrying empty plates and dishes. Lauren was left to scrub the food that had managed to get on the walls, chairs, and floors when the fight had erupted. She learned very quickly how messy pirates were, and how meticulous cleaning was. She realized then that she couldn't even think of the last time that she had had to clean up her own mess. When she spilled cups of juice when she was a child, a maid was always right there, cleaning it up before she could even be chastised. When she was carrying a pot of plants once from her father's office to her room, she had clumsily tripped on the stairs and the pot broke, sending soil and bits of plant everywhere. Three maids had rushed to the sound of her falling, and were already sweeping it up before she could realize what was even happening.

How spoiled she had been.

These thoughts only inspired her to scrub harder at a particularly stubborn tomato juice stained onto the wall. She scrubbed viciously at it, not understanding why it wouldn't come off. She grunted and tried a different angle, only for the same result.

"I don't think one tomato stain is going to kill anyone, except maybe you if you keep scrubbing it like that."

Lauren tensed at that voice; she hadn't heard anyone come into the room. She turned to find the captain watching her amusedly. She scowled and dropped the rag back into the sudsy bucket, moving on to a different glop of food on a stool.

He chuckled and moved along.

Gerard wouldn't have laughed at her; he would've praised her for her determination. If he were here, she thought realistically, I wouldn't be in this mess.

The ship creaked and swayed and Lauren suddenly felt very nauseous. Tears sprang to her eyes at her situation and at the loss of Gerard, and she dropped the bucket, sending sudsy water sloshing over the sides. Daniel looked up in alarm, but she was already out of the hall, racing to the top deck. She reached the side just in time and vomited. She groaned and heaved several more times. She quickly dashed her tears away. Men didn't cry, so she wouldn't either.

This thought didn't settle her stomach, or her head for that matter. Her head reeled, and she slid down the railing to the floor of the deck, putting her head between her knees.

"It'll pass in a few days!"

"Gettin' used to the sea, eh?"

"I heard a bit o' rum helps the stomach!"

The crew seemed highly amused at her weak stomach, but she ignored them. She just tried to keep from throwing up again. After a few minutes, she thought it had passed, but another wave overcame her and she leapt up to barf into the water below. Just watching it made her even more sick, so she fixed her eyes on the horizon line. She vomited once more, and then weakly fell back to the floor. She laid her head against the cool planks of wood and closed her eyes.

"Oi! Sleepin' on the job?" A husky voice asked.

Lauren groaned inwardly and slowly raised herself to a sitting position. She had to lean her head far back to see his face. It was dark against the bright sun that shone directly behind him. "I—" Before she could turn and make it to the side, she threw up right there onto the captain's boots. Her eyes widened and she scrambled to the railing, making sure to heave over the edge. She gagged, though nothing came up. When it passed she turned, wiping her mouth against her white shirt, and looked warily at the captain.

"I am so sorry!"

Jack stared down at his boots in disbelief. That hadn't happened before. "Ye can clean this up, and me boots, when you're done with the dining hall." He carefully took off his boots, making sure to avoid her vomit, and stomped to his cabin. "Gibbs!" He shouted as he went.

Lauren slumped resignedly against the rail. What a rough first day.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Gibbs waited patiently for his captain, who was currently digging through the bottom of one of his many trunks for an old pair of boots. "Whad'ya think of that boy?" He called, the upper half of his body almost completely inside the large trunk.

"Which one?"

"Jack emerged triumphantly, holding a pair of brown boots that had seen better days. He slipped them on. "The one called Gerard."

"He seems a bit…green." Gibbs said, and then chuckled at his own joke. "Since he's pukin', an' since he's no idea what he's doin'."

Jack nodded, overlooking his pun. "I thought the same, but there's something unusual about him."

"There's somethin' unusual about most pirates aboard this ship, cap'n." Gibbs replied. "Look at Cotton."

"Yes," Jack replied distractedly. He sat down on his desk and fiddled with a feather quill. He leaned forward. "Just that name sounds familiar…Gerard Harvey…" he trailed off.

"Can't say I've heard it before."

Jack shook his head. "I know I've heard it. I just can't place where. An' another thing. Ye hear how he speaks? He's no lowly born citizen lookin' for a way out."

"Ye think he's a spy, cap'n."

Jack crossed his arms. "I dunno. But I don' trust him. Send Michael in here."

Gibbs left the room and shortly returned with Michael, who looked about him in confusion. Jack waved his hand and Gibbs left the two alone. "Cap'n." Michael greeted gruffly.

Jack nodded at him. "Yer friendly with the lad, Gerard, correct?"

Michael frowned. "Not particularly."

"What do ye know of him?"

"Not much, captain. It's only our first day aboard."

"I need ye to do somethin' for me. I don' trust him, an' I need ye to keep an' eye on him."

The big man grinned, showing his crooked teeth. "Aye, cap'n." He cracked his knuckles. "Gladly."


Day one and there is already trouble brewing... tell me your predictions! As always, reviews make my day! :D Especially now since I am getting close to finals... almost done with my first year of college though! :D

xxx Becca