A/N: Thnx for the reviews! And Liz, good guess ~_^ - but hey, that's just
Jack :D
Chapter Nine The Search-Operation For The Rum
After an hour searching (and molesting Will's house), Jack still hadn't find any rum.
'Bloody hell,' he muttered to himself. 'Will's gotta have some rum . . . I know he likes it . . . Now where he be hidin' it?'
Jack thought for a moment, screwing his eyes in concentration.
Suddenly his face cracked into a relieved smile.
Ofcourse! The cellar!
There was a small door in the corridor, and Jack tried to open it.
Damn. Locked.
He sighed angrily.
Of course, *sweet* Elizabeth had locked it. What kind of cruel woman Will was married to?!
But, he thought, feeling better again, that *did* mean there was any rum down there.
Or at least something containing alcohol.
He tried to beat the door in, using his body as a battering-ram.
Alas, the door was stronger than Jack thought, and the fourth time his head made a rather painful connection with it.
He fell to the ground, dazed.
'No, no good,' he mumbled, standing up again, shaking his head.
What could he do?!
He could find himself an axe, of course. But he had a shrewd suspicion Will and Elizabeth might not like that.
So, the other option was finding the key.
But *where* ?!
Suddenly, Jack got an idea.
~
'Good thingy. Now where's the key? Tell Mister Sparrow, luv.'
Charlotte looked at him innocently with her huge green eyes and began to giggle.
'Yer laughin' at me again!' Jack said crossly.
Charlotte didn't hear this, she was just laughing louder and louder, and finally she grope for Jack's beard-braids.
'Hey! Hands off me beard, little - thingy!'
She went silent, but when she had studied Jack long enough her lips curled into a huge grin again.
Jack buried his head in his hands. This wasn't going to work.
He had asked Charthingy about the key ten times already, but she just *refused* to answer.
'Yer just as mean as yer mother, ye know that?! Fat li'l cherub,' he called, angrily.
Scared by the sound of his voice now, Charlotte stopped laughing.
Her eyes became twice as big and filled themselves with tears.
She began to cry, not sobbing silently as Jack had seen with women before, but loud cries, smearing her whole face with tears.
Jack suddenly felt odd.
Was it - could it possibly be - guilt?
He thought about this for a moment.
. . .
Nah. Not because of a sodding baby.
Although . . .
He took Charthingy out of her cradle and held her clumsily.
'Alright, luv, I'm sorry. Shouldn'ta said that. Yer not a fat li'l cherub. Yer just as pretty and bloody shexy as yer mommy.'
But she continued to cry, causing Jack to raise his eyebrows.
She did this on purpose! She just *made* him feel guilty!
'Oh, and yer not mean! Yer cute and sweet and the nicest baby I seen in me life!'
'Not that I ever seen one before,' he thought 'but that doesn't matter now.'
However, Charthingy seemed to know this, for she didn't quit the crying.
He closed his eyes, feeling *very* annoyed, and opened them again.
Roughly, he lifted her up so her face was within a few inches distance of him.
'Here!' he shouted, desperately.
'Look at me! Look at funny Mister Jack Sparrow!'
She did, and a big smile formed itself on her face.
Smirking satisfied, Jack put her back in her cradle again.
'Good thingy. Now, I suppose ye dunno where the key of the cellar is?'
Chapter Nine The Search-Operation For The Rum
After an hour searching (and molesting Will's house), Jack still hadn't find any rum.
'Bloody hell,' he muttered to himself. 'Will's gotta have some rum . . . I know he likes it . . . Now where he be hidin' it?'
Jack thought for a moment, screwing his eyes in concentration.
Suddenly his face cracked into a relieved smile.
Ofcourse! The cellar!
There was a small door in the corridor, and Jack tried to open it.
Damn. Locked.
He sighed angrily.
Of course, *sweet* Elizabeth had locked it. What kind of cruel woman Will was married to?!
But, he thought, feeling better again, that *did* mean there was any rum down there.
Or at least something containing alcohol.
He tried to beat the door in, using his body as a battering-ram.
Alas, the door was stronger than Jack thought, and the fourth time his head made a rather painful connection with it.
He fell to the ground, dazed.
'No, no good,' he mumbled, standing up again, shaking his head.
What could he do?!
He could find himself an axe, of course. But he had a shrewd suspicion Will and Elizabeth might not like that.
So, the other option was finding the key.
But *where* ?!
Suddenly, Jack got an idea.
~
'Good thingy. Now where's the key? Tell Mister Sparrow, luv.'
Charlotte looked at him innocently with her huge green eyes and began to giggle.
'Yer laughin' at me again!' Jack said crossly.
Charlotte didn't hear this, she was just laughing louder and louder, and finally she grope for Jack's beard-braids.
'Hey! Hands off me beard, little - thingy!'
She went silent, but when she had studied Jack long enough her lips curled into a huge grin again.
Jack buried his head in his hands. This wasn't going to work.
He had asked Charthingy about the key ten times already, but she just *refused* to answer.
'Yer just as mean as yer mother, ye know that?! Fat li'l cherub,' he called, angrily.
Scared by the sound of his voice now, Charlotte stopped laughing.
Her eyes became twice as big and filled themselves with tears.
She began to cry, not sobbing silently as Jack had seen with women before, but loud cries, smearing her whole face with tears.
Jack suddenly felt odd.
Was it - could it possibly be - guilt?
He thought about this for a moment.
. . .
Nah. Not because of a sodding baby.
Although . . .
He took Charthingy out of her cradle and held her clumsily.
'Alright, luv, I'm sorry. Shouldn'ta said that. Yer not a fat li'l cherub. Yer just as pretty and bloody shexy as yer mommy.'
But she continued to cry, causing Jack to raise his eyebrows.
She did this on purpose! She just *made* him feel guilty!
'Oh, and yer not mean! Yer cute and sweet and the nicest baby I seen in me life!'
'Not that I ever seen one before,' he thought 'but that doesn't matter now.'
However, Charthingy seemed to know this, for she didn't quit the crying.
He closed his eyes, feeling *very* annoyed, and opened them again.
Roughly, he lifted her up so her face was within a few inches distance of him.
'Here!' he shouted, desperately.
'Look at me! Look at funny Mister Jack Sparrow!'
She did, and a big smile formed itself on her face.
Smirking satisfied, Jack put her back in her cradle again.
'Good thingy. Now, I suppose ye dunno where the key of the cellar is?'