Thanks everyone for your review and comments! I'm not sure what was posted,
but I'll update as often as possible. Promise. Love you all. *muah!* Ta!
-eR *.]
Two . The Red Parrot
"And who might you happen to be?" she asked.
"I," he began grandly, then faltered. What was he supposed to say? 'Of course you'll have heard of me. Out to seek revenge for your father? Sorry to tell you this, love - but I was the one who shot your dad. That was two years ago.' Had it really been two years? He had pissed it all away on rum, women . and more rum. Did she really want to find him and kill him for what he had done? Well, she certainly wouldn't be the first person who wanted him dead. But what did he care?
"I'm Captain Jack Sparrow," he said as though it ought to be incredibly obvious.
She narrowed her eyes at him.
"You were aboard with me father - the Black Pearl. An' his first mate, weren't ye?" she asked.
His nostrils flared. He, a first mate? Captain Jack Sparrow. She continued before he had a chance to answer.
"Somehow, I thought ye'd be a lot older," she said, studying him intently.
"I'm older than I look, love," he assured her.
"Me name's India, and I'm not, nor will I ever be your 'love,'" she shot.
"'Course not, love," he apologized.
Her expression angered. "Look - Jack," she began warningly.
"Ah, Captain Jack, if you please," he interrupted.
"Captain," she declared. "Captain ." she repeated more quietly.
"Mmn," he agreed. He watched her as she turned the concept over in her mind. She was searching for a way to say something important, from what he could tell by her expression. Was it about him? "Why was it that you really brought me here?" he asked. She opened her mouth and seemed to reconsider what she had been about to tell him. Not a man to waste time, Jack reached out a crooked hand, dragging the girl down beside him. India was quicker than he had anticipated, and had obviously not been thinking along the same lines as he had. Quicker than 'shiver me timbers,' she slapped him, hard, across the face, shouted some obscenities, and stormed out of the room.
He stared after her for a moment, having grown accustomed to that reaction from women. Then, making the best of the situation, he lay back on the comfortable bed, crossed his arms behind his head, and tried to puzzle what, exactly, was on the girl's mind. Then, giving up on any such strenuous activity, he simply waited, enjoying the luxury of the Red Parrot.
What more did he need? He had a comfortable place to rest his feet, and with his hat and a bottle of rum.
"India!" he called frantically after her, leaping up from the bed. "Me hat, love!" He pulled open the door and looked out into the hall. She was nowhere to be seen.
"Hang it!" he exclaimed. Taking a quick glance around the room to make sure he hadn't overlooked his hat, Jack entered the hallway and made his way unevenly downstairs to the commotion of the common room.
He rolled his eyes skyward. The Red Parrot Inn was a brothel. Cleverly named, he thought, for the women were nearly all dressed (or undressed) in red, and instead of parrots perched on pirate shoulders, there seemed to be whores hanging off the men.
Wait, he reminded himself. All the inns on Tortuga were of a similar nature. Tortuga itself could be considered a massive rollicking, rum-laden brothel.
"Jack," one of the girls said in an overly sweet voice. He braced himself. The expected slap came, hard.
"Gloria," he managed to breathe. Then he trailed his gaze warily across the room, noticing to his dismay that he recognized the majority of the girls - and the majority of them did not look happy with him. He decided that it might be in his best interest to leave, quickly, before the majority of his face became a massive bruise.
His ebony eyes swept one last time across the faces, searching vainly for India and his hat. Failing to see them, he made his way as unobtrusively as possible to the door and delicately exited the Red Parrot Inn.
Jack stood observing the bustling street for a moment. Determined not to rest or take a break for rum before he tracked down either the girl or his hat or preferably the latter if not both, Jack headed out into the crowd.
Barbossa? Barbossa's daughter. No wonder she seemed familiar. From what he had seen, she had her father's temper and flair for big hats. So long as he found his and could settle in for some more rum, he thought he would be the happiest former pirate in the Spanish Main. . . .
"You're looking for who?" Gibbs asked.
"She calls herself India. Says she's the daughter of Captain Barbossa," Jack explained sarcastically. He had found his pirate mate, Gibbs, in his usual spot - sleeping with the pigs and waking with a hangover. Like many of the crew from the Pearl, Gibbs had settled in comfortably on Tortuga with his share of the treasure from Isla de la Muerta - and spent most of it.
Jack kept talking. "She's blonde, I think ." he trailed off.
"How tall is she?"
Jack seemed offended, and answered, "Shorter than me." So he had never been the tallest pirate in the Caribbean. "And she's got a really big hat," he motioned with his hands.
"You mean ." Gibbs raised an eyebrow, looking vaguely at Jack's chest.
"No, I mean a hat, savvy?" Jack rolled his eyes and pointed to his head - which was uncharacteristically missing his own hat.
Gibbs thought for a moment, scratching a finger through his shaggy grey hair. Then something clicked inside his memory, and his eyes brightened. "Yes, of course! Pretty little waif in a big hat. Nasty temper though."
Jack nodded. "Sounds like her."
"Ay, she were lookin' for some men to sail her ship. Mentioned something about needing a ship as well. Funny little thing," he commented.
Jack's interest was piqued, though he found the whole idea slightly amusing. Why did she need a ship, or a crew, for that matter? What was she up to? "When was this? Did she say where she was going?"
"Oh . It were a day or two ago, now. Earlier in the week. Though if she's still lookin' I bet you she's down at the port."
"Hm," muttered Jack. He turned to leave.
"Jack - Captain," Gibbs called after him. Jack paused to listen. "I'm surprised she hasn't spoken yet to ye. She said somethin' about collecting the old crew of the Pearl. Said it was something to do with a treasure hunt."
Jack nodded, but kept walking, leaving Gibbs and his pigs to their business.
Treasure? The wheels turned in his mind, and he swaggered towards the waterside. Twelve years ago, the treasure plundered by the Pearl had been Aztec gold - and unfortunately for everyone but the then-marooned Jack, it had been cursed. Why did India want to reassemble the crew?
Jack didn't even know where they all were. His own men. Well, some of them, like Bootstrap Bill Turner, and Barbossa, were dead. He wasn't sure how many others had been killed or lost to the bottom of Davy Jones' Locker. For all he knew, some of them might have retired and set up hammocks on the other side of the globe.
He kept walking, approaching Tortuga's main port.
The port was generally not occupied by ships, as even pirate ships were fair game for other pirates to plunder. When there were ships, they tended to be heavily guarded by members of the crew. Usually the ships weighed anchor offshore, and men took turns rowing smaller boats ashore to pick up supplies or have a bit of fun with the inhabitants.
If India was planning on commandeering a ship from amongst these meagre pickings, he felt she must either not know a thing about stealing boats, be very crazy, or else be very, very good at what pirates do best. He was surprised that she was even trying to assemble a crew. A woman on board was considered bad luck. And a whole expedition captained by one .? He narrowed his eyes. If she wanted to be captain, then what would become of his title? Likely, though, she wouldn't even ask him to help.
Sticking to his promise not to take a break until he found his hat, he wandered around the port, watching for her. The day dragged on. But despite several hours of searching, he was unable to find her anywhere. There were no ships in port, and after receiving only laughter from several puzzled men on the docks, he didn't ask anyone else whether they had seen a pirate girl in a big hat.
Finally, there was nothing to be done but to find his way to a tavern. It had been a long, arduous day by his standards, and he needed something to soothe his dry mouth and aching head.
-eR *.]
Two . The Red Parrot
"And who might you happen to be?" she asked.
"I," he began grandly, then faltered. What was he supposed to say? 'Of course you'll have heard of me. Out to seek revenge for your father? Sorry to tell you this, love - but I was the one who shot your dad. That was two years ago.' Had it really been two years? He had pissed it all away on rum, women . and more rum. Did she really want to find him and kill him for what he had done? Well, she certainly wouldn't be the first person who wanted him dead. But what did he care?
"I'm Captain Jack Sparrow," he said as though it ought to be incredibly obvious.
She narrowed her eyes at him.
"You were aboard with me father - the Black Pearl. An' his first mate, weren't ye?" she asked.
His nostrils flared. He, a first mate? Captain Jack Sparrow. She continued before he had a chance to answer.
"Somehow, I thought ye'd be a lot older," she said, studying him intently.
"I'm older than I look, love," he assured her.
"Me name's India, and I'm not, nor will I ever be your 'love,'" she shot.
"'Course not, love," he apologized.
Her expression angered. "Look - Jack," she began warningly.
"Ah, Captain Jack, if you please," he interrupted.
"Captain," she declared. "Captain ." she repeated more quietly.
"Mmn," he agreed. He watched her as she turned the concept over in her mind. She was searching for a way to say something important, from what he could tell by her expression. Was it about him? "Why was it that you really brought me here?" he asked. She opened her mouth and seemed to reconsider what she had been about to tell him. Not a man to waste time, Jack reached out a crooked hand, dragging the girl down beside him. India was quicker than he had anticipated, and had obviously not been thinking along the same lines as he had. Quicker than 'shiver me timbers,' she slapped him, hard, across the face, shouted some obscenities, and stormed out of the room.
He stared after her for a moment, having grown accustomed to that reaction from women. Then, making the best of the situation, he lay back on the comfortable bed, crossed his arms behind his head, and tried to puzzle what, exactly, was on the girl's mind. Then, giving up on any such strenuous activity, he simply waited, enjoying the luxury of the Red Parrot.
What more did he need? He had a comfortable place to rest his feet, and with his hat and a bottle of rum.
"India!" he called frantically after her, leaping up from the bed. "Me hat, love!" He pulled open the door and looked out into the hall. She was nowhere to be seen.
"Hang it!" he exclaimed. Taking a quick glance around the room to make sure he hadn't overlooked his hat, Jack entered the hallway and made his way unevenly downstairs to the commotion of the common room.
He rolled his eyes skyward. The Red Parrot Inn was a brothel. Cleverly named, he thought, for the women were nearly all dressed (or undressed) in red, and instead of parrots perched on pirate shoulders, there seemed to be whores hanging off the men.
Wait, he reminded himself. All the inns on Tortuga were of a similar nature. Tortuga itself could be considered a massive rollicking, rum-laden brothel.
"Jack," one of the girls said in an overly sweet voice. He braced himself. The expected slap came, hard.
"Gloria," he managed to breathe. Then he trailed his gaze warily across the room, noticing to his dismay that he recognized the majority of the girls - and the majority of them did not look happy with him. He decided that it might be in his best interest to leave, quickly, before the majority of his face became a massive bruise.
His ebony eyes swept one last time across the faces, searching vainly for India and his hat. Failing to see them, he made his way as unobtrusively as possible to the door and delicately exited the Red Parrot Inn.
Jack stood observing the bustling street for a moment. Determined not to rest or take a break for rum before he tracked down either the girl or his hat or preferably the latter if not both, Jack headed out into the crowd.
Barbossa? Barbossa's daughter. No wonder she seemed familiar. From what he had seen, she had her father's temper and flair for big hats. So long as he found his and could settle in for some more rum, he thought he would be the happiest former pirate in the Spanish Main. . . .
"You're looking for who?" Gibbs asked.
"She calls herself India. Says she's the daughter of Captain Barbossa," Jack explained sarcastically. He had found his pirate mate, Gibbs, in his usual spot - sleeping with the pigs and waking with a hangover. Like many of the crew from the Pearl, Gibbs had settled in comfortably on Tortuga with his share of the treasure from Isla de la Muerta - and spent most of it.
Jack kept talking. "She's blonde, I think ." he trailed off.
"How tall is she?"
Jack seemed offended, and answered, "Shorter than me." So he had never been the tallest pirate in the Caribbean. "And she's got a really big hat," he motioned with his hands.
"You mean ." Gibbs raised an eyebrow, looking vaguely at Jack's chest.
"No, I mean a hat, savvy?" Jack rolled his eyes and pointed to his head - which was uncharacteristically missing his own hat.
Gibbs thought for a moment, scratching a finger through his shaggy grey hair. Then something clicked inside his memory, and his eyes brightened. "Yes, of course! Pretty little waif in a big hat. Nasty temper though."
Jack nodded. "Sounds like her."
"Ay, she were lookin' for some men to sail her ship. Mentioned something about needing a ship as well. Funny little thing," he commented.
Jack's interest was piqued, though he found the whole idea slightly amusing. Why did she need a ship, or a crew, for that matter? What was she up to? "When was this? Did she say where she was going?"
"Oh . It were a day or two ago, now. Earlier in the week. Though if she's still lookin' I bet you she's down at the port."
"Hm," muttered Jack. He turned to leave.
"Jack - Captain," Gibbs called after him. Jack paused to listen. "I'm surprised she hasn't spoken yet to ye. She said somethin' about collecting the old crew of the Pearl. Said it was something to do with a treasure hunt."
Jack nodded, but kept walking, leaving Gibbs and his pigs to their business.
Treasure? The wheels turned in his mind, and he swaggered towards the waterside. Twelve years ago, the treasure plundered by the Pearl had been Aztec gold - and unfortunately for everyone but the then-marooned Jack, it had been cursed. Why did India want to reassemble the crew?
Jack didn't even know where they all were. His own men. Well, some of them, like Bootstrap Bill Turner, and Barbossa, were dead. He wasn't sure how many others had been killed or lost to the bottom of Davy Jones' Locker. For all he knew, some of them might have retired and set up hammocks on the other side of the globe.
He kept walking, approaching Tortuga's main port.
The port was generally not occupied by ships, as even pirate ships were fair game for other pirates to plunder. When there were ships, they tended to be heavily guarded by members of the crew. Usually the ships weighed anchor offshore, and men took turns rowing smaller boats ashore to pick up supplies or have a bit of fun with the inhabitants.
If India was planning on commandeering a ship from amongst these meagre pickings, he felt she must either not know a thing about stealing boats, be very crazy, or else be very, very good at what pirates do best. He was surprised that she was even trying to assemble a crew. A woman on board was considered bad luck. And a whole expedition captained by one .? He narrowed his eyes. If she wanted to be captain, then what would become of his title? Likely, though, she wouldn't even ask him to help.
Sticking to his promise not to take a break until he found his hat, he wandered around the port, watching for her. The day dragged on. But despite several hours of searching, he was unable to find her anywhere. There were no ships in port, and after receiving only laughter from several puzzled men on the docks, he didn't ask anyone else whether they had seen a pirate girl in a big hat.
Finally, there was nothing to be done but to find his way to a tavern. It had been a long, arduous day by his standards, and he needed something to soothe his dry mouth and aching head.