A Corset for a Cutlass
Disclaimer: I called Disney, they said "no." Pretty please with sugar and cherries on top? "No." I even sent them flowers... "no." So a certain captain *ahem* that I find a very amusing character to write about, does not belong to me... Jack, it doesn't have to be this way! *sob...*
A/N: Anne Bonny is a real historical figure. A real pirate, that is. If you want to find out more about her, go to www.piratesinfo.com. There's two interesting articles, though the one with the, er, more intriguing name I find to give better information. I admire a woman who can stand up for herself in a world of men, and that's partly the reason why I'm writing this fic... The other part is because Jack Sparrow's just so darn cool! *Jack: Aww, thank you, love! See, no can resist me.* Right... I apologize before-hand for any out-of-character-ness. Here's mini Jack-hats (hey that rhymes) for everyone and some cyber popcorn. Bon appetite!
All lyrics used will have credit given to their original authors.
~*~*~*~*~*~*
Chapter One: Two Paths Cross
'My light shall be the moon
And my path- the ocean.
My guide the morning star
I sail home to you.'
--From "Exile"
Enya
"Watermark"
Captain Jack Sparrow swaggered down a wide cobblestone street in New Providence (A/N: Present-day Nassau) gazing lazily at the sky and walking off the remainder of his hangover from the heavy drinking the night before. In his opinion, there had been need to celebrate. He had once again slipped his way out from a certain death by the gallows, with much thanks to the Turner lad. Yes, when Jack saw Will again he would need to thank him; he was very much in the boy's debt. And, he thought, with a smile on his lips, he had escaped from right under the nose of that duff of a Commodore. Commo-BORE is more like it, he laughed to himself. But Will had Elizabeth now; she was all he ever needed, there'd be no pirating for that boy. Pity, though, as he would probably have the same ability as his father...
His unsteady walk was interrupted by the neighs of two horses as they reared suddenly in front of him, their deadly hooves inches from his face. He stumbled backwards and landed on the dusty street. The coach stopped just in front of the pirate, and the driver glared at Jack from under his hat.
"'Ey, you there! Watch where you're walking, you cad!" he exclaimed. Jack cocked his hat at the man from where he sat on the hard cobblestone ground. His attention was suddenly drawn to the elegant white door of the coach, which was opening. A brown buckled shoe came into view on the platform which wealthy people used to step in and out. Next an inch of white petticoat appeared before a light blue skirt slipped over it. Finally the person stepped all the way out of the coach onto the ground.
Jack felt his mouth dropping open as he swallowed a remark about snobbish old women in coaches, because the woman standing before him, a smirk plastered on her face and her hand resting on her hip, was definately not old. She was young, with a complexion like new cream and long-lashed eyes the color of the ocean water on a clear summer morning. Her dress matched her eyes, which were now studying him with mild curiosity.
"What are you doing down there, mate? The mean ol' horsies scare you?" she teased, with a slight Irish accent. Despite all her proper clothes and the way her light auburn hair was pinned and curled and weaved on the top of her head, Jack thought she seemed different than the wealthy girls he had encountered. Except, of course, for Elizabeth. Stupid git had to go and burn all the rum... He mentally shook himself, vanishing the memory.
"I was checking the state of the cobblestones. Quite a bit hard on me rump, actually," he finally said, getting up and rubbing at his bottom for emphasis. The girl's expression remained that of slight boredom, but her eyes narrowed in internal laughter. Ah, so she's got a soft spot for humor, that's good to know, Jack noted. The lady held out her hand and asked, "And who is this man I've had the pleasure to meet this morning?" Jack took the soft hand in his own and kissed it to his lips.
"Captain Jack Sparrow, at your service," he said, releasing it. She looked down the length of the land to the harbor, the sunight gleaming on the water, her eyes finally stopping at the only ship docked, some feet out from the coast: the Black Pearl. They widened, taking in the full magnificence of the ship.
"Aye, that's mine," Jack said. She started, not being aware that he had followed her gaze.
"That's quite a ship, Captain," she said. "Obviously to obtain such a fine vessel you would need hundreds of pounds of coin. You do not look like you have many shillings to spare." She glanced at his filthy pirate clothes. Oh, right, he thought, the lass is probably used to such finery and cleanliness as well-to-do folks can obtain. "So you either are wealthier than you look, or you stole it." He barely caught the last comment. She smiled, impressed by the fact that she had been right.
"Ah, who's the mysterious lass that questions the legality of my beautiful ship?" he asked. She curtsied unsteadily, pulling the heavy layers of fabric out from her body.
"My name is Anne. That's all you need to know."
"Anne, is it? Well, then I suppose if you aren't giving me your name you 'ave a very good reason not to, aye?" he replied. Her smile disappeared as she realized that he was playing at her own game.
"I have nothing to hide! Bonny, my last name's Bonny."
"Anne Bonny... The name sounds familiar," Jack said. She nodded and walked forward a step.
"Perhaps you've heard of how I stabbed my servant girl in the neck for mouthing off about my illegitimacy. Or how I punched out the two front teeth of the sister-in-law of the former governor of Jamaica?" Ah, now there's something interesting, thought Jack. No messing around with this girl.
"No, I haven't, but please, enlighten me," he said, gesturing with his hands for her to continue. She looked up at the driver's seat at the front of the carriage, surprised to find it empty. Apparently he had gone off looking for new mounts.
"When that fool McGuinness returns, I shall indeed take you somewhere more comfortable and tell you all you need to know, Captain Sparrow. For now, if that truly is your name, I'd like to hear more about you. There are more tales hanging around your name than there are Brits in Port Royal, and that's saying something," she said, leaning against the carriage and crossing her arms. Jack inhaled with pride, pleased to be able to once again brag about the severly overexaggerated stories of his doings. Seriously, sea turtles?!
"What would you like to know?" Anne's eyes narrowed and a smile played on her lips.
"Everything."
~*~*~*~*~*~*
A/N: Oooh, the suspense! Ha ha! Read on...
Disclaimer: I called Disney, they said "no." Pretty please with sugar and cherries on top? "No." I even sent them flowers... "no." So a certain captain *ahem* that I find a very amusing character to write about, does not belong to me... Jack, it doesn't have to be this way! *sob...*
A/N: Anne Bonny is a real historical figure. A real pirate, that is. If you want to find out more about her, go to www.piratesinfo.com. There's two interesting articles, though the one with the, er, more intriguing name I find to give better information. I admire a woman who can stand up for herself in a world of men, and that's partly the reason why I'm writing this fic... The other part is because Jack Sparrow's just so darn cool! *Jack: Aww, thank you, love! See, no can resist me.* Right... I apologize before-hand for any out-of-character-ness. Here's mini Jack-hats (hey that rhymes) for everyone and some cyber popcorn. Bon appetite!
All lyrics used will have credit given to their original authors.
~*~*~*~*~*~*
Chapter One: Two Paths Cross
'My light shall be the moon
And my path- the ocean.
My guide the morning star
I sail home to you.'
--From "Exile"
Enya
"Watermark"
Captain Jack Sparrow swaggered down a wide cobblestone street in New Providence (A/N: Present-day Nassau) gazing lazily at the sky and walking off the remainder of his hangover from the heavy drinking the night before. In his opinion, there had been need to celebrate. He had once again slipped his way out from a certain death by the gallows, with much thanks to the Turner lad. Yes, when Jack saw Will again he would need to thank him; he was very much in the boy's debt. And, he thought, with a smile on his lips, he had escaped from right under the nose of that duff of a Commodore. Commo-BORE is more like it, he laughed to himself. But Will had Elizabeth now; she was all he ever needed, there'd be no pirating for that boy. Pity, though, as he would probably have the same ability as his father...
His unsteady walk was interrupted by the neighs of two horses as they reared suddenly in front of him, their deadly hooves inches from his face. He stumbled backwards and landed on the dusty street. The coach stopped just in front of the pirate, and the driver glared at Jack from under his hat.
"'Ey, you there! Watch where you're walking, you cad!" he exclaimed. Jack cocked his hat at the man from where he sat on the hard cobblestone ground. His attention was suddenly drawn to the elegant white door of the coach, which was opening. A brown buckled shoe came into view on the platform which wealthy people used to step in and out. Next an inch of white petticoat appeared before a light blue skirt slipped over it. Finally the person stepped all the way out of the coach onto the ground.
Jack felt his mouth dropping open as he swallowed a remark about snobbish old women in coaches, because the woman standing before him, a smirk plastered on her face and her hand resting on her hip, was definately not old. She was young, with a complexion like new cream and long-lashed eyes the color of the ocean water on a clear summer morning. Her dress matched her eyes, which were now studying him with mild curiosity.
"What are you doing down there, mate? The mean ol' horsies scare you?" she teased, with a slight Irish accent. Despite all her proper clothes and the way her light auburn hair was pinned and curled and weaved on the top of her head, Jack thought she seemed different than the wealthy girls he had encountered. Except, of course, for Elizabeth. Stupid git had to go and burn all the rum... He mentally shook himself, vanishing the memory.
"I was checking the state of the cobblestones. Quite a bit hard on me rump, actually," he finally said, getting up and rubbing at his bottom for emphasis. The girl's expression remained that of slight boredom, but her eyes narrowed in internal laughter. Ah, so she's got a soft spot for humor, that's good to know, Jack noted. The lady held out her hand and asked, "And who is this man I've had the pleasure to meet this morning?" Jack took the soft hand in his own and kissed it to his lips.
"Captain Jack Sparrow, at your service," he said, releasing it. She looked down the length of the land to the harbor, the sunight gleaming on the water, her eyes finally stopping at the only ship docked, some feet out from the coast: the Black Pearl. They widened, taking in the full magnificence of the ship.
"Aye, that's mine," Jack said. She started, not being aware that he had followed her gaze.
"That's quite a ship, Captain," she said. "Obviously to obtain such a fine vessel you would need hundreds of pounds of coin. You do not look like you have many shillings to spare." She glanced at his filthy pirate clothes. Oh, right, he thought, the lass is probably used to such finery and cleanliness as well-to-do folks can obtain. "So you either are wealthier than you look, or you stole it." He barely caught the last comment. She smiled, impressed by the fact that she had been right.
"Ah, who's the mysterious lass that questions the legality of my beautiful ship?" he asked. She curtsied unsteadily, pulling the heavy layers of fabric out from her body.
"My name is Anne. That's all you need to know."
"Anne, is it? Well, then I suppose if you aren't giving me your name you 'ave a very good reason not to, aye?" he replied. Her smile disappeared as she realized that he was playing at her own game.
"I have nothing to hide! Bonny, my last name's Bonny."
"Anne Bonny... The name sounds familiar," Jack said. She nodded and walked forward a step.
"Perhaps you've heard of how I stabbed my servant girl in the neck for mouthing off about my illegitimacy. Or how I punched out the two front teeth of the sister-in-law of the former governor of Jamaica?" Ah, now there's something interesting, thought Jack. No messing around with this girl.
"No, I haven't, but please, enlighten me," he said, gesturing with his hands for her to continue. She looked up at the driver's seat at the front of the carriage, surprised to find it empty. Apparently he had gone off looking for new mounts.
"When that fool McGuinness returns, I shall indeed take you somewhere more comfortable and tell you all you need to know, Captain Sparrow. For now, if that truly is your name, I'd like to hear more about you. There are more tales hanging around your name than there are Brits in Port Royal, and that's saying something," she said, leaning against the carriage and crossing her arms. Jack inhaled with pride, pleased to be able to once again brag about the severly overexaggerated stories of his doings. Seriously, sea turtles?!
"What would you like to know?" Anne's eyes narrowed and a smile played on her lips.
"Everything."
~*~*~*~*~*~*
A/N: Oooh, the suspense! Ha ha! Read on...