I am BACK!!


Sheesh, just can't get rid of me, can you?


Hmm....now, where are my 50 comments? I only see 36.....that's lacking! *pouts* C'mon, you all say you like the story....where are the reviews?


You know you wanna.......


Monitor: I can't end it there? Alright, I'll keep going....is that alright, then?


Huntress16: Yeah, I figured rum might just do the job....thanks!


COTG: I can make some wild guesses as to who you are.....and I'm pretty sure I know, but I shall not say a thing in case I embarrass someone.....Savvy.


Quicksilvermad: Yes, I'd say you 'did your job' quite well! Thankies!


Lyssa2: Yay! I am not a Mary-Sue! *happy rum dance* I'm glad you like it, too. Makes me feel speciallys!


Bright Eyes: Sorry about the abrupt ending, honest. But here's more now, is that alright then?


And yes, if I absolutely must....*ahem* I do NOT OWN THE BLOODY PIRATES!! Happy?



**************



"That was a dirty, low hand trick, luv." One of Jack's fingers left it's death grip around the neck of the rum bottle to point at me.


"And it was dirty and low handed of you to leave me behind simply because I'm not a man." I retorted, arms crossed over my chest. I was sitting on the deck, my back leaning against the low railing that surrounded the quarter deck. Will sat across the way, whet-stone in hand as he carefully sharpened the edge of his sword, and Jack stood between us, one hand on the wheel, the other wrapped around the lone bottle of rum I had kept.


Jack sighed, waving bottle and hand lazily. "The blacksmith said you couldn't come."


I rolled my eyes. "Before 'the blacksmith' gave you an excuse for not taking me along, you had already decided not to bring me. Really. Like a woman's bad luck on a ship, anyway." I scowled, and sulkily turned away, resting my arms on the railing and glaring out at the steely waves. I know, I was acting like an immature teenybopper, but every so once in awhile, a girl just gets annoyed.


There was a sigh somewhere behind me, then before I could turn, Jack crouched beside me on the deck. I jumped. I admit it. You would too, if someone that good-looking just suddenly crouched beside you, rum bottle in hand, and sighed.


"Look, luv. You're not making it any easier on yourself."


I turned back to face him, nearly jumping again as I realized just how close he was to me now. Forcing calm into myself, I lifted an eyebrow. "How's that?"


He shook his head, beads tinkling together. "This is not a pleasure cruise, luv. And much as I love having female accompaniment on board..." he shot me a lurid grin that made my face turn a remarkable shade of red. He shrugged, still sending a rather suggestive grin my way. "Ye can't say I didn't warn ye."


He pushed himself up easily, and returned to his position at the wheel, humming a song that sounded remarkably like 'A Pirate's Life for Me'.


Sighing heavily (though that wasn't really a brilliant idea, as I was still wearing that bloody corset), I turned to look at Will. I frowned a little, trying to remember what small talk he and Jack had been making when Jack had taken to explaining who Will's father was. Something about his family, I think. Turning my head to one side, I furrowed my brows, examining Will's sweetly innocent face as he polished his blade. What would lead a young man like him to be on a ship ravaged by pirates?


"Will," I called softly, making him look up. "Where's your family? Why are you here, in the Caribbean, all by yourself?"


Will furrowed his brows a moment, as though wondering why I would ask, but didn't seem to mind. Jack glanced up at Will for a moment, then returned his eyes to the horizon.


Will smiled, and said, "When I was a lad living in England, my mother raised me by herself. After she died, I came out here, looking for my father."


Jack's eyebrows raised as he lazily leaned on the wheel. "Is that so?" he drawled, sounding uninterested. I shot him a dirty look that made his eyebrows rise a little higher.


"My father, Will Turner," the young blacksmith continued, unfazed. In fact, he turned those blue eyes at the pirate, frowning. "Jack, in jail it was only after you learned my name that you agreed to help. Since that's what I wanted, I didn't press the matter. I'm not a simpleton, Jack. You knew my father."


Jack sighed, leaning back. "I knew 'im." He said cooly. "Probably one of the few that knew him as William Turner. Everyone else just called him Bootstrap, or Bootstrap Bill."


"Bootstrap?" Will repeated, frowning.


"Good man. Good pirate." Jack seemed to be almost deliberately baiting poor Will. "I swear you look just like him."


Will stood, violently, almost, and I too, stood, nervously gripping the railing. "It's not true! He was a merchant sailor; a good, respectable man who obeyed the law!"


"He was a bloody pirate, a scallywag."


Will drew his weapon, pointing the newly sharpened blade at Jack. "My father was not a pirate."


Jack sighed. "Put it away, son. It's not worth you getting beat again."


Will's face twisted with what could only be called fury, and my hand on the railing tightened so much my knuckles were turning white. "You didn't beat me; you ignored the rules of engagement. In a fair fight, I'd kill you."


"And that's no incentive for me to fight fair, is it?" Jack spun the wheel hard, and I only just managed to duck the boom as it swept Will off his feet and held him over the ocean, his feet kicking helplessly as he clung on for dear life.


"Jack!" I yelped, even though I knew that was going to happen. It was still rather disconcerting to see a friend dangling over the ocean at the mercy of another friend. (Wait, am I calling them my friends now? Wow, that was odd.)


He ignored me. "Now as long as you're just hanging there, pay attention. The only rules that really matter are these: what a man can do and what a man can't do. For instance – you can accept that your father was a pirate and a good man or you can't. But pirate is in your blood, boy, so you'll have to square with that someday. And me, for example, I can let you drown but I can't bring this ship into Tortuga all by me onesies, savvy?"


"You're not alone," I pointed out, noting with a bit of satisfaction that Will's eyes widened a little desperately, and Jack almost - almost - grinned at me.


"And what do ye know about sailing, luv?"


I paused, then shrugged. "Honestly, absolutely nothing."


He nodded once. "I thought so." Jack spun the wheel back, depositing Will unceremoniously on the deck on his back. His own sword was immediately at his own throat, handle towards him, as Jack, eyebrows high, asked, "So, can you sail under the command of a pirate, or can you not?"


Will paused, then took the sword from the captain. "Tortuga?"


Jack smirked. "Tortuga."


***


I don't think I like Tortuga after all. I mean, at first thought, a town made up almost entirely of pirates sounds kinda....exciting, y'know? At least it sounds like something that could have some kind of promise, adventure and the like.


Hate to break it to you, but it's not as romantic or exciting as it sounds. When you get right down to it, it's dirty, disgusting, and downright degrading. Every man we walked past looked me leerily up and down like I was a piece of meat or something, and I found myself self-consciously wrapping my arms around myself as though they were looking right through my clothes.


After some completely drunk pirate lurched into me and I let out a small shriek, Jack paused, and pulled me away, sliding one protective arm around me waist. That almost made me melt. "Stick close, luv. Although ye still can't say I didn't warn ye."


I shot him daggers with my glare, and I can't explain exactly why I did it, but I pulled away from Jack, crossing my arms again. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself, thanks." I said sharply.


He shrugged, and turned to Will. I did stick pretty close to him, though. "More importantly, it is indeed a sad life that has never breathed deep the sweet proliferus bouquet that is Tortuga , savvy? What do you think?"


"It'll linger," Will said, rather stiffly.


"I think this is revolting," I shuddered.


Jack laughed, and threw an arm around my shoulders. "I'll tell you mates, if every town in the world were like this one, no man would ever feel unwanted!"


I scowled, and might have just smacked him, had his eyes not lit up as he cried, "Scarlet!" and the heavily painted woman stalking towards us did it for me.


He blinked, hand reaching up to his smacked cheek. "Not sure I deserved that," he frowned, then looked up at the approach of another heavily painted woman. "Giselle!"


"Who was that?!" She demanded, then spotted me, with my shoulders still encompassed by Jack's arm. "And who's that?!"


I smirked at her, feeling particularly trouble-making-ish. "Problem, luv?"


"What?" Jack asked, not quite following what was going on, until Giselle's hand made contact with his face, and she marched off.


He winced, and glanced at me, silently cracking up. "I may have deserved that."




Whee! Another chapter! *happy rum dance*


And where are my 50 reviews, hmm?