Six . Jack of Hearts
Elizabeth awoke with a start and a frightened gasp. There were tears in her eyes. She still had frequent nightmares about the skeleton crew of the Pearl, and tonight was no exception. Being at sea at night always reminded her of Barbossa and his ghoulish men. Frightened in the dark, she reached hesitantly over to light a candle lamp sitting on her bedside table.
She forced herself to forget about the dream. She was just being silly for dwelling on the incident. Elizabeth stared at the light from the flame for a long time, trying to calm herself.
A sound slowly brought her mind back from where it had been drifting. It took her a moment to realize that there was someone knocking on her cabin door. A little apprehensively, Elizabeth sat up in bed, and picked up the lamp. Standing up and putting on a night-robe, she wandered across the small room. Who could it be? Will had already tucked her in and kissed her goodnight. And if any of the members of the crew had a problem, they would take it to Will to be resolved, not to her.
Fighting down her fear, her mind still vividly picturing zombie pirates, she opened the door. The light from the lamp she held in her hands flooded into the darkened passage, and she shrieked at the form.
"Elizabeth, love," an unforgettable voice comforted her. "It's just me. I wanted to talk to you about the -"
Jack. It was just Jack. Immediately her fear dispersed and annoyance replaced it.
"- It's Miss Swann if you please, and what are you doing intruding at this time of night? Please go away; you woke me up," she lied.
"Since you're awake, may I come in?" he asked.
"No," she answered, but he had already wandered past her into the cabin regardless.
"Excuse me!" she said, raising her voice.
"Now, calm down," he soothed. "I just thought you might like some company, since your light was on," he tried. "And I wanted to ask about -"
"- For your knowledge, I was having a bad dream, but I'll be fine now, thank you. If you would be so good as to leave, Mr Sparrow," she continued.
He sat down on her bed. She narrowed her eyes at him.
"Just what do you think you are doing?" she demanded.
"Why don't you take a seat?" he asked.
"I will not," she responded.
"All right, why don't you lie down then," he said, though she obviously didn't notice the sarcasm.
"You're filthy, Jack Sparrow!" Elizabeth cried in shock. "At best of times you can't be trusted, but it sounds as though you've been drinking on top of that!" she said with distaste.
"You're a clever girl, Elizabeth," Jack laughed. "But seriously," he stood.
"- Must I remind you, Will is just next door!" Elizabeth warned him, backing away.
"We can be quiet," Jack assured her. All he wanted to do was talk, though she might never believe it. He paused and sighed. What was the use? He might as well act as she expected him to. "What would you say if I told you I fancied you?" he asked.
She hesitated for a fraction of a second. "I wouldn't believe you. I would reassert that you were drunk."
He smiled sardonically. "That would likely be my reaction too. So don't expect me to say anything of the sort," he said.
"You . Ough!" Elizabeth exclaimed indignantly. She backed up, knocking over a figurine, which clattered noisily to the floor.
"Careful now," Jack said. "We wouldn't want to wake Will, would we?" he asked.
"Why not?" came a voice from the doorway. Jack looked towards the open door with a start. Will stood there, looking as unimpressed as Elizabeth. Jack looked from Will to Elizabeth uncertainly, then moved toward the doorway, which unfortunately also meant moving closer to Will.
"Ah ha ." Jack did his best to smile innocently. "I was just bidding Elizabeth good night," he explained. "I'll be leaving now, if you don't mind."
"Actually I do mind, Jack," Will began tensely, standing squarely in the doorway. "While you're aboard my ship, there are some things your warped pirate mind had bloody well straighten out."
"Of course, Will," Jack began almost fawningly. "First of all, I'd like to say: this isn't what it looks like. You - "
"Don't start with me," Will cut him off in an irritated tone. "I don't want your explanations. I trusted you, Heaven only knows why considering you stole my ship; but since then you have somehow managed to get my crew drunk, and have repeatedly tried to intimidate Elizabeth. As a man, and as captain of this ship, I will not tolerate either."
"A man! Captain? . Damned eunuchs," muttered Jack to himself. He realized that his only option would be to attempt to scare Will in return. "Which reminds me," he said. "There isn't room on this ship for both your crew and India's - I mean my - men," he began menacingly. Then he faltered. "Some of them don't even have cabins, not including the ones who are on duty above deck. And how do you know I was the one who got your crew drunk?"
"Basic arithmetic," Will replied. "You are here. That should be proof enough. On top of that, however, you were asking for rum earlier, and subsequently several of my men came to speak to me, drunk. Plus, you also now smell of alcohol. I may be young Jack, but I'm not stupid."
"Oh, so bringing your ship into port in Tortuga was a bright move," Jack said, but Will barely paid attention.
"I can't take the chance that your intentions and actions, when drunk, will be honourable. And you're quite right, Jack," Will said snidely, "There isn't room on this ship for both of us." . . .
Jack stood out in the hot sun, busily regretting his words. Obviously Will was not able to take a joke. And apparently Elizabeth meant more to him than his friendship with Jack. The first point was self-evident: the boy had no sense of humour. But the second part? Deep down, Jack treasured friendship, even if appearances tended to be otherwise. It hurt that Will was abandoning him in favour of Elizabeth.
The Renegade Swann had weighed anchor a mile or so off shore of a medium-sized sand-and-palm-tree island, and both crews were gathered on board. The other ship hovered off in the distance, waiting to see what was going on.
Will and Jack were arguing. Rather, Will was dictating what ought to be done, and Jack was trying to fight for dear life. Not to mention the life of the crew that he had dragged into trouble as well.
"What?" Jack demanded.
"As you pointed out, there isn't enough room on this ship for both of us. Someone's got to go, and let's face it - it's you," Will said calmly.
"Lovely joke, Will. You make a fine pirate. Hahaha," Jack laughed.
"It's no joke, Jack," Will repeated seriously, "You're going to jump from here and swim ashore."
"What about the crew?" Jack asked.
"Never mind the crew. Sorry Jack - do it."
"You know, there's a way around this, Will. See, you -"
Will shook his head, and pointed his cutlass at Jack.
Jack gulped, his smile long since faded. Finally, he shrugged, turned, stepped to the side of the boat, then climbed up and stood balanced precariously on the edge of the railing. "Well, you're a fine friend," Jack said, sounding honest. "And I hate for it to end this way. I hope you'll always -" but the waves caused the ship to sway enough that Jack lost his balance. With an undignified yelp he fell over the side and splashed into the water. India grinned, though she knew her turn was next.
Jack certainly knew how to get into the worst situation possible, India noted. Apparently some quarrel between him and Will had led to this: Jack, India, and crew were being marooned on the closest island. All right, perhaps 'marooned' was too strong a term; they were being left with provisions and the possibility of being picked up by Captain Hawke's ship . but the outcome was much the same.
She turned to Will. "I must say it's been a pleasure and I wish you the best of luck," she said, and turned to make ready to leap in and follow Jack.
"India - wait," Will said. She paused and turned to look at him. "We'll take you closer to shore," he compromised, "and give you a rowboat."
"Thank you," she said, half surprised and half sarcastically. "I hope someday I can return the favour."
The ship headed closer to the island. Jack could be easily seen above the water, confidently though somewhat messily swimming towards the shore. His layers of clothing, which, waterlogged, would be heavy enough to drag him down to the depths of Davy Jones' locker, were strategically being shed. He paused for a moment, treading water while removing his overcoat, and glanced at the Renegade Swann. He became indignant once he realized that Will was letting the rest of the crew have a boat instead of making them swim.
"Bloody fine way to repay your mate," he muttered angrily. "I could 'ave 'ad your Elizabeth if I'd wanted to! Who do you bloody well think I am?" he asked rhetorically. "Well I'll bloody tell you. I'm bloody Captain Jack Sparrow!" he snarled. "Bloody incompetent pirates," he grumbled, then exhaled noisily and continued swimming towards the island.
Once he reached the beach, Jack was exhausted, drenched in saltwater, and in a very bad temper.
Sloshing himself ashore, his clothing clinging to his body and his bare feet stumbling in the sand, Jack cursed to himself and contemplated whether he ought to fly into a rage when he found India. Before he had a chance to decide, he looked up, and found that India and the crew were already ashore and getting themselves organized to set up camp.
Although it was only around midday, he guessed that everyone would be trying to find food or rum or something else to help pass the time. He had never been marooned with so many people before, Jack noted - for what it was worth. Perhaps it mightn't be such a bad experience this time - or perhaps it would be worse, he realized, because he would have to try to get along with a lot more people.
He stood still for a while watching them before deciding to do anything. India, he noticed, was still giving orders. After a moment, someone pointed him out, and India paused what she was doing to look over at him. They exchanged a blank look, and he scowled, then sulked off to find another corner of the island. There was no way he was going to be marooned with that woman.
There was a quiet inlet to the north side of the island, and slowly Jack trudged his way there, discovering it quite by accident as he muttered slurred phrases of contempt to his sobering self. The sun was still rather hot, almost directly overhead, and his clothes, at least, were beginning to dry. There was nothing he disliked quite so much as the feeling of salt crusting on his skin, except perhaps being left on some god-forsaken island and having salt crust on him on top of that. Frankly it stung, and he felt a bit like he were being roasted alive under the hot sun, seasoning and all.
With an exaggerated sigh, he climbed on top of a large rock jutting out over the water, and looked out across the small bay. There was too much for his mellowed pirate mind to try think about. To begin with, what would he eat, or drink? Next, what would he do for companionship? Being alone was a rather . lonely experience, and not one he cared to deal with at the moment. Yet who was there to talk to, sing with, drink with? Surely not India; and the rest of the men would likely not be in the highest spirits with him since it was his fault they had been stranded here. Why had Will taken offence to Jack's actions? That boy simply didn't understand pirate methodology at all. Sometimes talking to women, like Elizabeth, wasn't about sex at all. Maybe Jack had just wanted her opinion.
He sighed. Nextly, what did Will plan on doing now that he had dumped half the people on his ship? Will still needed to find some way to pay Captain Hawke, and that meant that he would still be interested in finding the treasure. However, India was no longer able to lead the way since she was no longer aboard the Swann, and unless she had left explicit directions to the treasure, Jack doubted very much that Will would be able to find it on his own. Of course, that meant that Captain Hawke was still sailing around somewhere. Would he try to pursue Will, or stay to watch India and the rest of her crew?
Jack Sparrow wished very dearly at the moment that he still had his hat. At least he had dried off, but the sun forced sweat to bead on his face. How was he going to get off this wretched island?
Jack turned, deciding to make his way back to camp and try to make amends with the crew. He misjudged, slipped, and flailed backwards, the water rushing up to meet him.
Splash!
"Bloody hell!"
Jack arrived back at camp in waterlogged tatters. India did her best to suppress her laughter while Jack scowled.
"We'll see if it's so funny once I shove you underwater," he threatened, not loud enough for her to hear.
"Well, if it isn't the Jack of Hearts himself," she called. "Though I'm not sure whether I'm glad to see you've decided to join us."
"Join you?" he asked, amazed.
"Yes, I see your point," she admitted. "If it weren't for you ..." she made a sour face, and chose some words with which to continue.
He braced himself. Now that he had got her started, there would never be an end to it.
"Yes, bloody brilliant, Jack," India spat. "I knew I could leave it to you to really foul things up. If I had been allowed to control the ship, we wouldn't be in this mess," she declared.
"Look, do you want me here or not?" he asked. "Wait, don't answer that. I don't want to know. I'll tell you what, India. I'll sit here and behave meself, and you can stop reminding me I'm not perfect. What do ye say to that?"
"As long as it means you'll keep your mouth shut, I have no complaints," she shrugged, trying to look impassive.
"As long as I keep me mouth shut?" he asked. That woman never stopped complaining! "Whatever you say, love," he smiled condescendingly. It would do no good to argue at the moment. Jack found himself a place to sit, and stayed there, staring out at the ocean while people worked around him. . . .
"You're cheating!"
"I am not!"
"Yes you are! I bloody saw that!"
"What do you mean? There was nothing to see," India defended herself. She, Jack, and several other crew members sat on the beach, in the firelight, playing cards. There was no rum in sight, and they had resorted to games to pass the time. However, the lack of alcohol seemed to make Jack particularly irritable; or perhaps it was just a compilation of everything bad that had happened over the past couple days.
Jack sighed.
India sighed back. "If you're going to be that way, perhaps I don't want to play," she warned him.
"Fine," he replied sulkily, beginning to stand up.
"Captain Jack!" Gibbs pleaded. "Where ye be going, man? There's naught but dark island and wavy sea out yonder," he said with a fleeting wave of his hand.
"Yes, thank you for that marvellous observation," Jack replied dryly. "Perhaps I'm going to explore." With that, he turned his back to them and began to saunter away down the beach.
"Is he always like that?" India asked of Gibbs once Jack was some distance away.
"Aye," Gibbs acknowledged. "Not always; but Jack's a strange one, that he is. Never can tell what he be thinkin' or what he may do. They say that his wits are a little addled from the sun and the salt and the strain of the life at sea - and the rum - but he's sharp as a nail when he has a mind to be. Aye, though I'm sure we all wish that were more often," he admitted with a smile.
India returned the smile, then stood up as well. Perhaps a walk would be a good idea.
Elizabeth awoke with a start and a frightened gasp. There were tears in her eyes. She still had frequent nightmares about the skeleton crew of the Pearl, and tonight was no exception. Being at sea at night always reminded her of Barbossa and his ghoulish men. Frightened in the dark, she reached hesitantly over to light a candle lamp sitting on her bedside table.
She forced herself to forget about the dream. She was just being silly for dwelling on the incident. Elizabeth stared at the light from the flame for a long time, trying to calm herself.
A sound slowly brought her mind back from where it had been drifting. It took her a moment to realize that there was someone knocking on her cabin door. A little apprehensively, Elizabeth sat up in bed, and picked up the lamp. Standing up and putting on a night-robe, she wandered across the small room. Who could it be? Will had already tucked her in and kissed her goodnight. And if any of the members of the crew had a problem, they would take it to Will to be resolved, not to her.
Fighting down her fear, her mind still vividly picturing zombie pirates, she opened the door. The light from the lamp she held in her hands flooded into the darkened passage, and she shrieked at the form.
"Elizabeth, love," an unforgettable voice comforted her. "It's just me. I wanted to talk to you about the -"
Jack. It was just Jack. Immediately her fear dispersed and annoyance replaced it.
"- It's Miss Swann if you please, and what are you doing intruding at this time of night? Please go away; you woke me up," she lied.
"Since you're awake, may I come in?" he asked.
"No," she answered, but he had already wandered past her into the cabin regardless.
"Excuse me!" she said, raising her voice.
"Now, calm down," he soothed. "I just thought you might like some company, since your light was on," he tried. "And I wanted to ask about -"
"- For your knowledge, I was having a bad dream, but I'll be fine now, thank you. If you would be so good as to leave, Mr Sparrow," she continued.
He sat down on her bed. She narrowed her eyes at him.
"Just what do you think you are doing?" she demanded.
"Why don't you take a seat?" he asked.
"I will not," she responded.
"All right, why don't you lie down then," he said, though she obviously didn't notice the sarcasm.
"You're filthy, Jack Sparrow!" Elizabeth cried in shock. "At best of times you can't be trusted, but it sounds as though you've been drinking on top of that!" she said with distaste.
"You're a clever girl, Elizabeth," Jack laughed. "But seriously," he stood.
"- Must I remind you, Will is just next door!" Elizabeth warned him, backing away.
"We can be quiet," Jack assured her. All he wanted to do was talk, though she might never believe it. He paused and sighed. What was the use? He might as well act as she expected him to. "What would you say if I told you I fancied you?" he asked.
She hesitated for a fraction of a second. "I wouldn't believe you. I would reassert that you were drunk."
He smiled sardonically. "That would likely be my reaction too. So don't expect me to say anything of the sort," he said.
"You . Ough!" Elizabeth exclaimed indignantly. She backed up, knocking over a figurine, which clattered noisily to the floor.
"Careful now," Jack said. "We wouldn't want to wake Will, would we?" he asked.
"Why not?" came a voice from the doorway. Jack looked towards the open door with a start. Will stood there, looking as unimpressed as Elizabeth. Jack looked from Will to Elizabeth uncertainly, then moved toward the doorway, which unfortunately also meant moving closer to Will.
"Ah ha ." Jack did his best to smile innocently. "I was just bidding Elizabeth good night," he explained. "I'll be leaving now, if you don't mind."
"Actually I do mind, Jack," Will began tensely, standing squarely in the doorway. "While you're aboard my ship, there are some things your warped pirate mind had bloody well straighten out."
"Of course, Will," Jack began almost fawningly. "First of all, I'd like to say: this isn't what it looks like. You - "
"Don't start with me," Will cut him off in an irritated tone. "I don't want your explanations. I trusted you, Heaven only knows why considering you stole my ship; but since then you have somehow managed to get my crew drunk, and have repeatedly tried to intimidate Elizabeth. As a man, and as captain of this ship, I will not tolerate either."
"A man! Captain? . Damned eunuchs," muttered Jack to himself. He realized that his only option would be to attempt to scare Will in return. "Which reminds me," he said. "There isn't room on this ship for both your crew and India's - I mean my - men," he began menacingly. Then he faltered. "Some of them don't even have cabins, not including the ones who are on duty above deck. And how do you know I was the one who got your crew drunk?"
"Basic arithmetic," Will replied. "You are here. That should be proof enough. On top of that, however, you were asking for rum earlier, and subsequently several of my men came to speak to me, drunk. Plus, you also now smell of alcohol. I may be young Jack, but I'm not stupid."
"Oh, so bringing your ship into port in Tortuga was a bright move," Jack said, but Will barely paid attention.
"I can't take the chance that your intentions and actions, when drunk, will be honourable. And you're quite right, Jack," Will said snidely, "There isn't room on this ship for both of us." . . .
Jack stood out in the hot sun, busily regretting his words. Obviously Will was not able to take a joke. And apparently Elizabeth meant more to him than his friendship with Jack. The first point was self-evident: the boy had no sense of humour. But the second part? Deep down, Jack treasured friendship, even if appearances tended to be otherwise. It hurt that Will was abandoning him in favour of Elizabeth.
The Renegade Swann had weighed anchor a mile or so off shore of a medium-sized sand-and-palm-tree island, and both crews were gathered on board. The other ship hovered off in the distance, waiting to see what was going on.
Will and Jack were arguing. Rather, Will was dictating what ought to be done, and Jack was trying to fight for dear life. Not to mention the life of the crew that he had dragged into trouble as well.
"What?" Jack demanded.
"As you pointed out, there isn't enough room on this ship for both of us. Someone's got to go, and let's face it - it's you," Will said calmly.
"Lovely joke, Will. You make a fine pirate. Hahaha," Jack laughed.
"It's no joke, Jack," Will repeated seriously, "You're going to jump from here and swim ashore."
"What about the crew?" Jack asked.
"Never mind the crew. Sorry Jack - do it."
"You know, there's a way around this, Will. See, you -"
Will shook his head, and pointed his cutlass at Jack.
Jack gulped, his smile long since faded. Finally, he shrugged, turned, stepped to the side of the boat, then climbed up and stood balanced precariously on the edge of the railing. "Well, you're a fine friend," Jack said, sounding honest. "And I hate for it to end this way. I hope you'll always -" but the waves caused the ship to sway enough that Jack lost his balance. With an undignified yelp he fell over the side and splashed into the water. India grinned, though she knew her turn was next.
Jack certainly knew how to get into the worst situation possible, India noted. Apparently some quarrel between him and Will had led to this: Jack, India, and crew were being marooned on the closest island. All right, perhaps 'marooned' was too strong a term; they were being left with provisions and the possibility of being picked up by Captain Hawke's ship . but the outcome was much the same.
She turned to Will. "I must say it's been a pleasure and I wish you the best of luck," she said, and turned to make ready to leap in and follow Jack.
"India - wait," Will said. She paused and turned to look at him. "We'll take you closer to shore," he compromised, "and give you a rowboat."
"Thank you," she said, half surprised and half sarcastically. "I hope someday I can return the favour."
The ship headed closer to the island. Jack could be easily seen above the water, confidently though somewhat messily swimming towards the shore. His layers of clothing, which, waterlogged, would be heavy enough to drag him down to the depths of Davy Jones' locker, were strategically being shed. He paused for a moment, treading water while removing his overcoat, and glanced at the Renegade Swann. He became indignant once he realized that Will was letting the rest of the crew have a boat instead of making them swim.
"Bloody fine way to repay your mate," he muttered angrily. "I could 'ave 'ad your Elizabeth if I'd wanted to! Who do you bloody well think I am?" he asked rhetorically. "Well I'll bloody tell you. I'm bloody Captain Jack Sparrow!" he snarled. "Bloody incompetent pirates," he grumbled, then exhaled noisily and continued swimming towards the island.
Once he reached the beach, Jack was exhausted, drenched in saltwater, and in a very bad temper.
Sloshing himself ashore, his clothing clinging to his body and his bare feet stumbling in the sand, Jack cursed to himself and contemplated whether he ought to fly into a rage when he found India. Before he had a chance to decide, he looked up, and found that India and the crew were already ashore and getting themselves organized to set up camp.
Although it was only around midday, he guessed that everyone would be trying to find food or rum or something else to help pass the time. He had never been marooned with so many people before, Jack noted - for what it was worth. Perhaps it mightn't be such a bad experience this time - or perhaps it would be worse, he realized, because he would have to try to get along with a lot more people.
He stood still for a while watching them before deciding to do anything. India, he noticed, was still giving orders. After a moment, someone pointed him out, and India paused what she was doing to look over at him. They exchanged a blank look, and he scowled, then sulked off to find another corner of the island. There was no way he was going to be marooned with that woman.
There was a quiet inlet to the north side of the island, and slowly Jack trudged his way there, discovering it quite by accident as he muttered slurred phrases of contempt to his sobering self. The sun was still rather hot, almost directly overhead, and his clothes, at least, were beginning to dry. There was nothing he disliked quite so much as the feeling of salt crusting on his skin, except perhaps being left on some god-forsaken island and having salt crust on him on top of that. Frankly it stung, and he felt a bit like he were being roasted alive under the hot sun, seasoning and all.
With an exaggerated sigh, he climbed on top of a large rock jutting out over the water, and looked out across the small bay. There was too much for his mellowed pirate mind to try think about. To begin with, what would he eat, or drink? Next, what would he do for companionship? Being alone was a rather . lonely experience, and not one he cared to deal with at the moment. Yet who was there to talk to, sing with, drink with? Surely not India; and the rest of the men would likely not be in the highest spirits with him since it was his fault they had been stranded here. Why had Will taken offence to Jack's actions? That boy simply didn't understand pirate methodology at all. Sometimes talking to women, like Elizabeth, wasn't about sex at all. Maybe Jack had just wanted her opinion.
He sighed. Nextly, what did Will plan on doing now that he had dumped half the people on his ship? Will still needed to find some way to pay Captain Hawke, and that meant that he would still be interested in finding the treasure. However, India was no longer able to lead the way since she was no longer aboard the Swann, and unless she had left explicit directions to the treasure, Jack doubted very much that Will would be able to find it on his own. Of course, that meant that Captain Hawke was still sailing around somewhere. Would he try to pursue Will, or stay to watch India and the rest of her crew?
Jack Sparrow wished very dearly at the moment that he still had his hat. At least he had dried off, but the sun forced sweat to bead on his face. How was he going to get off this wretched island?
Jack turned, deciding to make his way back to camp and try to make amends with the crew. He misjudged, slipped, and flailed backwards, the water rushing up to meet him.
Splash!
"Bloody hell!"
Jack arrived back at camp in waterlogged tatters. India did her best to suppress her laughter while Jack scowled.
"We'll see if it's so funny once I shove you underwater," he threatened, not loud enough for her to hear.
"Well, if it isn't the Jack of Hearts himself," she called. "Though I'm not sure whether I'm glad to see you've decided to join us."
"Join you?" he asked, amazed.
"Yes, I see your point," she admitted. "If it weren't for you ..." she made a sour face, and chose some words with which to continue.
He braced himself. Now that he had got her started, there would never be an end to it.
"Yes, bloody brilliant, Jack," India spat. "I knew I could leave it to you to really foul things up. If I had been allowed to control the ship, we wouldn't be in this mess," she declared.
"Look, do you want me here or not?" he asked. "Wait, don't answer that. I don't want to know. I'll tell you what, India. I'll sit here and behave meself, and you can stop reminding me I'm not perfect. What do ye say to that?"
"As long as it means you'll keep your mouth shut, I have no complaints," she shrugged, trying to look impassive.
"As long as I keep me mouth shut?" he asked. That woman never stopped complaining! "Whatever you say, love," he smiled condescendingly. It would do no good to argue at the moment. Jack found himself a place to sit, and stayed there, staring out at the ocean while people worked around him. . . .
"You're cheating!"
"I am not!"
"Yes you are! I bloody saw that!"
"What do you mean? There was nothing to see," India defended herself. She, Jack, and several other crew members sat on the beach, in the firelight, playing cards. There was no rum in sight, and they had resorted to games to pass the time. However, the lack of alcohol seemed to make Jack particularly irritable; or perhaps it was just a compilation of everything bad that had happened over the past couple days.
Jack sighed.
India sighed back. "If you're going to be that way, perhaps I don't want to play," she warned him.
"Fine," he replied sulkily, beginning to stand up.
"Captain Jack!" Gibbs pleaded. "Where ye be going, man? There's naught but dark island and wavy sea out yonder," he said with a fleeting wave of his hand.
"Yes, thank you for that marvellous observation," Jack replied dryly. "Perhaps I'm going to explore." With that, he turned his back to them and began to saunter away down the beach.
"Is he always like that?" India asked of Gibbs once Jack was some distance away.
"Aye," Gibbs acknowledged. "Not always; but Jack's a strange one, that he is. Never can tell what he be thinkin' or what he may do. They say that his wits are a little addled from the sun and the salt and the strain of the life at sea - and the rum - but he's sharp as a nail when he has a mind to be. Aye, though I'm sure we all wish that were more often," he admitted with a smile.
India returned the smile, then stood up as well. Perhaps a walk would be a good idea.