Chapter Three: Dodging Bullets.
This chapter brought to you by my wonderful slash muses, Dickie Greenleaf and Peter Smith-Kingsley.
Dickie: Why am I a slash muse?! I'm not gay! I'm NOT!
Peter: *sniff* I need a hug.
August: Aw, there there, hon.
Dickie: I hate you and your stupid story! Where's Tom, I'm gonna kill him! *brandishes oar*
August: already taken care of, sweetums. *points to trunk of Lincoln Town Car*
All: …..o_O.
Dickie: fine, I'm going to the jazz festival. *leaves*
Peter: *sigh* August doesn't own anything, please don't sue her. She gives me hugs. *cries* what did I do to deserve this?!
August: uhm….yeah. On to the story! *to Peter* let's go watch Queer as Folk, kiddo.
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Previously on the show..fanfic…thingy….
It was established that Captain Calidori is a harsh, scary woman. Jack initiated yet another case of mistaken identity, Bootstrap expositioned, Anamaria screeched, Lievtenant Thom was cheeky, the First Mate still didn't have a name, Wilkins was sad, Norrington was slashy, and Giselle was a klepto.
So, picking up slightly (and conveniently) later than when we left off, El Lobo Fuerte was hovering just outside of Port Royal. Not hovering literally, because then this would be like Peter Pan or something. It is Peter Pan with the floating pirate ship at the end, right? Or am I just going insane? So anyway, the Lobo (as it shall henceforth be known) was hovering. The as-yet-unnamed first mate was on deck, doing official administrative stuff. Like, getting Tim to order more toner for the copier and screening caterers for the HR presentation. Only in a more piratey kind of way. Yeah. She was doing said administration because the captain had gone ashore to scout the area. You know, really sneaky shit, checking out the military defenses, trying to recruit more crew members, buy some groceries, that sort of thing. Bootstrap was even sneakier in that he went ashore sneakily and without asking, even though Calidori had ordered him to stay on the ship. Cause Jamaica isn't safe for recently rescued former undead skeletal pirates. Yeah.
Bootstrap strolled along one of the main thoroughfares, delighting in all the sights and sounds of civilization. And also his new boots. Truth be told, he was a bit disoriented, like in that essay by Plato about the Cave? And the people who've been in the cave so long they think the shadows on the wall are reality, and then they go into the light and are all 'Whoa!' in a Keanu Reeves voice? Yeah, that essay. Bootstrap was so wonderfully disoriented, as a matter of fact, that he plowed straight into a lady walking along the street. And considering how the lady in question was none other than Giselle the Hooker, maybe 'plowed straight into' wasn't the best figure of speech to use. Er…I'll just leave you with that mental image and continue on, alright? Eheh.
"Bill?" said Giselle, looking up at him. Only she's a stereotypical French chick, so it sounded more like 'Beeel?' "Bootsrrrap Beel? Is zat you?"
"Giselle!" cried Bootstrap, laughing. The audience paused in mute horror, trying to figure out just how old Giselle actually is. "My god, it's been a long time!" and then Giselle slapped him, because that's always a funny gag and what's fanfiction without overused jokes from the movie?
"What was that for?" Bootstrap asked angrily. "You're a wh-" Giselle glared at him "…courtesan! It's not like I left you destitute and with child, or any horrible thing like that."
"Well, actually..." Giselle began, but was interrupted by Norrington slurring drunkenly for her to wait and hear him out.
"He means nothing to me, I swear!" but Giselle only got all huffy and turned away.
"What's going on?" Bootstrap asked, looking warily at the disheveled officer. Long story short, Lievtenant Gillette had gotten Norrington drunk (again) and the Commodore had asked Giselle if she was up for a threesome. And apparently Giselle took offense at this, even though SHE'S A FREAKING WHORE, and has absolutely no reason to take offense at propositions or slap Jack Sparrow for sleeping with ANOTHER WHORE, and what the hell is Disney's problem, anyway? Damn you, Disney! Make sense!! …unlike this crazed rant.
"Perhaps we could discuss this at a later time, mates," Bootstrap suggested. "It is after all getting late, and the lady and I have some catching up to do."
"Damn rright you do, Beel." Giselle sulked. "You still owe me from last time." Thunder rumbled ominously overhead.
"No, I bloody well want to discuss it NOW!" said Norrington, coming dangerously close to acting like a three-year-old. Bootstrap took Giselle by the arm and began walking towards the docks. "Hey, come back!" the Commodore followed angrily.
Meanwhile, a heated debate was taking place on the docks, the result of Calidori's effort to find new crew members. Let's just say able-bodied buccaneers were in short supply in Port Royal, because she was left with a fancy wench in a corset, and a young blacksmith with an extremely stupid hat. The couple wanted to treat the deal like a pleasure cruise, as they were in the process of eloping. Calidori couldn't care less, and was trying to get rid of them. It started raining, increasing the need to get going.
"Well, do you have any money, amigos?" she said rather snidely to the young couple. The three of them were standing on the dock. The argument was as follows:
The young couple apperantly wanted passage on the Spanish woman's ship, which she was reluctant to give them.
"Look, you are a pirate, aren't you?" the young man asked. There was something about his face that gave the woman pause.
"What I am is none of your business, mister….?" And she turned her head inquiringly.
"Turner." He said gruffly. "Will Turner."
"O-ho." She said, frowning. "Perhaps we have business together, after all."
"Excuse me," said the young lady who was far too well-dressed to be associating with the young man. "But all we want is passage off the island, no questions asked. We'll pay you well."
"I'm sure you will, miss. Let me guess, young lovers?" she smiled again. "Running off to elope?"
"I said no questions asked." The girl interrupted, her voice getting that haughty tone which one is trained to use from an early age in order to get results.
"Not that you're in a position to argue…" the woman muttered. "Well, I suppose if I'm starting a passenger cruise I'll need your name as well, miss."
"Swann." She said coldly, looking the woman directly in the eye. "Elizabeth Swann."
"Any bags with you?" Calidori asked in mock servility, looking around the docks. There was more activity now, despite the late hour. And too much of that activity was from naval officers to be to her liking.
"Will, could you run back and get my bag?" the young lady asked, but the pair was already being pushed towards the end of the dock.
It was a short trip in the rowboat back to the ship, which was flying the Spanish flag so as not to attract attention. This plan however was failing spectacularly, as the authorities had already been alerted to the threat.
"What's going on, captain?" Thom asked. The captain growled.
"Get those two below deck and weigh anchor! We are going to have company of the most unwanted sort."
"This is hardly a replacement crew, ma'am." Thom gestured to Will and Elizabeth, who were standing around looking like the proverbial deer in the headlights. Only this was before the advent of headlights.
"Quite right, Lievtenant, but if we ransom off the Governor's daughter I suppose we'll be able to buy a better crew. Only we'll have to escape first."
"Our Poor Shoeless Bastard isn't back yet, captain." The first mate said calmly.
"WHAT?!" Calidori yelled, her eyes narrowing. Several dock workers turned towards the ship to observe this outburst. Pulling out her spyglass, she caught sight of Bootstrap running along the dock, a flouncing woman in tow. "maldígalo," the captain muttered. Bootstrap jumped into an unoccupied dinghy, but he and his lady friend were shortly joined by a wailing bluecoat.
"GISELLE!!!" said officer cried in a most pathetic manner. Bootstrap looked confused as to what he should do.
"Dammit Turner, just take him with you! We don't have time for this!!"
Hearing that name Will turned from his position on the stair and started towards the deck. He was promptly stopped by a pistol aimed at his face.
"I said get below deck, amigo." The captain hissed. Faced with the threat of a gun-toting woman's wrath, Will made the smart decision for once and got out of the way. "Are we ready to sail, Tim?"
"As soon as our guests get on board, ma'am."
No sooner was this achieved when the HMS Dauntless began to move out of port towards them. This presented a challenge of a most stressful nature. El Lobo Fuerte could easily outrun the Dauntless, but with what was looking like two high profile passengers any voyage undertaken would be fraught with obstacles. The captain sighed wearily, as stressed folk have sighed since times of yore. Then without further hesitation she ran up and grabbed the bluecoat about the neck, holding the pistol to his head.
"You limeys come any further and the Admiral here gets it!" she yelled to the crew of the approaching vessel.
"Ees a Commodore, actually." Bootstrap's lady friend pointed out.
"Oh, well isn't that splendid. I suppose you might never make it to Admiral then, eh señor?"
"Unhand me, madam!" the Commodore spluttered.
This would-be Mexican standoff would have gone on indefinitely, had not one officer fired off a round in a fit of rage. The shot pierced her side, causing her to tumble backwards to the deck. However the captain had the sense to drag the hostage down with her, so that a second shot left a smoking hole in the Commodore's hat.
"Damn it, Wilks!" Gillette yelled in shock from aboard the Dauntless. He did not have the opportunity to hear the Lievtenant in question reply 'It's Wilkins, sir,' because he had gone absolutely numb at the apparent death of his sweetums. And the Commodore of course didn't hear any of it, because his captor had disposed of her weapon and was now holding him down and beating him about the head with the bony stump of her right arm.
"English naval bastards!" she shrieked, not stopping her onslaught. "Auhhghh!!"
"Madam-ow! Stop bleeding on my coat, woman!" he shoved her off roughly and made to get off the ship. However he slipped on the deck in all the rain, and was of course stopped by Tim.
"But him in the brig, Tim," the captain groaned. "In fact, but them all in the brig. Shoeless Bastard too!" she left of the 'Poor' part because with a gunshot wound, she was feeling rather uncharitable. The ship was making steady headway out of port, and her captain was lying prone on the deck, bleeding and shouting obscenities.
"Smike!" she yelled. The first mate peered around the corner.
"What-oh my god."
"Take the helm! And tell Thom to run out the cannons!"
"What can I do?" Bootstrap asked, looking all concerned and such.
"NO! You! Brig! Now!" But her protests fell on deaf ears, as Bootstrap was already examining her.
"Well, it looks like you've still got the bullet in ya, lass."
"STOP TOUCHING ME!!" she shrieked. The bleeding increased.
"Well, this is rather important-"
"STOP IT!"
"Are you giving the lady trouble?" asked Tim in a threatening voice, appearing seemingly out of nowhere. He was carrying a semiconscious Commodore over one shoulder. Tim's freakishly strong like that.
"No!" said Bootstrap, strained. "I'm trying to get the bullet out!" meanwhile, Calidori was going pale but still managed to shout out orders. She was brought to her quarters and a couple small mirrors were fetched. And here's where the nasty part happens.
"Damn it..." she muttered, going a little green. "Don't we have some smaller forceps? Somewhere?" Calidori was, with the aid of said mirrors, digging around in her abdomen for the bullet. Like in Ronin, only Jean Reno wasn't there. Instead, Tim, Bootstrap, and Smike the First Mate hovered over her, making appropriately grossed out faces. Norrington was slumped over in a corner, bleeding slightly from the temple.
"Honestly lass, if you'd just let me do this..." Bootstrap offered.
"No! I can to this…myself…." but she was having little luck. "Damn it, I can't work left-handed!" the captain was now bordering on hysterical. "Fine, Shoeless Bastard. Go ahead, I don't…care…" and thus she fainted. The bullet was removed without further ER-like tension, but it turned out Bootstrap Bill wasn't very good at sewing up wounds. And he was rather unclean, so it now looked like Calidori would be dealing with an infection. The first mate slapped Norrington across the face.
"You. Bluecoat. You awake?" she asked gruffly.
"I-yes. What do you want? And who are you, madam?"
"Smike McMerlin, the White Dragon of Sussex. Perhaps you've heard of me."
"No..." Norrington frowned. Pirates these days were getting more and more overdramatic.
"Damn. Well, are you any good at field surgery? You look like you've got pretty girly hands."
"Well actually y-hey! My hands are not girly!" this would-be catfight (yes, a catfight. Just imagine it, won't you?) was interrupted by the Voice of Reason, in this case Tim.
"Someone just sew her up before she bleeds to death, here," he snapped.
"I absolutely refuse to aid a pirate," said Norrington, crossing his arms and pouting like a determined toddler. And then Smike leveled her pistol at his head. "Oh, well in that case..." he grumbled, and got to his feet.
"You've got to pick your battles, mate," said Bootstrap, clapping him on the back.
"I really hate you people." Norrington said with a scowl as he got to work.
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Notes: hello all! Well, I must say this chapter is actually quite a bit longer than what you see here. I've had to split it into two parts, sorry! Didn't want to make it all novel-y or whatnot. So yeah, there's much awkward reunion-ing to come. Yesh. Shout outs, of course, to everybody at Norrington Defense League, for being such awesome peeps. ^_^. More shout-outs to my slash muses. ^_^. Hopefully I can write better proper slash, when the time comes. No shout-outs to Matt Damon, who is a mean, mean horrible person for killing poor pretty people. _. Bad. Yeah. Apologies for the lack of Hitchhiker's Guide references in this chapter. ^_^.
And on to thanking the reviewers! Yay!
molly foofoo-pants: I love you too! Dude, I need that list. Email it to me or something!
Daroga's Rainy Daae: I always like being praised on my style. You get brownie points! Or just brownies! Woot!
Gambit Gurl Isis: yeah, I was going for kind of a Monty Python feel there, glad you liked it. ^_^. And Jack would be hilarious. He and Zaphod would get totally smashed. *lol*
wicked-angel3: well, you'll just have to keep reading to find out!
Jehan's Muse: Word. Now I hafta go rent Edward Scissorhands again, because I dunno if I remember Esmerelda…Thom is a girl, based on one of my good friends, in fact. And if there were a sexy gay guy on the ship, it'd be Kyan. Or Ted. Or Jailbait Jai. ^_^. Yes, poor Wilkins indeed. *lol*
Lievtenant thom (no, i totally swear to god) : Again, you come up with the best ideas! ..and that's SO true. Heh. Sunk her ship, indeed.. Anamaria is SO annoying to write.
Laerupeth: ooh! Points! Do I get to use them to buy sexy boys? Or candy? Or both? And I break the fourth wall a lot. I just admit it. ^_^.
Elske: Yay for slash! ..well, not so much in this chapter, but there is angsty grief and whatnot. Cause now Gillette thinks Norrington's deceased. ^_^.
Kumagorou: What's with the porkbellies?? And yesh, there will be Jack/Will in this fic. Elizabeth…I've a different fate for her. *evil laughter*
Raya: yay for talking hats! And of course what parody named after 'Funny Thing Happened on the way to the Forum' would be complete without mistaken identity?
Daroga's Rainy Daae: ooh, more style compliments! *bakes a whole mess of brownies* squee! I'm glad you like it! Hey, quote #2 isn't random! It's from The Godfather, Part II. Seriously. Holy cats, I'm a comic genius?! Do I have to send money to your Swiss bank account now, or what? I can't buy praise that good!
Jai: All Hail TIM, the Dolphin Lord! (which, to anyone confused, is an inside joke gone horribly wrong.)
And remember to review! It makes me squee with childish delight! And I'll make sure to comment on your reviews, because I CARE. Or something like that. I'm a review whore.
Peter: truer words were never spoken.
August: hush. : P Review! Yay!