Hello folks. Sorry about that last chapter. I think I'd best bring up my Disclaimers up. A disclaimer to Monty Python, Pulp Fiction, Disney Land, Jurassic Park, and Timothy Burbridge. I don't own him or Sea Trek (Thank God) I suppose I also owe a disclaimer to the UFP, though they shouldn't sue me. You might say this is an advertisement, crazy jerks. A disclaimer to anything I've quoted such as That's the Spirit, a theatrical one acts play and ... well, Angus Barnette, Giles New, and of course, Johnny Depp.
Without further ado, I give you what you've been waiting (or not) for;
Chapter XX –Into the Plains Invisible
Scarlette sat up in anger, standing from the couch and stepping angrily over the slumped bodies of the boys. She was holding the key in her hand and it was clean of blood, completely. She held it in her hand and growled in anger when it didn't react. She tried to remember what had happened and recalled showing it to Cap. He must have scratched it off. She wanted to scream. She was stuck here in a room full of computer nerds in the 21st century. It was hardly preferable to being surrounded by pirates.
She paced around the small kitchen, feeling trapped in the room where her footsteps echoed around the linoleum.
She wanted to wring every neck in that room and then flee forever but she continued pacing until she had calmed down a bit. She tip toed to the other room, picked up the phone and carried it into the kitchen with her. She tried to dial but there wasn't a ring tone.
"Dammit!" she exclaimed. One or two of the boys stirred and sat up, sleepy eyes, their hair tousled.
"Someone shoot me," one of them said. "My head is going to explode.
"Well, that's what you get for drinking all night," she spat. She remembered all too well the mornings she'd woken up and thought she was going to die with that hangover. Damn, Jack.
After a while, the boys all woke. Scarlette filled a bucket she'd found and let them have it.
"What! What did you do that for?" Tony sputtered.
"If they go home like this, their parents are going to come straight over here to chew you out. If they go home sober, they can at least try to explain themselves."
The boys shrugged and let her handle the situation. She opened the fridge and pulled out some cans of soda, giving them out. "Drink these. It'll help. The caffeine does that for some reason."
They glanced at each other. Darren spoke up. "How come you're okay? Didn't you drink more than any of us?"
She gave him a dark look. "If you only knew the half of it."
The boys did sober up after a while and one by one, they left. Scarlette sat back on the couch, sulking, her arms crossed in anger. Her two hosts shrugged and left her to herself.
…
Nick woke with a start as Barbossa smacked the bars with the flat of his sword. "You boy. You're comin' with me."
"Nope," Nick said groggily. "I ain't goin' nowhere with you. You'll just kill me."
Barbossa sneered at him. "That is a thought, but I need to speak with ye. Get up."
Nick stood and brushed himself off. Barbossa wrenched open the door and grabbed him roughly by the arm, bruising his flesh in his powerful grip.
Nick was dragged over the moonlit decks and pulled rudely into the captain's quarters. He was thrown to the floor without ceremony and left to blink in rapid succession as Barbossa slammed the door.
"Eat, boy," Barbossa growled. "You're going to need your strength." Nick then noticed the candles on the table, which was laden with food. The boy hungrily moved and reached for the food, but hesitated.
"Why are you feeding me?" he asked suspiciously. "Is this poisoned?"
Barbossa laughed. "There will be no sense to be killin' ya, Mr. Maxwell. I'm merely here to talk to ya about your dear sister."
Nick scoffed. "My dear sister? It's her fault I'm here in the first place. 'Dear,' he says. Pishaw." Nick pulled a grape off one long stem, sniffed it, licked it charily and popped it into his mouth, squishing the purple fruit between his teeth, savoring the tasty juices as they slid over his tongue.
Barbossa was watching him carefully, wishing he could eat. "I'm going to give ye the chance to take what Jack and Scarlette both violently, yet cunningly declined. How would ye like to be me partner, eh?"
Nick glared at him. "Is that what you came to ask me? I can't betray my friends. In other words, I am disinclined to acquiesce to your request."
Barbossa laughed shortly and shook his head. "What do you take me for boy? I don't want the others, just Scarlette. I've decided to kill her."
Nick looked neutral. "You killed her already. Jack is your target."
Lifting the boy up by the neck, Barbossa growled. "Do not presume to tell me my agenda, boy." He set him down and gave him a look. "I know Jack is still alive but he's a matter for another day. With your help, I can take Scarlette and send her below. Are you interested yet? It gets better, my friend. You will become Captain Nicholas Maxwell, the commander of The Opal's Revenge. Have I perked your interest yet?"
Nick popped another few grapes into his mouth, rubbed his neck unconcernedly, and stared at Barbossa pointedly. "And you won't harm the others?"
Barbossa smiled. "No, I won't harm the others. All I want at this moment is Scarlette. She should be dead … what I did to her should have killed her, but I can feel it. She's still alive. I've tasted her blood and my palette will not rest until she is dead."
Nick thought about it. He hated his sister now that he addressed the issue. He'd risked his life to bring her back to the future and she'd gone back to Jack. Now, she had gotten them into this mess, as he saw it. He made up his mind. As long as it was only Scarlette they were betraying, he could live with it. Plus, he was pretty sure she was dead anyways.
"And I have your word that the others will be safe?"
"Aye, boy," Barbossa agreed. "They'll be safe." Barbossa didn't finish his thought. They would be safe, for the time being. "What say you?" he asked Nick. Nick smiled shortly and held out his hand.
"We're in business, Barbossa," Nick agreed. He hadn't dealt long enough with the murderous captain to be too specific.
"We have an accord," Barbossa shook with the boy and motioned. "Keep eatin'. It'll do you good. You need more meat on your bones. What is it with you and your sister anyways? Both of you have nothing on you, well, I guess I can't really say that fer Scarlette. She's got meat in the right places, if you know what I mean, though I've seen better. A few of them wenches in her party are better." Nick choked on his food but quickly regained his composure.
Barbossa sat back and watched Nick eat the food, relishing when he took one of the apples. He was laughing inside. Scarlette was already dead. He'd killed her himself. Nick was just helping him kill the rest of them, though he had no way of knowing this.
…
Jack woke and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, stretching his cramped limbs. He took a swig of rum and dressed himself quickly. Once he was ready, he went outside to replace Anamaria. She moved off and went to sleep herself.
He checked the compass absently and whistled a verse of 'yo, ho'. They were still on course. He snapped the compass shut.
"SQUAAWWK! Pieces of eight! Pieces of eight!"
"Not right now, Cotton," Jack muttered.
"SQUAWK! Salty old pirates! SQUAWK!"
"Cotton, I'm not flattered by that remark but have it your way. I'll tell a bloody story. Which one?"
"Tell us the Singapore story!" Lizzy exclaimed. "I always wanted to know about that."
There were several more requests and Jack looked around the deck. Bootstrap stood up and suggested louder than the others a story not yet heard.
"You see mates," Bootstrap said. "Our Captain Jack has had many a run in with the East India Trading co. and many an escape as well. I trust you remember the agents, Jack."
"Ah, yes," Jack said with a smirk. "I sure thought that was the end of me, there. I'm not too fond of this story, considering how I was forced to escape but since you brought it up, I suppose I'll tell them an entertaining story."
{FLASHBACK}
Jack was once again on the run. He was hiding out in Bombay, all manner of men following him, or attempting to anyways. Jack, a man of eccentric flaws but flaws nonetheless had raided the local pub the night before and had several bottles of rum and other such goods.
He was walking, drunk of course, at about nine at night when they caught him. Damn East India freaks. He was dragged off to the nearest hotel and held there by a man named Beckett and his six toadies.
There were seven of them in the room with him and he was tied to a chair with the agents in a semi circle around him.
"Tell us where your stash is, Jack," Beckett had said before he was chairman, back when all he could do was threaten people. "That money belongs to England and all the other countries you've pirated against. We intend to get it from you and if you want to keep your miserable hide from hanging, you'll do well to relinquish the location."
"Sorry, boys," Jack said confidently. "I can't help you. I don't know where I left me riches."
"They're not your riches, buffoon," another growled at him. Jack shrugged, despite his hands being tied behind his back. Another struck him across the face and they laughed at his blinking visage. He glared up at them and spit out a glob of blood. Beckett just watched, unblinking, cold.
"Think about it, Sparrow," he told him, his voice strangely intimate. "You might be hung or you might be spared. I care not what happens to you but working with me might influence the outcome."
Jack just looked at him. "You don't have the authority to pardon me, Cutler. Any deal I make with you is a false one."
"Perhaps," he replied, holding up a pistol. "But I have influences in the courts that you do not, Sparrow. Do not forget that. Now, where is the hoard?"
He grinned again. "Would you believe I spent it all?" Beckett raised one aristocratic eyebrow and nodded to the men. They left the room.
Jack shook his head as they slammed the door and locked it.
They sat on the other side of the door and began to converse amongst themselves. A maid came by and entered the room Jack was being kept in. She closed the door behind her and began to tidy up the room beyond.
The men were getting furious in their argument. One wanted to kill him right then and there, another wanting to interrogate him more, maybe use implements of torture. The door opened and closed quickly and they glanced absently at the maid. She left the room without acknowledging them and continued on her way, locking Jack's door behind her.
An hour or so later, the men finally came to a conclusion. They would attempt to persuade Jack by threatening him, one man pulling out another brand, knives and such. They went to the door and unlocked it, opening the door. The lamps had long since been spent out. One man struck up his flint and relit a lantern, glancing around the room. The only thing, besides the lamps, was an empty chair with bits of rope dangling from the arms and legs. Captain Jack Sparrow had vanished yet again. Impossibly so.
All seven of the men became frantic, looking around in a rage. There were no windows in the room and the only door led into the room they had been occupying for the last three hours. The only thing that had passed them had been the maid.
Jack, at the moment, was off again, on his way to Tortuga by angler. He was smirking again, having foiled yet another enemy. He stuffed the clothes in his hand on a random but convenient doorstep and continued on his way to the ship, boarding along with the fisherman, having bartered for passage.
He thought back to what he'd just done and almost laughed aloud. The maid had come in and seen him tied and bloodied. She had given a little squeak of surprise.
"Please untie me," he'd pleaded. "Those men mean to kill me. Help me, please." She hastened to his side and untied the ropes easily. He rubbed his wrists and stood, careful not to make any noise. He watched the maid move about the room and an idea formed in his mind. He touched her shoulder and she whirled around. He grabbed her waist and pulled her in close, kissing her roughly. She made no sound and the tight corset did the rest of the work. She fainted breathlessly and Jack grinned, lowering her to the floor softly and without too much noise.
Looking around, he took in the windowless walls and sighed. There was a hinged panel of wood about stomach level in the wall. He grinned when he spotted the dumbwaiter. He pushed it open and smiled, pulling the ropes until he could see below the platform. It wasn't far at all. He started to climb into it but realized his shoulders were too broad. There was no way he was going to fit into the tiny shoot. He looked back to the unconscious woman.
Another idea formed in his mind, one that was a bit more … embarrassing.
In two strides he made his way to the unconscious maid. He easily untied her dress strings and grimaced. It was the only way he was getting out of this room. He only hoped the agents didn't come in while he was at it.
Soon, he was grudgingly dressed in the maid's clothing, his matted locks bundled under the little hat she wore. He folded his own clothes and placed them on the chair. He didn't want to leave the maid there for if she woke, his escape might be cut off sooner than he'd like. He looked around, absurd in the dress.
She wouldn't have far to fall and it was a soft landing. They used the dumbwaiter for laundry and below was a great pile of clothing and bed sheets and such. He tipped the unconscious woman into the dumbwaiter and watched her slide down the shoot. He then picked up his things, wrapped them in a pillowcase, and exited the room.
Jack was short enough that the dress covered his feet, his boots hidden by the burgundy hems. He'd cinched the apron tightly to give himself the appearance of having a smaller waistline and even had taken the woman's earrings.
He kept his head down, the hat hiding him from view. He left the room and walked quickly until he reached the street. He then sprinted for the stable yard where, next to a very giddy animal, he disrobed and changed back to his own clothing.
"Well Jack," he said to himself. "Now you've tried everything."
{END FLASHBACK}
The future girls were doubled over with laughter. Robin was trying to imagine Jack in the dress, laughing harder when she found she could actually see it. He looked around the deck with a slightly exasperated glance. "What? I had to do it! There was no way out of that bloody room, I tell you."
They were still laughing when a cannon shot ripped through the air. Jack frowned and pulled out his spyglass.
"What was that?" he exclaimed. "That didn't come from behind us." He scanned the sea, discerning a foggy shape through the mist. There was an unintelligible flag waving from the main mast and Jack squinted, attempting to get a glimpse of the colors. It was a three barred flag but other than that, he couldn't make it out. He did notice a peculiar symbol emblazoned on the bow however. He snapped the spyglass shut and turned the helm. If this was an enemy ship, they were in trouble. They would be trapped on both sides.
"Don't strike any colors, men," Jack shouted. "No black flag, no English flag, and sure as hell no merchant flag. We don't know what's on that ship. It could be pirates, Englishmen, Spanish, French, anything. We don't want them comin' down on us." He pulled her hard to starboard and realized he was loosing valuable distance between him and the two pursuing ships, but he had been headed straight for the mystery ship.
Once his course was reset, he held his breath. Would the other ship give chase? It was in a bad position to fire, the bow pointed at the Pearl. Jack squinted through the glass again and made out the symbol on the bow. It was a fleur-de-lis. He smiled slightly. There was a way out of this yet.
…
Scarlette met Kristin at the school that day, Tony and Sean hanging in the background, wondering what she was doing. She talked to the girl quickly and explained what she needed. Kristin shrugged.
"I can't help with that," she told her. "Nick had the beads. I wasn't included. Are you sure you can't get back?"
"Positive," Scarlette told her. "Jack sent me back here because he thought I was dying. I tried to go back this morning but the key's been cleansed. The blood is gone."
"Do you believe her?" Tony asked the girl. She just gave him a look and he shut up. Sean laughed at him.
"I need to get back!" Scarlette exclaimed. "I don't know if he's alive or dead!"
"You're right," Kristin agreed. "You need to get back to him and Sharon."
"Who's Sharon?" Sean asked.
Kristin looked at the two newcomers in wonder, shaking her head in exasperation, then back at Scarlette. The pirate shrugged. "So I didn't tell them the whole story."
"What are you talking about!" they asked in unison, looking at each other and shaking their fists. They were like twins. Very, very fraternal, but twins nonetheless. Tweedledee and Tweedledum.
"I left out the parts about my ... status," she told the Kristin. She nodded in understanding. "I thought that if they knew, they'd take it all as some elaborate joke, you know?"
"We took it that way anyway," Tony muttered.
Scarlette glared at them and frantically began pacing. "I can't wait! I need to go now!"
"Hey, did you hear who died?" Sean asked suddenly. Scarlette perked up but the other girl had heard this before.
"Who?"
"Nope, Geraldo," he exclaimed. He and Tony burst into a fit of laughter and Scarlette blanched.
"Baka ne," she muttered. "Both of you."
"What did you call us?" Tony asked. "Cows?"
"No, that's vaca," she said. "That wasn't Spanish, it was Japanese. Baka means idiot. Geez, sheltered children ye be."
"I can't even speak English very well," Sean muttered. "Let alone Japanese or French."
"Or Spanish," Tony added. "German too."
Scarlette shrugged. "I can only speak three languages, sorry boys. I learned French from a teacher in California, English from everyone else, and Japanese from a little bitch whom I later ended up killing."
"What?" Kristin exclaimed. "What happened?"
Scarlette turned to her. "I had to kill Mei Lin."
"Why?" she asked. "God, what else have I missed?"
Scarlette shrugged. "I was in Barbossa's cabin and she came in and started giving us away. She started telling him about Jack being alive and everything so I shot her."
"What did Barbossa say?"
"He believed me when I told him she was lying. He found out later anyway after he shot me. Jack tried to kill him then but he locked himself in the cabin and, well, after that, I don't know what happened."
The shock of hearing about Mei Lin wore off and the Kristin began to speak again. "What about the others. Are they still alive?"
"I don't know!" Scarlette exclaimed. "Anything could have happened after I was sent back."
Tony scoffed. "I can't believe how well you guys are acting this out!"
Scarlette glared at him. "I suppose I'll just have to prove it to you. Next opportunity I get, you two are coming with me."
They glanced at each other and shrugged.
"That might be a bad idea," Kristin added. "Think about what would happen."
Scarlette shrugged. "They might be impressed into the crew, but it wouldn't last long. Once Jack figured out what they were, he'd send them back."
"Or toss them overboard," Kristin added.
"That's an idea," Scarlette agreed.
"Hey," Tony exclaimed. "You guys are mean."
"I'll drink to that," Sean added.
"One thing's for sure," Scarlette smirked. "They'd fit in with the crew."
The four kids shrugged and walked around the town, chatting, goading, and bantering uselessly at each other.
…
Nick sat uncomfortably in his clothes, the shoes not quite fitting him right. He had been given more fit clothing, breeches, buckle shoes, frock vest, coat, and blouse. He even wore a hat, his long hair curling much like Will's had.
He looked down at his hands, wondered what he was getting himself into, and if it was it worth it? He didn't know.
The morning had come and Nick had been shoved out of the cabin to walk amongst the crew, learn the ropes so to speak.
He was perched up in the rigging, his shoes left below so he could grip the rope better. He was looking at the Pearl and he happened to notice another ship, not the Dragon, but a three masted ship moving along, almost pacing them. The flag had three bands, blue, white, and red, but Nick didn't know what the flag was. He had heard the cannon fire last night and had assumed it was the Pearl but seeing this new ship, he wondered if they had yet another ally.
He smiled to himself and knew, this time, he'd get the better of his sister once and for all.
Barbossa smiled to himself, thinking he'd gotten help he needed without any persuasion at all. Nick wanted to kill his already dead sister.
(Note to readers; those of you who recognize the flag of the mystery ship, I commend you. Those of you who realize what's going to happen soon, I doubly commend you.)
…
Will Turner was pacing in front of the captain's quarters, waiting for Jack to open the door. He had a stiff subject to approach. Jack, annoyed at the constant clack of his shoes on the deck outside, opened the door and gave him a pointed look.
"Are you finished making dust of me planks yet? Come in Will. You could have knocked."
"I did knock."
"Oh, well then, by all means, enter into me humble abode."
Jack shut the door and bade Will to sit at the table. He offered him rum but Will declined.
"I want you to send them back," he told him. "It's too dangerous to have them all here, plus, Elizabeth isn't safe. I want her to go with them."
Jack stared at him sideways. "And you think their time would be safer, do you?"
Will didn't budge, looking at Jack down his nose. "She'll be with Robin and the others. She'll be safe with them to protect her."
Jack continued to look at him neutrally. He stood and went to the door. "Barton! I need ye in me cabin."
The vampire obliged and labored up the steps, entering the room, squinting at the lamps lit within. Jack shut the door and the three men sat at the table.
"Will here wants to send the women back to their time, along with Elizabeth," Jack enlightened him.
"That's a very good idea," Barton agreed. "They'll be out of the crossfire then. Bring 'em up."
A few minutes later, the women on the ship, minus Anamaria, trooped into Jack's cabin.
"I'm sending ye back," he told them. "And Will has requested that you take Elizabeth with you."
Everyone suddenly broke out in anger.
"We can't leave! Nick's still over there!"
"I'm not leaving you, Will!"
"Why do we have to go back?"
"You're a banana eater!"
"Quiet!" Jack exclaimed. "I'm sorry, ladies, but I can't risk having you aboard. Do you know what Barbossa's men might do to you?"
"We don't care!" Robin exclaimed. "We want to stay and fight!"
"Bloody Styrofoam!" Jack exclaimed.
"Why would Styrofoam be bloody?" Lizzy asked absently. Robin snorted.
"I don't know," she answered. "Maybe it's some weird type of tampon."
"Um ..." Will spoke softly and timidly. "What's a tampon?" the girls, minus Elizabeth, broke into a gale of laughter. Claudia started to explain it but couldn't get the words out.
Jack sighed and nodded to Barton. He moved up to Robin, took her necklace in his hand, jammed it into his thumb, and pushed her away from him. She disappeared. The others were all trapped seeing as Will stood by the door. The vampire made his rounds, sending them back with their own gold and using other things, a golden corkscrew Jack had lying around, a candlestick Jack had filched, etc. Heather was the last one standing in the cabin and as Barton approached her with a golden spoon, she pulled out her sword and threatened him.
"Don't come near me or I'll skewer you," she threatened, taking a fencing stance, her left hand crooked behind her head, her feet making a corner of a box, spread about a foot and a half apart.
"Will, this one's all yours," Jack muttered, gesturing in her direction and uncrossing his legs in the chair. Will gave him a furious glance and Jack motioned. "Go on. Here's the deal. If Will can disarm you, you get sent back. If he loses, unlikely, you can stay. Got it?"
She nodded and breathed, readying her body for the duel. Will sighed, standing and pulling out his epée with a ringing sound. Heather grinned and the two faced off. She, unlike the other girls, actually knew how to fight. Their swords clashed for a good ten minutes and Jack sighed. "Hurry it up, Will."
Will sneered and gave a roundabout swing, flinging her sword into the air. It flew in an arc, landing with a ping in the seat of Jack's chair, right between his legs, making him jump back. The blade had pinned part of his breeches, barely missing him. He breathed loudly, his dark eyes wide.
"Holy Styrofoam!" he exclaimed. "Me life's just flashed before me eyes! Will, you did that on purpose, bloody blacksmith." Jack attempted to pull the sword from the chair and realized that, knowing Will, it was futile. "Great. I'm pinned by me pants to the seat of this chair. I hope you're satisfied."
"Pants that don't point North," Heather giggled. "Fencing pants." Will looked at her incredulously but broke into laughter. Jack grabbed the hilt and tried again to remove the blade in his ... crotch area.
Both Will and Heather were laughing uncontrollably. Barton moved over to Jack and pulled the pirate off the chair, a ripping sound following. Jack stood there, a large rip on the inside of his pant leg. Heather averted her eyes and Jack grumbled. He took the spoon from Barton and handed it to her, clapping a hand on her shoulder. She disappeared.
He kicked Will and Barton out, changing his breeches and tossing the other ones into a scrap pile. A knock came on the door and Barton reentered the room.
"I'll have you know, Jack that the ones I sent back all landed in water," he told him.
"Your point?"
"I controlled it that way so that they wouldn't come back against your orders. The problem lies with the last one. You sent her back and I didn't have a chance to direct her path. She landed in Oregon, no doubt, but as for where, I can't say. That spoon might be capable of bringing her back."
Jack growled. "Why didn't you warn me?"
Barton smiled and shook his head. "I was laughing too hard."
Jack gave him a glare and Barton smiled, leaving the room. Jack sighed and muttered to himself. "So glad everyone thinks Captain Jack Sparrow's little mishaps are so hilarious."
…
Scarlette and her ridiculous future escorts were walking around in the park, tossing stones at ducks and dodging hippies.
"So you need to get back to the past, but you don't have any way of doing so," Sean spoke as if he were trying to clarify the story. Scarlette just nodded, tired of vocally confirming her agitation.
"Won't he come to get you?" Kristin asked. "Logically, I mean? If you stay away for too long, he may come looking for you."
"Maybe," she sighed. "I feel like I'm wasting time, just wandering about. There isn't much I can do but I know it's not as if the solution to my problem is just going to fall into my lap."
Heather landed right on top of Sean, knocking him to the floor. The four of them were so surprised that Scarlette had her sword drawn before she realized it was Heather. Tony fainted dead away and Sean threw her off his back, looking around.
"Who hit me?" he exclaimed. "I'll kill 'em! Who was that? Oh, it's you. Hi, Heather. Where'd you come from?"
"Jack sent me back dammit!" she exclaimed. Then she started laughing hysterically. "You should have seen him, Scarlette. It was the funniest thing in the world! He almost got speared! Hey …" she looked around. "How do you know these guys?"
Scarlette smiled and helped Heather off the ground. "We just met. Where's the piece?"
"What, this?" Heather asked. She held up the spoon Scarlette grabbed it and was about to activate it but Kristin caught her hand.
"You're not going without us, Scarlette," she told her. Scarlette scowled.
"Very well then," she said. "Let's get Tony back to the apartment and stock up on weapons at least."
"What are you guys talking about?" Sean exclaimed. He was looking down at Tony, who had hit the wet grass and soggy dirt rather hard. Scarlette handed the spoon to Kristin and told her not to think about anything. She grabbed the front of Tony's blue sweatshirt and hauled him up; Sean grabbed the back of him, and slowly they got Tony to his feet. Sean draped one arm over his shoulder and dragged his friend towards the apartment.
It took the better part of an hour but they made it, eventually. Once they were there, Scarlette gave him the bucket again and Tony sat up in a shouting fit.
"What the—" he looked at them and slapped his head. "What happened? Was I drunk?"
Sean started laughing uncontrollably as the girls looked at each other. Scarlette gave him a stare, her eyes rimmed in black. "You fainted, ring a bell?"
Tony looked confused, nothing new to him of course. Tony was always confused. No, it wasn't stupidity that made him confused. Mostly it was Sean.
Scarlette explained the situation to them and told them the plan that would take place tonight. They would sneak downtown to the weapons shop down the road and break in. Luckily, Heather knew her way around the store and they could grab everything they needed quickly.
Night fell and soon after, at about nine, the five teens were eating. Scarlette had washed her hair and dried it out the hard way, brushing it out with her fingers. It gave her a wild look, with her darkly rimmed eyes and the holsters still all over her, Jack's coat fitting her a little largely.
It sure is good to be eating junk food again," she commented. "Of course, I may never get the chance to eat it again."
"Well, you can't just leave him," Heather spoke. "You are married and there's Sharon."
"What are you guys talking about?" Tony asked.
"Nothing," Scarlette said quickly.
"Oh, no you don't," Sean cut in. "You've said that too many times now tell us what's going on. You're married, now that much we know, thanks to Heather. Spill."
Scarlette sighed and ignored them but Heather couldn't sit still. "She's married to Jack."
The boys were silent for a minute and then Tony started laughing. "Oh, that's a good one. You expect us to believe that?" The girls looked utterly serious but Scarlette continued eating, ignoring everyone.
"I'm not even going to ask," Sean muttered. "I'd say they're nuts, right Tony?"
"Oh yeah," Tony agreed. "Way nuts. Bonkers. Absolutely crazy."
"You'll see," Kristin told them.
…
Below decks on the Pearl, the crew was talking amongst themselves. Laderoc was busy scrubbing the floor, not that it would matter if they were killed in the next few hours. Kursab, one of the larger crew members groaned and punched Dobereiner in the arm. "Why we doin' this? You seen that other ship. If it comes here, were all dead."
"Shut yer yap," Duncan snapped. "It won't do to talk bad 'bout it. If we die, we die. That's the way the hardtack crumbles."
"Damn scurvy dogs," Tearlach exclaimed. "They ain't stoppin' till both Jack and his lass are dead."
"Don't be getting' any ideas," Crimp told him. The rest of the crew nodded. Matelot scowled and spit on the floor, getting a growl from Laderoc. Matelot glared at him and Laderoc stood, giving him eye contact.
"Oye, knock it off," Moises told them, separating the two crewmen. "We shant fight here or at all. That be lashes, it be, if Anamaria sees ya."
"I'd like to give her a go," Quartetto snorted. The men broke into laughter.
"Not I," Crimp added. "She'd hate it if she knew you were talkin' 'bout her."
"Hell, I hate talkin' 'bout her like that," Duncan added. "She's like me sister. We even look alike!" It was true. They both had creamy brown skin and lark dark eyes. One might actually think them related.
"Lucky you," Laderoc grunted, thumbing his large nose and tying his bandana tighter. Quartetto shrugged at Laderoc and Duncan and started laughing.
"You may hate your schnoz, Laderoc, but at least you aren't like this," he pulled off his unkempt wig and the men saw the large scab that covered nearly his whole bald head.
"What happened to you?" Ichiroku asked. He was bald himself, but it was something he chose.
"Scalped by the Lenape," Quartetto answered. "I was in Delaware colony and the damn injuns raided my brother's farm. They tried to scalp me but must not have done it right, or somthin'. How many people can you say you know that survived a scalpin', eh?"
"Hell, you're the first," Matelot agreed pulling on his salt and pepper beard. "I'd like ta have Crimp's hair, though. Look at it!"
Crimp looked up from his work, whittling a spoon or something, and gave an uneasy stare around the deck. His hair, which was down to his shoulders, was a shiny black color, coiled tightly into several springs of hair.
Matelot pulled one of the curls and stretched it until the black shine was taut, then he let it go, the coil springing.
"Do you think we're going to escape?" Duncan asked innocently.
"Who knows," Laderoc grunted, picking up his scrubbing again. "I'm just in it for the money. If Jack wasn't so good, I'd be gone."
"Jack hasn't been with us on a single raid," Kursab pointed out.
Laderoc looked at him. "You know, you're right about that. Still, their ain't no good in mutiny. You saw how much he tried to get his ship back, and that was against Barbossa. He'll annihilate me."
The men continued chatting aimlessly, doing their usual maintenance.
…
Barbossa never saw the other ship. He never looked out that way and his crew didn't tell him for fear of being killed. And so, the mystery ship continued to pace The Opal's Revenge, The Poison Dragon, and The Black Pearl. Nick had completely forgotten about the other ship and so the captain remained less than blissfully uninformed.
He continued to watch the Pearl as she sailed towards her destination. Barbossa knew by now where Jack was headed. He was sailing towards Europe, pulling them out of the Caribbean. The clear green waters faded little by little into the deep blue of the Atlantic. The air grew colder as well, though it was still summer. August was the month and the heat was steadily leaving them as they traveled.
Barbossa was angry. Jack pulled a length or two ahead of them each day. The Pearl's crew must have been extremely tired, rowing all the while. Barbossa knew they'd soon grow too tired to do any more, and then he'd have them. It was only a matter of time.
Nick stood beside Barbossa, his long brown hair pulled back and tied with a grey bit of fabric.
They stared on into the distance, barley discerning the dark spires of the Pearl's masts from the dark skyline.
…
Jack was standing completely stoic at the helm, ignoring everyone and everything, steering his ship, his baby so to speak. He did not want to lose this ship to Barbossa or to anyone ever again and that's exactly what would happen if he let them catch up.
There was a noise of feet on the deck but he didn't turn around. He almost shouted when two hands came around and covered his eyes.
They were soft hands, not the rough palms of the men on board and they barely covered the width of his face. Plus, whoever it was behind him was ... lacking in height and endowed in ... well, he could feel a certain part of the female anatomy pressing into his back as the person behind him stood on tiptoe to cover his eyes.
He grabbed the hands around the wrists and felt the sleeves of his own coat. He turned around and pulled Scarlette up to him.
After hugging her tightly against his chest, he put his hands on her shoulders and held her at arms length. "Why are you here, luv?"
She smiled at him mysteriously again. "Why did you send me back? I wasn't dying, Jack. Remember that vest you puzzled over that night I returned? Well, it's actually bulletproof. I tried to tell you but you wouldn't lis—" he put a finger to her lips.
"I don't want you here now. It's too dangerous, luv."
"Jack," she told him pointedly. "I will not go back to that time. I can't. If you make me go back, I swear Jack, you'll regret it."
"And I swear equally that if I let you stay here, I'll regret it," he told her. "I don't want to lose you to Barbossa or anyone for that matter, even if that means I have to send you away."
"Holy Badger! It's Johnny Depp!"
Scarlette and Jack turned their heads to find Sean and a limp Tony (again). The girls were standing normally, already having seen the show.
"These two boys gave me lodgings while I was stuck in the future," she explained. "The dead one's name is Tony, the orange one's name is Stupid, or at least, that's how he was introduced to me."
Jack looked at them and then at Heather. "You owe me a pair of pants, luv." Heather started laughing again and Scarlette looked at Jack charily. He caught the look and smiled hesitantly. "I realize that didn't sound very good. I'll explain later. Stupid, take your friend Tony down below. Find Bootstrap and tell him I want you to be shown the ropes, savvy?"
Sean just nodded in shock, Heather tapping him and motioning for him to follow, dragging Tony along.
Jack and Scarlette stood in silence for a while, the tension between them a very tangible thing. The crew could feel it as well, giving both wide berths. She turned and watched him, his profile very beautiful, his pointed nose at a very straight angle, his long eyelashes casting black shadows over his deep brown eyes. He consulted the compass and she noticed that the needle was pointing backwards, south, southwest, well off north.
A hand touched his right shoulder and they both turned to find Anamaria, come to relieve him. She knew where they were going and was happy to steer the Pearl. Jack nodded to her and looked at Scarlette she looked back to Anamaria before she followed him.
She trailed after him down the stairs and entered the cabin, sitting comfortably with him at the table. He nodded curtly and poured a chalice full of rum, handing it off to her. She sipped it and watched him carefully.
He was watching her with the same calculated glance, mirroring each other's movements.
"Have you made your decision yet?" he asked her suddenly. She looked at him and her eyes narrowed.
"Maybe," she said. "Not that I'm going to tell you yet. I have a question, though. What was it you said—"
"Barbossa has been tailing us for four days," Jack interrupted. "Followed by the Dragon and another ship that seems to have been pacing us. What happened with Mei Lin?"
"She betrayed us," Scarlette answered. "She started telling him about you being still alive so I turned her around. She spoke to me in Japanese and I told Barbossa that she was betraying him. She tried arguing but I shot her. He believed me even after I did it and gave me the chance to become his partner."
"Captain Sparrow, eh?" Jack said. "We got that something had happened thanks to Barton but we didn't know exactly what."
Scarlette was vaguely aware that somewhere she'd been turned around. She began to ask him a question but he interrupted her again. "Barbossa's going to be very surprised when he sees both of us again," Jack told her. "He thinks you're dead."
She smiled up at Jack. "He kept saying that you and I were so much alike that he was frightened."
Jack smiled, flashing a bit of gold. "I have to say I agree with him for once."
Scarlette stood and moved over to Jack's seat, putting her hands on his shoulders, refusing to be distracted again. "Tell me what you said right before you sent me back."
"What?" he asked. "I don't know what you're going on about, luv."
"You know exactly what I'm talking about. I can tell by your face."
Jack's eyes grew wide and he gave a nervous smile. "I didn't say anything really, I mean ... I uh ... I need to have a bit more to drink before I repeat myself."
"No," she said, taking away the rum bottle. "You weren't that drunk when you said it. Tell me, dammit."
Jack stood suddenly, towering over her. He stepped towards her and she backed up, slightly afraid of the man before her. His face was completely serious and she wasn't sure if this was a good thing or not. He put his hand on her shoulders and gave her his eyes.
"Do you realize we are sailing into a battle?" he asked her. "Right now we are being followed by not two ships, but three. There is a French privateer stalking our little parade. I am taking us directly into European waters on purpose."
"Jack!" she exclaimed. "They're going to trap us! That privateer won't be the last! What about the English navy? We're in the middle of the Seven Years War! Norrington has no power outside Port Royal, nor in Spain or France! Portugal will be on the side of the Brits yes, but we're pirates! The Pearl is a wanted ship!"
Jack put a finger over her mouth. "I know. I'm counting on Barbossa for our escape."
She gave him a preposterous glance. "What are you talking about?"
He smiled and whispered the plan, the ingenious, well, not really, but workable plan.
"I got it from that privateer," he added. "I'm not saying it's foolproof but it's better than anything he can think of, I assure you. We sail to the continent."
"Ah, not to England," she agreed. "That would be fatal."
"Aye," he smiled, having once again distracted her from her question.
She yawned and shed the coat, pulling off her numerous sheaths and such, piling them on the table. He noticed that the guns had been replaced, as had the knife she'd lost. Her studded belt came off and she stretched, moving towards the bed. She hadn't really slept well in days, being stuck at the nerds' house.
She sat on the bed and Jack followed, never one to pass up an opportune moment, but she pushed him away.
"Jack, I need to sleep, plus, you never answered my question." She could tell by his face that he'd thought she'd forgotten it.
"Oh, it's not that important," he told her, lying beside her. "It was nothing at all, really."
"I hate it when people do that!" she exclaimed, standing up and facing away from him, her arms crossed
"Do what?" he asked, sitting up, his legs dangling off the edge of the bed. "You're angry again. Do what?" He moved up and touched her shoulder. She whirled around and fixed an angry eye on him.
"Say something and when someone doesn't hear quite everything, refuse to repeat it!"
"Oh? I repeated it twice, luv," Jack said. "It's your fault if you didn't pick it up. Besides, any time you mention something from your future place that we don't quite understand, you say 'nevermind'. Like this Seven Years War … I bet we won't be calling it that until it's well and truly over."
"Oh, I could kill you sometimes!" she exclaimed, putting her hands around his throat. He smiled at her and allowed her to 'choke' him. She wasn't really hurting him, He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her up against him, surprising her.
"Oh, no," she said, pushing away from him. "Not until you tell me what you said."
Jack grinned. "And who's to stop me, luv?"
She gave him a look and he backed off. "Sorry, sorry. I know, you'll roast me for dinner. I'll behave meself."
"Yeah," Scarlette laughed. "You'd better." She returned to the bed and fell asleep within a few minutes. Once she was out, Jack slid in beside her, as usual and thought about whether she would kill him in the morning or not. He decided that she would probably be fine with it and decided to risk his life yet again. Sleeping with the lions was a good way to end up dead, but only if you were prey.
…
Robin, Lizzy, Elizabeth, Claudia, and Diana landed in the fountain of Embassy Suites in downtown Downey. The security guards didn't know what was going on and the soaked girls were led outside where they were released grudgingly. None of the blood had survived the water, just as Barton had intended.
"Great," Claudia growled. "Now what do we do?"
Lizzy scowled. "Like I know? It's late, though. Look. The moon's already out. My watch is screwed up from the travel."
"Oye, it's you!" a male voice exclaimed. The girls turned to find a pirate standing under the shade of a tree.
"What the—" Diana exclaimed. Then she looked down at herself. Her flesh melted away, her clothing tattered. She looked back up and the pirate stepped forward, the light of the moon painted his real colors. He was a cursed one, just like Diana. Until that point, in the future, Diana's curse hadn't been a factor. Now, with another cursed being before her, her form mirrored his.
"Where did you come from?" Robin asked.
"He must have been one of the ones Barton sent away during the fight," Claudia piped up. "He's still here?"
The pirate lunged out at them without further warning and Diana met him, bringing out her sword. She was certainly not a fighter. They grappled for a while, Diana being the only one who really stood a chance, being immortal.
"Run!" she told the others. "I'll hold him as long as I can! Go ... go to Anita's house or something!"
"It's too far," Robin shouted. "Where else can we go?"
"Not my house," Lizzy exclaimed. "My parents won't let us stay there."
"What about Ryo's old house?" Claudia suggested. "There's no one living there now."
"What's going on here?" Elizabeth cried, clinging to Robin's arm.
The future girls grabbed Elizabeth and scurried towards Scarlette's old dwelling, running in fear, the bright lights of the cars sending them reeling.
…
Scarlette stirred in her sleep and felt him next to her. As always, her movements encouraged him. She found herself pulled tightly against him, her face under his chin, her cheek against the pulsing warmth of his throat.
She blinked awake, forgetting where she was for a moment. A loud noise ripped through the air and the Pearl shuddered. She sat up suddenly, Jack moving with her. They both jumped from the bed and slipped into their boots. There was no time for anything but the necessities and soon they were both outside the cabin, running along the deck. Jack climbed up the rigging and glanced around. There was fog all around and Jack couldn't see a thing. Scarlette was leaning over the railing near the two future boys, both of which were drunk again, and was squinting out into the white mists.
A flash in the opaque canvas of miasma drew their attention to the ship it faintly outlined for a split second. It wasn't the Frenchman, but another ship. It was firing on them.
"Dutchman to the portside, leeward!" Gibbs was shouting. "Two masts, Corvette. 20, maybe 30 guns."
Bootstrap's eyes widened and he looked out to sea, his heart in his throat. He spotted the ship and sighed, putting a hand to his sternum to calm himself.
"All free hands on the main brace, portside, rowers stay to duty," Jack bellowed. "She's only firing ranging shots. Don't shoot unless she draws closer!"
He rushed to the helm and Scarlette followed. She stood with him as he threw the wheel in the direction he wished, the ship taking a slightly different path, heading more to starboard.
The Dutch ship fired again, narrowly missing the Pearl's hull. The water splashed up and hit a few rigging boys in the face.
Another blast of cannons, though not from the Dutchman. These cannons were fired at the Dutch flyer, though the owner of these shots was invisible at the moment.
(This is NOT The Flying Dutchman, folks. This is a Dutch ship, as in from Holland.)
Jack scanned the foggy landscape, or waterscape if you will, for ships but after the Dutchman ceased to fire, there weren't any other surprises. Barton and Bell were under wraps, even though the sun didn't seem to filter through to this secluded scene of smog.
She moved up beside him and looked up at him, her eyes large. The unspoken fear of the hidden enemies around them was reflected in her eyes, made brighter by the white background surrounding them.
He gave her a slight smile, a tiny condolence in the land of fog and mist, something to hold one over. It was terrifying, moving through the almost tangible water drops, as if they were sailing through cotton wisps, or spun sugar.
Jack pulled out his spyglass to survey the area and almost choked on what he saw to his port side. He swallowed, Scarlette giving him a suspicious look. He ignored her and rubbed the lens of his spyglass, rubbing his eyes as well. He brought it back up to his face and breathed in shortly, scrutinizing the objects he saw through the spyglass.
"We may be in over our heads this time, luv," he whispered to her.
…
OPTIONS SUBTITLES ENGLISH
The captaine snapped his spyglass shut and spoke to his first mate. "It is a three masted ship, no colors, the sails black. What do you know about it?"
His first mate shrugged. "Sorry, sir. I do not know much but given your description, the only ship I can think of would be The Black Pearl."
The captaine gave him a stare. "Do not speak of that ship, man. It is bad luck to be speaking of cursed ships with us mired in this fog. What was that fire earlier on?"
"A Dutchman was off to them, sir," the man answered. "One of ours took it down. What about the black sailed ship sir?"
"We will let her sail a bit longer," the captaine answered. "We don't yet know what she is. She is moving incredibly fast, however. Guillame said he had paced them for days only by dumping out their liberties. There are two ships following that ship, both with English flags, the second with an Eastern brand as well."
"What are we to do?"
"We do not know if the black ship is running from them or leading them. Once they reach port, I suppose we will find out."
"Aye, captaine," the man said. "What is the order until further notice?"
The captaine glanced at his first mate. "Wait for her to strike her colors, or for an attack. If the ones behind her attack the black ship, we will know for sure. With her speed, we dare not attack the English ships if she is with them."
"Aye, captaine," the man said.
OPTIONS SUBTITLES NONE
…
Robin, Lizzy, and Elizabeth were sitting in Lizzy's house the day after, Elizabeth very uncomfortable in modern clothing. She was still wearing her corset because, one; there weren't any bras in the house that fit her, two; it was the only thing that could be worn and not draw attention to her.
She was wearing one of Robin's 'Yamo' shirts and Lizzy's slacks, two white lines running down the legs. Her hair was pulled back simply with one scrunchy and purple socks with a little green dog on them that shouted "Tacos!"
Robin was searching for something on the computer, not sure what. She'd had a feeling about something and had to check, just to make sure.
"1759, 1759, where is it?" she exclaimed. "I know it's here, dammit! Ah ha!" She pointed emphatically at the screen, scrolling down a bit. "I knew this was here! I remember it when I was looking for pictures." She scanned and read aloud. "Privateers; ships that were given 'Letters of Marque' which enabled them to shoot down any ship bearing an enemy flag. Barbossa has been flying the privateer's flag! The navy won't touch him! They think he's a privateer, and as for the Dragon, did you notice it had one as well? No matter how many English ships catch sight of them, they won't fire unless the 'roger' is being flown!"
"I could have told you that," Elizabeth commented, sipping her drink. "What's this called again? It's superb!"
"Frappuccino," Lizzy told her. "Vanilla, of course."
"Well, Mrs. Smarty Pants," Robin said sarcastically. "Did it occur to you that they're sailing into hell? As soon as they get in English waters, they'll be bombarded!"
"Who says they have to go that way?" Lizzy pointed out. "They could be rounding the states."
"They're headed for Europe, I tell you," Robin told them. "There's nowhere else to go in that direction unless they're just doing it to avoiding currents."
"We don't know that for sure," Lizzy told her. "Besides, this is the years of the Hanover kings. It's between George II and III … which means the French and Indian war. Those waters will be thick with the French as well as English, and they will fire on British privateers."
"Whatever," Robin said, standing from the console. She disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a banana. "It doesn't look too good, if you ask me. I don't want to be pessimistic, but how are they going to get out of it?"
« Je ne sais pas, » Lizzy said in French, shrugging.
…
Dante was pacing the deck. He'd tried now several times to tell Barbossa how much of a madman Tavington was but the damn vamp wouldn't listen. Tavington had clawed a hole in one of the cabin walls with his bare hands, all the while whispering something repeatedly. Dante never tried to get close enough to hear what Tavington was saying. He had been terrified out of his wits.
The most frightening thing was Tavington was asleep as these things were going on. When he was awake, he was devoid of this madness, except for certain instances where his eyes darted perilously close to insanity and his movements quickened to the point of twitching.
Dante wanted to be rid of Tavington but he wasn't sure how to do it without getting him killed. He had been very angry at the news of Mei Lin's death and blamed himself partly for it. He was waiting for night to fall so he might speak to Barbossa. They had almost lost the Pearl several times in the fog, finding her again when the Dutch ship began firing but loosing her once the Dutch had been subdued.
Dante had seen the mystery ship only once, recognizing the French flag but missing the significance. He just assumed it was another ship they'd get around to attacking later.
"Come on, night. Hurry up and come. I can't stand this anymore!" Dante continued pacing, the sea coming up to spray his face momentarily as he traced his worried path about the planks of the ship. He wiped the salt water from his eyes and glanced out to sea again, catching sight of a black stern, vanishing once again into the miasma.
"Damn, Jack," Dante hissed. "And damn his woman, too."
…
Jack gave one last glance through his scope. It was too misty to be sure. He couldn't tell what he was looking at. He was bout to move fore to bow to get a better look when Scarlette grabbed his arm. "What's wrong?"
She sounded so stern he turned to look at her. She'd been watching him carefully as he scrutinized the image through his spyglass and had waited patiently for him to enlighten her.
"Three, maybe more," he told her. "Man o' War."
She looked slightly confused. "The big ones, eh?"
Jack just looked at her with his dark eyes and she shivered. "We're screwed aren't we?"
He turned back to the ships, looking through the glass. "At least five now. No flags present. We'll need to rely on our speed."
"Jack," she began. "How close are we?" She moved up to stand beside him, squinting into the mist.
He handed the spyglass to her. "Nowhere near to where we need to be." She looked into it, moving it until she saw the figurehead of one of the great ships. There were five in sight and the shadows of more masts stood in the background, silent giants, standing sentry over the lonely decks.
She shivered again, trying not to let her fear show. She bit her lip in concentration, letting him slide the scope out of her hands, which she was trying desperately to keep from shaking.
Jack noticed this but didn't mention it. If he tried to send her away, she might just be stubborn enough to do something, like fight, which he adamantly was opposed to her doing. They most likely wouldn't get the chance to do any fighting up against the monsters in front of them. They would be sunk before the other crew could board.
Jack glanced at Scarlette and back at the invisible ships all around them and decided what he wanted to do. Fighting the giants was futile, but he could always pick on someone his own size.
He touched the worn wood of the helm, rubbing one rough hand over the notches and nicks in the timber. He looked up, his gaze out to sea and Scarlette shivered again. It was the look of a desperate Jack, someone she didn't know very well. He shouted an order and turned the helm hard to port. The Pearl began to revolve.
He looked over at Scarlette and nodded, holding out his left hand. She came forward and grabbed it in both hers.
"Well, luv," he said to her, meeting her eyes. "This may be it for us, you know."
She just stared up at him. "There must be some way."
"Must there?" he asked. "Not all problems are solvable. We may be gobbled up by those ships there, but I want to take ol' Barbie down with me, savvy?"
She smiled, a mirror of her usual grin. "Definitely, but first ... what was it you said before you sent me back? Come on, Jack. Tell me, please."
He looked down at her. "Not a good idea, luv."
"Come on! We might die in a matter of minutes and you're still holding out on me."
"If we live through this," he told her. "I swear on pain of death, I'll repeat what I said to your bonny ears as much as you want, savvy?"
She held out her right hand. "Fair enough, I suppose." He took her hand in his right, the leather of his palm rag, sliding across hers as they shook on it.
They both stared ahead towards the direction Barbossa had last been glimpsed, their eyes almost identical in expression.
"They could be French, you know," she whispered.
"There's no way to tell if they're the same ships," Jack answered. "They're big. England has the largest naval force seen in years. If we open fire on Barbossa with his privateer flag, they'll chew us to bits."
"But they could be French," she insisted. "If English ships that big had come up on those frogs we saw earlier, then we would have heard something. If they were English, they would have fired on us already. This is a known ship."
Jack squeezed her hand. "I have to be sure, luv."
She looked at him stubbornly. "You know the British win the Seven Years War, right?"
"Why am I not surprised?" Jack replied shaking his head.
…
Yikes. Kinda suspenseful. Like I've been telling people around, the blanket category for this fic is Action/Adventure but there is a splashing of everything else, humor, romance, drama, suspense, mystery, etc ... Jack (not the pirate, card, skeleton, pumpkin, car tool, monkey, knife, rabbit or child's toy) of all trades, master of none. Sounds like the author. Page count. Ladies and Gentlemen, with the last two additions, we are at ... 417, with glossary ... 434. The names of the crew members are what appear on the credits. My made up crew for Jack consists of Armstrong, Stevenson, Nathaniel, Schaeffer and Dobereiner. There were two others that died. Finished at 1:34 AM on Orlando Bloom's birthday. Happy 27, Elf Boy. (he's 27 right? 1-13-04)
Revisited 1-20-07 No, now he's 30 … it's been a long time. Pg count 607