Please Read and Review. It speeds my writing. Really, it does. Also, it
soothes my vulnerable ego.
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Ana-MariA rested her boots on the dining table, knocking a pile of coins and a gold goblet in the process. She smiled smugly. Overall it had been a very good journey, and they had plenty of plunder to show for it.
She fingered an emerald with hung on a silver chain, nestling between her breasts, remembering how the fat rich lady had squealed when she'd taken it. Worth a pretty penny this would be, and maybe, Ana-Maria mused, she'd be able to afford to equip the ship with new sails, maybe even a new cannon, not from the emerald, but from all the loot they'd taken.
The food before her was gradually disappearing, the celebration ham and the roasted chickens torn into viciously by the pirates surrounding her. Some used utensils, but more with a shovelling motion then any kind a grace. Most used their fingers, wiping the grease on their closes or through their hair.
Maybe she'd buy a new hat. A big hat, one worthy of a captain. She touched the hat on her head, which had once belonged to her father, and changed her mind. Some things were too dear to part with.
She sipped her ale thoughtfully, grimacing. Nothing beat the pure stuff.
From the head of the table, Ana-Maria watched Sparrow with all the appearance of staring avidly at her boots. He wore a cheap gimmicky crown that they'd found in one of the cases on the last ship. It was lopsided, hanging down towards his left ear. He used a knife and fork, jabbing at the meat and twirling it round on his fork when he spoke. Ana-Maria noticed how he occasionally glanced at the pirates next to him, watching how they ate, mimicking them.
But Ana-Maria could see the curtesies, the etiquette of the richer breed in the angle he held his fork at, in the neat way he cut the vegetables up with his knife rather then breaking it up with the edge of his fork.
"Well, where to now, Captain?" Crow asked, drawing her back. She shook her head, expelling the day dream that had been growing there, and smiled. She grabbed her mug, rising with cat like grace.
"Where to now, you ask? To our hoard, of course. Can't spend all these jewels at once, can we? And we need to give the navy some time to cool down. We'll stop at the nearest port, we need to patch that hole in the on the port side, and we can celebrate there in really pirate fashion." Ana-Maria said, followed by a chorus of cheers.
"Captain?" Turner said, standing up, swaying slightly on his feet.
"Yes, Turner?" Ana-Maria said, blessing him with an unusual smile.
"When are we going back near England, mam?" The crew grew silent, not wanting to meet Turner's face. England was not an easy place to get to for a pirate, not with the British navy swarming the place.
Not many pirates have families, and for good reason.
"Not right now, Turner." Ana-Maria said dismissively after an auditable pause.
"When?" He persisted. The aggression in his voice was evident. Sparrow turned rum smudged eyes on Ana-Maria, and the rest of the crew held their breath.
"When I decide, I'll make sure you're the first to know, Turner. We'll sail from here to Barbados, if that's alright with you Turner?" Ana-Maria stated calmly, a flash of steel in her voice.
"Aye, not my place." He muttered, reseating himself. The uncomfortable silence continued for a moment, and then the uproar that accompanied all meals aboard the Portella resumed.
Sparrow sighed, flinching at the anger in Ana-Maria. He couldn't help feeling guilty for her harsh words to all the crew recently. She was definitely not in one of her good moods, and it seemed pretty damn likely that he was the cause.
"Bloody woman." Turner muttered so low that only Sparrow next to him could hear. "What the hell's wrong with her these days?"
Sparrow's thoughts on that he kept to himself.
He'd been surprised at the depth of her anger. Well, maybe he shouldn't have been, but for her to keep up this whirlwind of rage for three straight weeks, well, that was estimable. And extremely frightening.
Not that he thought the whole issue would just magically smooth itself out, or that she'd forgive him easily. He may be stupid in the way of women, but even he wasn't that naïve. No, this was going to take a big gesture to make right again, a big firework spelling I'm sorry kind of gesture.
He'd gone to her cabin the night they set sail from Tortugua, hoping beyond hope that she would let him apologise in the only way he really could, with his hands and with his kiss. To write the words on her skin that he couldn't seem to say.
But she'd given him one disgusted look, and he knew that it was going to take more then a caress to get her to forgive him. She was after his blood.
On second day, when they'd come across a ship worth looting, he'd realised what a real danger there was in pissing of the captain. It was a private boat, beautifully crafted, white sails fluttering against a crystal clear blue ocean. It reminded him of one of the paintings in his father's study. He'd almost regretted that they'd had to ruin its journey.
It had been an easy enough job, boarding the boat without so much as a shot fired. The passengers, about twenty of them, stood watching as the pirates ransacked the rooms, taking the woman's jewellery, the crate of beautifully crafted swords that were to be sold in London, the gifts for a General's marriage. Sparrow had been the last on the ship, gazing at the smooth wood and beauty of the vessel.
He hadn't noticed the waves of anger that were contorting one man's face. He hadn't even noticed the man reaching down into his boot, drawing a small knife.
He did notice however, when a small blade planted itself in the wood next to his left ear. His eyes widened startled. He leapt, knocking the man unconscious with he butt of his musket, kicking him for good measure.
He'd looked up, to see Ana-Maria watching him icily from the Portella, her arms folded across her chest. He gapped at the look in her eyes, and knew without a question that she'd seen the man draw the knife.
"Come on Sparrow, stop messing around." She said, turning to watch Crow and Vincent carry a crate below deck. "And grab that knife too, that's an emerald on the hilt," She called over her shoulder.
"Bloody hell," Sparrow muttered, rubbing his left ear nervously. He gave the man one extra kick, so that blood bleed from the man's temple. "Not even a bloody word of warning."
He crossed the plank that had been erected between the two vessels, fingering the dagger unhappily. He stepped ungracefully back onto the Portella, and was particularly upset to have Carlos appear next to him. He swayed away slightly giving Carlos a seriously worried look, not that Carlos noticed.
"I saw that. Our Captain seems to have it in for you. I'm glad I'm not in your shoes." Carlos joked, nudging Sparrow in the ribs.
"I'm glad that you're not in my shoes either." Sparrow said slowly, his eyes thinning, glancing down at his feet and giving Carlos a weird look.
The strange things some people say, Jack Sparrow thought with a shake of his head.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
"Ana-Maria?" Captain Jack Sparrow said questioningly. She opened her eyes lazily.
"What?" She said sweetly, for once without an bitter undertone. His hand found its way to her jaw, his thumb rubbing her cheek softly.
"You're wearing my hat." He said after a moments pause.
"It's a very nice hat." Ana-Maria said agreeably.
"Interesting. If the crew burst in here, finding you wearing nothing but my hat, it wouldn't be good for your reputation. Think of all the terrible things they'd think. I think you should give me my hat back." Sparrow continued smoothly. Ana-Maria looked thoughtful, resting her head on her arms, and raising her eyebrows.
"At least I'm wearing more then you." She retorted savagely. Jack Sparrow gave his characteristic perplexed look. He glanced down as though shocked by his nakedness. Ana-Maria rolled her eyes.
"That's a good point though. We really should get on deck before the Gibbs starts asking after us." She said, stretching and uncurling almost cat like.
"No," Jack sulked, pulling her back down beside him. "No getting up. I'll let you wear my hat." He tempted her. She laughed.
"But Jack, its not going to be that hard for them to figure out what were doing, when both of us fail to emerge from our cabins. Most of them can put two and two together." She said, pulled her neck away from her left shoulder, leaving her left neck exposed temptingly.
Jack raised a finger as if to argue.
"I said most of them." She added quickly. Jack nodded, his finger still raised.
"You're right." He said with a nod of the head. "Can't lazy around in here all day. However, you're going to have to do something for me." He said quite seriously. He had a speculative look in his eye.
"What?" She asked, sitting up, pulling her sheets around her. She was startled by the seriousness of his tone.
"You're going to have to go get my eyeliner out of my cabin." He said with a cringe, predicting the number of slaps that she gave him. He grabbed her wrists after the first few, and made a face. "I'm being serious. You're going to have to get my eyeliner."
"Jack!" She exclaimed. "You are the most ridiculous, crazy, vain man I've ever known." Jack took a moment to register all those adjectives.
"Possibly." He said after a moment.
"And why can't you go do it?" She said. He leant over, taking the hat of her head, and replacing it on his.
"Because, my dear sexy beautiful, wen.... sailor you," He corrected his compliment at the last second. "I can't be seen without my eyeliner, not by any of the crew." He said slowly, shaking his head at each word to amplify its meaning.
"Jack!" She shouted again. Then she was silenced by a long kiss. He still held her wrists. Releasing them, he opened her hands, so that their palms were flat against each other while they kissed.
"Fine." She said afterwards, biting his lip slightly.
"Now that's a good lass." He said, keeping his grin to himself while she got dressed. It wasn't till she left, slamming the door behind her, that he allowed a slight snigger to burst out of him.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * * *
Ana-MariA rested her boots on the dining table, knocking a pile of coins and a gold goblet in the process. She smiled smugly. Overall it had been a very good journey, and they had plenty of plunder to show for it.
She fingered an emerald with hung on a silver chain, nestling between her breasts, remembering how the fat rich lady had squealed when she'd taken it. Worth a pretty penny this would be, and maybe, Ana-Maria mused, she'd be able to afford to equip the ship with new sails, maybe even a new cannon, not from the emerald, but from all the loot they'd taken.
The food before her was gradually disappearing, the celebration ham and the roasted chickens torn into viciously by the pirates surrounding her. Some used utensils, but more with a shovelling motion then any kind a grace. Most used their fingers, wiping the grease on their closes or through their hair.
Maybe she'd buy a new hat. A big hat, one worthy of a captain. She touched the hat on her head, which had once belonged to her father, and changed her mind. Some things were too dear to part with.
She sipped her ale thoughtfully, grimacing. Nothing beat the pure stuff.
From the head of the table, Ana-Maria watched Sparrow with all the appearance of staring avidly at her boots. He wore a cheap gimmicky crown that they'd found in one of the cases on the last ship. It was lopsided, hanging down towards his left ear. He used a knife and fork, jabbing at the meat and twirling it round on his fork when he spoke. Ana-Maria noticed how he occasionally glanced at the pirates next to him, watching how they ate, mimicking them.
But Ana-Maria could see the curtesies, the etiquette of the richer breed in the angle he held his fork at, in the neat way he cut the vegetables up with his knife rather then breaking it up with the edge of his fork.
"Well, where to now, Captain?" Crow asked, drawing her back. She shook her head, expelling the day dream that had been growing there, and smiled. She grabbed her mug, rising with cat like grace.
"Where to now, you ask? To our hoard, of course. Can't spend all these jewels at once, can we? And we need to give the navy some time to cool down. We'll stop at the nearest port, we need to patch that hole in the on the port side, and we can celebrate there in really pirate fashion." Ana-Maria said, followed by a chorus of cheers.
"Captain?" Turner said, standing up, swaying slightly on his feet.
"Yes, Turner?" Ana-Maria said, blessing him with an unusual smile.
"When are we going back near England, mam?" The crew grew silent, not wanting to meet Turner's face. England was not an easy place to get to for a pirate, not with the British navy swarming the place.
Not many pirates have families, and for good reason.
"Not right now, Turner." Ana-Maria said dismissively after an auditable pause.
"When?" He persisted. The aggression in his voice was evident. Sparrow turned rum smudged eyes on Ana-Maria, and the rest of the crew held their breath.
"When I decide, I'll make sure you're the first to know, Turner. We'll sail from here to Barbados, if that's alright with you Turner?" Ana-Maria stated calmly, a flash of steel in her voice.
"Aye, not my place." He muttered, reseating himself. The uncomfortable silence continued for a moment, and then the uproar that accompanied all meals aboard the Portella resumed.
Sparrow sighed, flinching at the anger in Ana-Maria. He couldn't help feeling guilty for her harsh words to all the crew recently. She was definitely not in one of her good moods, and it seemed pretty damn likely that he was the cause.
"Bloody woman." Turner muttered so low that only Sparrow next to him could hear. "What the hell's wrong with her these days?"
Sparrow's thoughts on that he kept to himself.
He'd been surprised at the depth of her anger. Well, maybe he shouldn't have been, but for her to keep up this whirlwind of rage for three straight weeks, well, that was estimable. And extremely frightening.
Not that he thought the whole issue would just magically smooth itself out, or that she'd forgive him easily. He may be stupid in the way of women, but even he wasn't that naïve. No, this was going to take a big gesture to make right again, a big firework spelling I'm sorry kind of gesture.
He'd gone to her cabin the night they set sail from Tortugua, hoping beyond hope that she would let him apologise in the only way he really could, with his hands and with his kiss. To write the words on her skin that he couldn't seem to say.
But she'd given him one disgusted look, and he knew that it was going to take more then a caress to get her to forgive him. She was after his blood.
On second day, when they'd come across a ship worth looting, he'd realised what a real danger there was in pissing of the captain. It was a private boat, beautifully crafted, white sails fluttering against a crystal clear blue ocean. It reminded him of one of the paintings in his father's study. He'd almost regretted that they'd had to ruin its journey.
It had been an easy enough job, boarding the boat without so much as a shot fired. The passengers, about twenty of them, stood watching as the pirates ransacked the rooms, taking the woman's jewellery, the crate of beautifully crafted swords that were to be sold in London, the gifts for a General's marriage. Sparrow had been the last on the ship, gazing at the smooth wood and beauty of the vessel.
He hadn't noticed the waves of anger that were contorting one man's face. He hadn't even noticed the man reaching down into his boot, drawing a small knife.
He did notice however, when a small blade planted itself in the wood next to his left ear. His eyes widened startled. He leapt, knocking the man unconscious with he butt of his musket, kicking him for good measure.
He'd looked up, to see Ana-Maria watching him icily from the Portella, her arms folded across her chest. He gapped at the look in her eyes, and knew without a question that she'd seen the man draw the knife.
"Come on Sparrow, stop messing around." She said, turning to watch Crow and Vincent carry a crate below deck. "And grab that knife too, that's an emerald on the hilt," She called over her shoulder.
"Bloody hell," Sparrow muttered, rubbing his left ear nervously. He gave the man one extra kick, so that blood bleed from the man's temple. "Not even a bloody word of warning."
He crossed the plank that had been erected between the two vessels, fingering the dagger unhappily. He stepped ungracefully back onto the Portella, and was particularly upset to have Carlos appear next to him. He swayed away slightly giving Carlos a seriously worried look, not that Carlos noticed.
"I saw that. Our Captain seems to have it in for you. I'm glad I'm not in your shoes." Carlos joked, nudging Sparrow in the ribs.
"I'm glad that you're not in my shoes either." Sparrow said slowly, his eyes thinning, glancing down at his feet and giving Carlos a weird look.
The strange things some people say, Jack Sparrow thought with a shake of his head.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
"Ana-Maria?" Captain Jack Sparrow said questioningly. She opened her eyes lazily.
"What?" She said sweetly, for once without an bitter undertone. His hand found its way to her jaw, his thumb rubbing her cheek softly.
"You're wearing my hat." He said after a moments pause.
"It's a very nice hat." Ana-Maria said agreeably.
"Interesting. If the crew burst in here, finding you wearing nothing but my hat, it wouldn't be good for your reputation. Think of all the terrible things they'd think. I think you should give me my hat back." Sparrow continued smoothly. Ana-Maria looked thoughtful, resting her head on her arms, and raising her eyebrows.
"At least I'm wearing more then you." She retorted savagely. Jack Sparrow gave his characteristic perplexed look. He glanced down as though shocked by his nakedness. Ana-Maria rolled her eyes.
"That's a good point though. We really should get on deck before the Gibbs starts asking after us." She said, stretching and uncurling almost cat like.
"No," Jack sulked, pulling her back down beside him. "No getting up. I'll let you wear my hat." He tempted her. She laughed.
"But Jack, its not going to be that hard for them to figure out what were doing, when both of us fail to emerge from our cabins. Most of them can put two and two together." She said, pulled her neck away from her left shoulder, leaving her left neck exposed temptingly.
Jack raised a finger as if to argue.
"I said most of them." She added quickly. Jack nodded, his finger still raised.
"You're right." He said with a nod of the head. "Can't lazy around in here all day. However, you're going to have to do something for me." He said quite seriously. He had a speculative look in his eye.
"What?" She asked, sitting up, pulling her sheets around her. She was startled by the seriousness of his tone.
"You're going to have to go get my eyeliner out of my cabin." He said with a cringe, predicting the number of slaps that she gave him. He grabbed her wrists after the first few, and made a face. "I'm being serious. You're going to have to get my eyeliner."
"Jack!" She exclaimed. "You are the most ridiculous, crazy, vain man I've ever known." Jack took a moment to register all those adjectives.
"Possibly." He said after a moment.
"And why can't you go do it?" She said. He leant over, taking the hat of her head, and replacing it on his.
"Because, my dear sexy beautiful, wen.... sailor you," He corrected his compliment at the last second. "I can't be seen without my eyeliner, not by any of the crew." He said slowly, shaking his head at each word to amplify its meaning.
"Jack!" She shouted again. Then she was silenced by a long kiss. He still held her wrists. Releasing them, he opened her hands, so that their palms were flat against each other while they kissed.
"Fine." She said afterwards, biting his lip slightly.
"Now that's a good lass." He said, keeping his grin to himself while she got dressed. It wasn't till she left, slamming the door behind her, that he allowed a slight snigger to burst out of him.
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