Okay okay. I know I haven't updated for a while, but give me a break.
Well, here goes...
Disclaimer: Hey, Lyra. We've got good news!
Lyra: I own Will and Jack?!
Disclaimer: No. We just saved a bunch of money on car insurance by switching to Geico.
Lyra: Damn.
Disclaimer: She owns nothing. (including Geico).
Last time on Jack Sparrow and the Wench of Port Royal..
"Now, I don't exactly know how we're going to get out of her, but-"
"But you're not going to live long enough to have to think about that, so, no worries then," said Robertson's voice from behind them.
Chapter 7
All By His Onesie?
"How did you know?" Jack asked, automatically pulling Tara to his side but not turning to face Robertson.
"It was easy." Robertson's voice echoed around the ship as he laughed. "You didn't finish your drink. And everyone knows Jack Sparrow never leaves a bottle of rum unfinished."
"Ah," said Jack, secretly pulling a pistol out of his holster and giving it to Tara. "I should've thought of that."
Tara looked momentarily confused at the weapon in her hand, but nodded at Jack. She knew what was getting ready to happen.
"Jack, your arm," she whispered to him as he slid off the sling.
"Healed," Jack replied, smiling at her and taking out his other pistol for himself. "You're an excellent nurse."
"Good," Tara muttered. "I think that other arm will come in handy."
Jack smiled. "Oh stop, luv. You're makin' me blush."
"Turn around, Barbossa," came Robertson's voice, interrupting Tara's and Jack's conversation.
Tara cocked her gun.
"My name," she said, "is Tara!"
Both she and Jack spun around and started to shoot.
Robertson dove out of the way, but his mates weren't fast enough. With two grunts of pain, they quite literally hit the deck.
"Where's Robertson?" Tara asked frantically, looking around with her gun still in front of her, shaking slightly.
"Right here," said a snarl.
Tara whipped around. So did Jack, who turned just in time to see Robertson sink a knife below Tara's ribs.
"NO!" Jack shouted.
Time seemed to suddenly go in slow motion.
Tara held her stomach, and her eyes shined with tears. They looked terrified and innocent. Those eyes focused on Jack as her knees hit the ground.
Jack started to run to her, but stopped when Robertson raised his gun and pointed it between Jack's eyes.
"You didn't save her, Jack," he said, grinning in a menacing way. "I actually prefer it this way. The daughter of my greatest enemy dying just when she thought she had love. It gives me such joy. Don't you think so, Jack?"
"You son of a bitch!" Jack raised his gun, ready to die. Just as long as he took this bastard down with him.
BANG!
Jack jumped. He was dead. He knew it.
His heart was beating fast.
Wait.
His heart beating? If his heart was beating, he couldn't be dead. Jack automatically checked his package. Everything was in order. But then.... He looked at Robertson, and jumped again.
Robertson was face down on the deck, blood flowing out of the back of his head. Tara was standing behind him, her face set, her raised gun smoking. Then she dropped it and started to fall.
Jack ran as fast as he could, and caught her before she landed.
"Good catch," Tara whispered softly, tears running down her face. "If you'd missed, I would've hurt you."
Jack grinned, his eyes glassy. "I'm the one whose supposed to be cracking jokes, luv," he said.
"Jack," Tara muttered, her voice growing soft. "I love you. You need to know that I love you. And I'll always watch over you-"
"Not now you won't," Jack cut in. "I won't ever let you die."
He took off his shirt (Tara couldn't help grinning), opened her dress, and wrapped the shirt around her small waist. He cringed as it was drenched in her blood, but proceeded to wrap her in his coat. He then picked her up carefully, and carried her to the bed he had been unable to sleep in.
Tara was extremely pale and asleep by the time Jack heard the sound of an approaching ship. He knew even before he went on deck who it was.
Will stepped off the neighboring ship when he saw Jack emerging from below. "Where's Robertson?" He asked, his sword raised.
"Dead," Jack said quickly. He was very glad to see Will. Not too happy to see Norrington standing on the deck of the other ship, glaring at him, but that was no matter at the moment. "Tara's hurt bad. We need to get her on the other ship."
"Yeah," said Will, now speaking as quickly as Jack. "Of course."
The two of them ran down to the cabin where Tara lay, sleeping and dying. Jack was terrified, but glad he wasn't alone anymore. It was hard to steer a ship all by your onesie.
I know that chapter moves kind of fast, but it was hard to write. Give me a break. And a review! Reviews are good!
You review......I keep writing. Thanks!
Disclaimer: Hey, Lyra. We've got good news!
Lyra: I own Will and Jack?!
Disclaimer: No. We just saved a bunch of money on car insurance by switching to Geico.
Lyra: Damn.
Disclaimer: She owns nothing. (including Geico).
Last time on Jack Sparrow and the Wench of Port Royal..
"Now, I don't exactly know how we're going to get out of her, but-"
"But you're not going to live long enough to have to think about that, so, no worries then," said Robertson's voice from behind them.
Chapter 7
All By His Onesie?
"How did you know?" Jack asked, automatically pulling Tara to his side but not turning to face Robertson.
"It was easy." Robertson's voice echoed around the ship as he laughed. "You didn't finish your drink. And everyone knows Jack Sparrow never leaves a bottle of rum unfinished."
"Ah," said Jack, secretly pulling a pistol out of his holster and giving it to Tara. "I should've thought of that."
Tara looked momentarily confused at the weapon in her hand, but nodded at Jack. She knew what was getting ready to happen.
"Jack, your arm," she whispered to him as he slid off the sling.
"Healed," Jack replied, smiling at her and taking out his other pistol for himself. "You're an excellent nurse."
"Good," Tara muttered. "I think that other arm will come in handy."
Jack smiled. "Oh stop, luv. You're makin' me blush."
"Turn around, Barbossa," came Robertson's voice, interrupting Tara's and Jack's conversation.
Tara cocked her gun.
"My name," she said, "is Tara!"
Both she and Jack spun around and started to shoot.
Robertson dove out of the way, but his mates weren't fast enough. With two grunts of pain, they quite literally hit the deck.
"Where's Robertson?" Tara asked frantically, looking around with her gun still in front of her, shaking slightly.
"Right here," said a snarl.
Tara whipped around. So did Jack, who turned just in time to see Robertson sink a knife below Tara's ribs.
"NO!" Jack shouted.
Time seemed to suddenly go in slow motion.
Tara held her stomach, and her eyes shined with tears. They looked terrified and innocent. Those eyes focused on Jack as her knees hit the ground.
Jack started to run to her, but stopped when Robertson raised his gun and pointed it between Jack's eyes.
"You didn't save her, Jack," he said, grinning in a menacing way. "I actually prefer it this way. The daughter of my greatest enemy dying just when she thought she had love. It gives me such joy. Don't you think so, Jack?"
"You son of a bitch!" Jack raised his gun, ready to die. Just as long as he took this bastard down with him.
BANG!
Jack jumped. He was dead. He knew it.
His heart was beating fast.
Wait.
His heart beating? If his heart was beating, he couldn't be dead. Jack automatically checked his package. Everything was in order. But then.... He looked at Robertson, and jumped again.
Robertson was face down on the deck, blood flowing out of the back of his head. Tara was standing behind him, her face set, her raised gun smoking. Then she dropped it and started to fall.
Jack ran as fast as he could, and caught her before she landed.
"Good catch," Tara whispered softly, tears running down her face. "If you'd missed, I would've hurt you."
Jack grinned, his eyes glassy. "I'm the one whose supposed to be cracking jokes, luv," he said.
"Jack," Tara muttered, her voice growing soft. "I love you. You need to know that I love you. And I'll always watch over you-"
"Not now you won't," Jack cut in. "I won't ever let you die."
He took off his shirt (Tara couldn't help grinning), opened her dress, and wrapped the shirt around her small waist. He cringed as it was drenched in her blood, but proceeded to wrap her in his coat. He then picked her up carefully, and carried her to the bed he had been unable to sleep in.
Tara was extremely pale and asleep by the time Jack heard the sound of an approaching ship. He knew even before he went on deck who it was.
Will stepped off the neighboring ship when he saw Jack emerging from below. "Where's Robertson?" He asked, his sword raised.
"Dead," Jack said quickly. He was very glad to see Will. Not too happy to see Norrington standing on the deck of the other ship, glaring at him, but that was no matter at the moment. "Tara's hurt bad. We need to get her on the other ship."
"Yeah," said Will, now speaking as quickly as Jack. "Of course."
The two of them ran down to the cabin where Tara lay, sleeping and dying. Jack was terrified, but glad he wasn't alone anymore. It was hard to steer a ship all by your onesie.
I know that chapter moves kind of fast, but it was hard to write. Give me a break. And a review! Reviews are good!
You review......I keep writing. Thanks!