A black-sailed ship bobbed slowly in the calm, untrafficked waters of the
pristine slopes of Barbados. Sailors fairly lolled about, some engaging in
a below-deck game of poker while others sprawled about on deck. A dark-
haired Spanish-looking woman was perched nimbly in the rigging, her slender
(and mostly bare) limbs entwined in the grimy, use-worn ropes.
A man snaked his way up to stand beside her, one arm grasping the cordage and the other outstretched, holding a miniature telescope which he put one dark eye to. Stowing it away some random pocket, he turned to the woman.
"Well, Ana Maria?" he asked. "No sign of Mr. Cotton, then?"
Ana Maria frowned viciously, shading her dirty face from the sun. "None, Jack. I've been up here for an hour yet, and that crazy old man hasn't shown his face."
"Captain," Jack reminded her amiably, adjusting his red headband absently. "Oh hell, that old guy is too blind to check the sky for the time. He'll be back soon, savvy? "
Ana Maria rolled her eyes. "Let's hope, Captain. Honestly, you're becoming the worst authority figure I ever knew -"
"Oh aye?" The captain pulled his mouth down inquisitively, glancing sideways at her out of kohl-lined eyes.
"Ayeh," retorted the only female crew member of the Black Pearl, "You strut out among us common crewfolk all of the time -"
Jack snorted. "Yeh, and I'm some high-nosed pompous aristocrat captain, is that your point?"
"You constantly waltz around and help random crew cheat at cards," continued Ana Maria.
"Well, it's no fun if you don't cheat," Jack pointed out, looking surprised at Ana Maria's sudden do-good attitude.
"Aye," agreed Ana Maria, with a thin smile. "But now you're trying to tell the future! Why would you do that?"
"Why not?" asked Jack, taken aback.
"Only a crazed captain would do that sort of thing," concluded Ana Maria.
Jack raised an eyebrow. "And only a crazy crew member would accuse their captain of such a thing." He leaned forward, almost mock-threateningly - and suddenly a thin silver blade appeared in his hand. He carefully, almost lovingly traced lightly around Ana Maria's face, eyes treacherously innocent, maliciously inquisitive. The blade came to a standstill at her temple. "Are you accusing me?" he asked quietly.
Ana Maria gazed evenly at him, no trace of fear crossing her features. "Would you kill me if I was?" she rejoined calmly.
The blade quivered as though it had a life of its own. "You can answer that one, love," responded Jack sarcastically.
Ana Maria probed with deep brown eyes the depths of her captain's own dark eyes. Suddenly, she jerked backwards in the rigging, causing the careful cordage to sway. Neither of the pair noticed it. "You are so melodramatic," she laughed, an oddly playful expression crossing her face.
Jack nodded in seemingly careless agreement, cocking a dark eyebrow. "Ana Maria, sometimes I think that you're far too smart for your own good."
"And for a woman?" inquired the female crewmember roguishly.
"You're no tavern wench, that's for sure," noted Captain Jack Sparrow innocently.
Ana Maria scowled mock-fiercely and was about to say something else, when another crewman clambered up the rigging next to them.
"Sorry t'interrupt ye lovebirds," he said, much to the annoyance of Ana Maria and the amusement of the captain; "But I thought ye'd like ta know that Mr. Cotton's back, just down yonder hillside a wee bit. Shall I go and fetch 'im?"
"What'd I tell you?" Jack addressed Ana Maria with a faint smirk. "And yes, that would be just savvy, Nicholson."
The crewman clambered down the ropes and strutted down the gangplank with an air reminiscent of his captain's. He arrived back with Mr. Cotton and the parrot in practically no time at all - Mr. Cotton seemed to be toting some kind of large bundle.
"Aye, Mr. Cotton," said Captain Jack Sparrow jovially, leaping off the rigging to stand with arched brows on the deck. "What've ye got there, eh?"
"Girl," grunted Nicholson, looking none too happy about it. He had reason, too.
"Bloody hell, Mr. Cotton!" snarled Jack, mood changing faster than a sea wind. He whirled on the heels of his boots and stalked up to the mute old man. "God knows you've no tongue, but I never thought your wits were addled until now! A bloody girl? What're we going t'do about this lot, eh Mr. Cotton? This is a fine right mess we're in, no doubt about it."
"Reef the sails, a southern wind coming in!" squawked Mr. Cotton's parrot.
"You could send her back to where she came from," suggested Ana Maria sensibly. She'd followed Jack down and was watching from where she was standing by Nicholson.
"Oh aye," growled Jack. "Mr. Cotton, where did you find this girl?"
Obviously there was no reply.
Ana Maria stepped in. "Was it by the docks?"
The old man nodded.
"Not the rich section, but our sort of section, right?" prodded Ana Maria. Again, the man nodded.
"Could you take her back?" Another nod.
Nicholson stepped in then. "Although they could be looking for her by now, and if Mr. Cotton is seen carrying her back, they could trace him back here." He paused and all three of them turned to look at the mute old man.
"Could happen," mused Ana Maria. "Old Cotton isn't the most subtle."
Again all three turned to look at Mr. Cotton who was staring down at the girl on the ship's deck, where he had set her carefully at the beginning of the conversation. She was very awake now, much to all three's consternation, and stared back up at them with wide, terrified hazel eyes. Her gaze traveled up and down them, then up and around the ship.
"Why you're pirates!" she gasped, clutching the folds of her tawny gown. "This is the ship with black sails, and you are the escaped fugitive that they're looking for!" she added, staring straight at Jack.
"Aye, hello," said Ana Maria, leaning down and allowing her hand to connect squarely with the side of the girl's head. The girl dropped like a stone for the second time that day.
Nicholson stared. "I can't believe it," he said bitterly. "Awake for half a minute and she already knows too much. I don't think that we could drown her with stones?"
Jack gave a short, hopeless laugh. "Well, I suppose it's up to Mr. Cotton to decide the girl's fate then, eh?"
The old man hesitated for a minute, then pointed at the girl and then at Jack. He had to do this several times before they got the message.
"An offering," declared Ana Maria. "She's all yours, Captain Sparrow."
Jack did not look too pleased with this - the color was draining slowly out of his face and his kohl-lined eyes were positively blazing. For a minute he just stood there, glaring down at the fortunately (for her) unconscious girl, then at long last stormed off, dragging the girl behind him to his cabin.
"Nice going, Mr. Cotton," said Ana Maria icily, "now we have ourselves one very angry captain and one very unfortunate prisoner. Honestly, I -"
"I absolutely agree," agreed Nicholson ferociously, if not a bit redundantly. "Really, Mr. Cotton. One'd think you'd have more sense -"
"Reef the sails, a southern gale coming in!" shrieked the parrot.
Mr. Cotton blinked, finding himself alone on the ship deck. He shrugged. The youths must have gone down below - this didn't really bother him. He couldn't for the life of him figure out why they had been so angry.
A man snaked his way up to stand beside her, one arm grasping the cordage and the other outstretched, holding a miniature telescope which he put one dark eye to. Stowing it away some random pocket, he turned to the woman.
"Well, Ana Maria?" he asked. "No sign of Mr. Cotton, then?"
Ana Maria frowned viciously, shading her dirty face from the sun. "None, Jack. I've been up here for an hour yet, and that crazy old man hasn't shown his face."
"Captain," Jack reminded her amiably, adjusting his red headband absently. "Oh hell, that old guy is too blind to check the sky for the time. He'll be back soon, savvy? "
Ana Maria rolled her eyes. "Let's hope, Captain. Honestly, you're becoming the worst authority figure I ever knew -"
"Oh aye?" The captain pulled his mouth down inquisitively, glancing sideways at her out of kohl-lined eyes.
"Ayeh," retorted the only female crew member of the Black Pearl, "You strut out among us common crewfolk all of the time -"
Jack snorted. "Yeh, and I'm some high-nosed pompous aristocrat captain, is that your point?"
"You constantly waltz around and help random crew cheat at cards," continued Ana Maria.
"Well, it's no fun if you don't cheat," Jack pointed out, looking surprised at Ana Maria's sudden do-good attitude.
"Aye," agreed Ana Maria, with a thin smile. "But now you're trying to tell the future! Why would you do that?"
"Why not?" asked Jack, taken aback.
"Only a crazed captain would do that sort of thing," concluded Ana Maria.
Jack raised an eyebrow. "And only a crazy crew member would accuse their captain of such a thing." He leaned forward, almost mock-threateningly - and suddenly a thin silver blade appeared in his hand. He carefully, almost lovingly traced lightly around Ana Maria's face, eyes treacherously innocent, maliciously inquisitive. The blade came to a standstill at her temple. "Are you accusing me?" he asked quietly.
Ana Maria gazed evenly at him, no trace of fear crossing her features. "Would you kill me if I was?" she rejoined calmly.
The blade quivered as though it had a life of its own. "You can answer that one, love," responded Jack sarcastically.
Ana Maria probed with deep brown eyes the depths of her captain's own dark eyes. Suddenly, she jerked backwards in the rigging, causing the careful cordage to sway. Neither of the pair noticed it. "You are so melodramatic," she laughed, an oddly playful expression crossing her face.
Jack nodded in seemingly careless agreement, cocking a dark eyebrow. "Ana Maria, sometimes I think that you're far too smart for your own good."
"And for a woman?" inquired the female crewmember roguishly.
"You're no tavern wench, that's for sure," noted Captain Jack Sparrow innocently.
Ana Maria scowled mock-fiercely and was about to say something else, when another crewman clambered up the rigging next to them.
"Sorry t'interrupt ye lovebirds," he said, much to the annoyance of Ana Maria and the amusement of the captain; "But I thought ye'd like ta know that Mr. Cotton's back, just down yonder hillside a wee bit. Shall I go and fetch 'im?"
"What'd I tell you?" Jack addressed Ana Maria with a faint smirk. "And yes, that would be just savvy, Nicholson."
The crewman clambered down the ropes and strutted down the gangplank with an air reminiscent of his captain's. He arrived back with Mr. Cotton and the parrot in practically no time at all - Mr. Cotton seemed to be toting some kind of large bundle.
"Aye, Mr. Cotton," said Captain Jack Sparrow jovially, leaping off the rigging to stand with arched brows on the deck. "What've ye got there, eh?"
"Girl," grunted Nicholson, looking none too happy about it. He had reason, too.
"Bloody hell, Mr. Cotton!" snarled Jack, mood changing faster than a sea wind. He whirled on the heels of his boots and stalked up to the mute old man. "God knows you've no tongue, but I never thought your wits were addled until now! A bloody girl? What're we going t'do about this lot, eh Mr. Cotton? This is a fine right mess we're in, no doubt about it."
"Reef the sails, a southern wind coming in!" squawked Mr. Cotton's parrot.
"You could send her back to where she came from," suggested Ana Maria sensibly. She'd followed Jack down and was watching from where she was standing by Nicholson.
"Oh aye," growled Jack. "Mr. Cotton, where did you find this girl?"
Obviously there was no reply.
Ana Maria stepped in. "Was it by the docks?"
The old man nodded.
"Not the rich section, but our sort of section, right?" prodded Ana Maria. Again, the man nodded.
"Could you take her back?" Another nod.
Nicholson stepped in then. "Although they could be looking for her by now, and if Mr. Cotton is seen carrying her back, they could trace him back here." He paused and all three of them turned to look at the mute old man.
"Could happen," mused Ana Maria. "Old Cotton isn't the most subtle."
Again all three turned to look at Mr. Cotton who was staring down at the girl on the ship's deck, where he had set her carefully at the beginning of the conversation. She was very awake now, much to all three's consternation, and stared back up at them with wide, terrified hazel eyes. Her gaze traveled up and down them, then up and around the ship.
"Why you're pirates!" she gasped, clutching the folds of her tawny gown. "This is the ship with black sails, and you are the escaped fugitive that they're looking for!" she added, staring straight at Jack.
"Aye, hello," said Ana Maria, leaning down and allowing her hand to connect squarely with the side of the girl's head. The girl dropped like a stone for the second time that day.
Nicholson stared. "I can't believe it," he said bitterly. "Awake for half a minute and she already knows too much. I don't think that we could drown her with stones?"
Jack gave a short, hopeless laugh. "Well, I suppose it's up to Mr. Cotton to decide the girl's fate then, eh?"
The old man hesitated for a minute, then pointed at the girl and then at Jack. He had to do this several times before they got the message.
"An offering," declared Ana Maria. "She's all yours, Captain Sparrow."
Jack did not look too pleased with this - the color was draining slowly out of his face and his kohl-lined eyes were positively blazing. For a minute he just stood there, glaring down at the fortunately (for her) unconscious girl, then at long last stormed off, dragging the girl behind him to his cabin.
"Nice going, Mr. Cotton," said Ana Maria icily, "now we have ourselves one very angry captain and one very unfortunate prisoner. Honestly, I -"
"I absolutely agree," agreed Nicholson ferociously, if not a bit redundantly. "Really, Mr. Cotton. One'd think you'd have more sense -"
"Reef the sails, a southern gale coming in!" shrieked the parrot.
Mr. Cotton blinked, finding himself alone on the ship deck. He shrugged. The youths must have gone down below - this didn't really bother him. He couldn't for the life of him figure out why they had been so angry.