I have had "Chapter 14" and nothing else written in this document for weeks. Maybe this little announcement will inspire me to write…

CHAPTER 14

"Mummy?"

"Yes darling?" Elizabeth asked as she set Michael onto his bed.

"When am I gonna be a pirate like daddy?"

Elizabeth tucked the blanket to his chin. "You are a pirate, sweetie."

"But not like daddy. When will I get to steer the boat?"

"One day, lad."

Elizabeth turned around to see her husband—at least by pirate law—standing in the doorway.

"One day this whole ship will be yours. Me and your mum will be too old to handle it."

"The wheel too?"

Jack smiled kneeling down next to the bed. "Even the wheel."

Michael smiled widely before looking back at his father. "When will you be old?"

X+X+X+X+X+X

"Smith!"

Barbossa stopped mid-stride, groaning at the thought of spending another minute with the arrogant commodore. He got his grimaces out, put on his best faux smile, and faced Gillette.

"Ah!" he said in replacement for the name he had suddenly forgotten. "You! Goodman!"

He was finally saved from his rambling when the oblivious commodore spoke up. "Where are ya headed to?"

"Just taking another look around."

"Ahh. Come have a drink." He turned away without a response from Barbossa.

Hector cursed silently at his unlucky fate, but followed the man into his cabin.

Pouring two drinks, one for himself and one for Hector, he sat on the edge of the desk in what he assumed was a cool way. "So how have you been spending your time? I've seen you hardly at all.

"The people on this ship always seem to know how to entertain."

X+X+X+X+X+X

Alex and Azalea sat bored on the floor tossing a small block of wood, which Alex had tripped over countless times before deciding to sue it for someone else' back and forth. The crates were now set up in such a way that you'd have to go through a maze of boxes before entering a small area with towering walls made of even more crates. Azalea sat against one wall and Alex, another. "Where's Smith?" Alex asked after what felt like hours of silence.

"Alex, his name is Barbossa."

"What?"

"He's your father, remember?"

"Right."

Azalea stood up and sat back down next to him with a smile. "I know it will take some getting used to. But isn't it invigorating to know who he is? And not only that he's out there, but he's here, talking to you."

"Yeah, I guess," Alex said with as little emotion Azalea thought possible when it came to the subject of long-lost fathers.

"Hey, it'll get better." She took the younger boy's hand in hers. He looked up at her smiling, as if that one gesture had cured all of his sadness. "Alex, can I ask you a question?"

"Yeah, sure," he said, his smile fading a bit.

"You don't really seem to like the idea of Hector being your father. But you two got along so well before. Is there any reason, you know…in particular that suddenly makes you…dislike him?"

He shrugged. "I don't dislike him. I guess I just like him more as a friend than a father."

"Well let me ask you this: have you ever seen him act fatherly…at all?"

Alex smiled. "I guess not."

X+X+X+X+X+X

Elizabeth was hanging up some of the clothes she had washed—something she had started doing after failing to stand the smell of old clothes only a week sailing—when she felt a hand come down on her shoulder. "Jesus balls!" she cried, dropping the basket of wet clothes in her hands.

"Finally starting to talk like a pirate, eh luv?"

"Goodness, Jack, you scared me."

Jack removed his hand from his shoulder and, along with his other hand, wrapped it around her small waist. "That was the point, luv."

"Well it was not funny," Elizabeth removed herself from Jacks grip and began hanging clothing once again.

"Funny as it may not be, I have something that will make up for it," Jack said opening his arms wide. "Follow me luv—nay!" (Elizabeth's eyes widened at this) "Close your eyes, I shall lead you." Jack's arm wrapped around Elizabeth's waist once more, and she closed her eyes and was led to what she assumed (she couldn't see, she could only navigate in her head) was somewhere in Jack's quarters. She was right. When she opened her eyes, however, it looked completely different from how it usually looked. There wasn't an empty, or any kind of rum bottle laying around, and the large dining table, usually strewn with various maps, now displayed a succulent-looking feast that almost made Elizabeth drool at the sight. Replacing the rum were bottles of wine, along with tall, thin glasses.

Finally able to tear her eyes away from the beautiful sight in front of her, Elizabeth turned back to Jack, gaping. "Jack…you did all this…"

"For you? Of course, luv, Captain Jack keeps his woman well treated." Noticing the slight glare in "his woman's" eyes, he quickly stuttered on, "The beautiful, glorious woman who chooses to be with me, is what I of course mean."

"That's what I thought," Elizabeth said, falling lightly onto his chest.

X+X+X+X+X+X

"Took you long enough," Azalea said with a smirk as Barbossa entered the dome of crates.

He frowned. "I was finally able to get away from him…"

"Yes, Commodore Gillette can be a bit overbearing," Alex chimed in.

Barbossa turned to him, eyebrows raised. "A bit?

"Well…a lot. But it's not as though I'm used to talking bad about the Commodore. I'm new to this…"

Azalea smiled in an isn't that cute? way. She suddenly lurched forward, drawing the attention of the two men in front of her. "Not again," were the words she was able to get out before grasping her mouth. Alex knew what was happening and quickly to get a bucket and placed it prominently in front of her.

"Miss Smith, you're as white as a ghost," Alex said once Azalea emerged from the bucket.

His father rolled his eyes. "She just vomited. Do you expect her to be peppy?"

"Well I don't know. But I do know I'm never that pale after vomiting. And I used to vomit an awful lot, sea-sickness you know?"

"Azalea's not used to being sea-sick. It's probably new to her. Right?"

Azalea shook her head, taking in deep gulps of air. "I'm…I'm pregnant."

Barbossa's head automatically snapped to Alex.

"Not me!" The boy held his hands up in defense.

"Then who?" Hector demanded.

"James," came a small voice on the floor. The men's attention was turned from their spat, to her. "We didn't get married; I was able to stop that. But we…we…" Her voice drifted off. She couldn't say it.

The older pirate was silent; he obviously knew what she was getting at. The silence was broken suddenly when the young sailor spoke up.

"What did they do?"

Barbossa looked to Azalea then down at his son, quickly trying to decide who could explain it less awkwardly. Seeing as Azalea was in no mood to speak, he sighed. "Well…you see…Jesus boy, you have to know how women get pregnant!"

Alex's eyes widened. "Oh." Barbossa was looking at him with his eyebrows raised. "I didn't…" Alex stuttered, "…didn't know t-that was what she was…talking about. But. Oh."

OK, this is quite short, because, well, my writing has been quite horrid, and I really feel awful for submitting this. And then I also feel awful for waiting so long to submit something this…awful. Wow. Adjectives are not my friends today. Anyway, please review, to either confirm my dreadful (muaha, good adjective) feelings, or to say, "nonsense, that was wonderful." I more expect the first.