Chapter Six: My Way or the Highway.
Peter: August doesn't own anything, don't sue her. Please. She's a poor college student with naught but a deep and abiding love of writing fanfic, and do you really want to take that away from her? *sad puppy eyes*
Dickie: Cut it out, Peter. My horrifying head trauma's hurting again. *wince* why was I such a bastard?
Peter: because you're a loveable bastard, even though you have no taste in music?
Dickie: fiiine. On with the fic.
Previously on AFTHOTWTB: Stuff happened. Just read the chapter.
Jack was up in a flash, his hands out in a placating gesture as he stared down the barrel of the gun.
"Now we don't want no trouble, lass," he said, using his trademark charismatic smile. But the face before him was stern and unmoved. And then it was joined by another face even more emotionless.
"Well well, Sparrow, we meet again," said Norrington with a dry smile. Calidori frowned and looked at him a moment.
"Amigo, I told you that you could come ashore on the one condition that you not gloat! Are all you English deaf?"
"What's that?" Smike asked from across the cave. She had just finished tying up Gibbs, who appeared to be sauced. Again. Tim shook his head sadly; but then Anamaria began fighting him tooth and nail, and he had to restrain her.
"Love, you can't just treat me crew like this," Jack seemed almost pleading. Almost. "It's not right."
"It's not by the code!" Gibbs yelled hoarsely.
"Well you see Captain Sparrow, there are the things a man can do, and the things he can't do. Isn't that what they say?" she smiled condescendingly. "You for instance can give me back my map, and escape with your life. Conversely you can refuse, and die here in this...lovely cave, with a little ball of lead in your brain."
"Now just wait a moment!" Norrington sputtered. "You promised me that Sparrow would be taken back to Port Royal in my custody, and he'd be hanged! That was the deal!" Calidori gave him a withering glance.
"The deal has been altered, señor. Pray I don't alter it any further."
"Oh can't I have a bit of fun with him first?" Smike asked beseechingly, eyeing Jack.
"Ah Dios me ayuda," Calidori muttered. "You are all thoroughly impossible."
This would-be Mexican stand-off could have conceivably gone on forever, or at least until someone got bored and had to take a piss or eat something. But that's not important. The important thing is that that Jack was at gunpoint, and he really, really hated being at gunpoint. That probably says something about his subconscious, but then again I'm not Freud, so infer from that statement what you will. Good. The poorly-established dramatic tension was suddenly (and thankfully) broken by the sound of someone crashing rather loudly into a cave wall. The someone staggered into the cave proper after a few moments, a dramatic head injury seeping a bit of blood onto his bandanna. He put a hand to his head for a moment, falling against a pile of swag and stumbling a bit. But then he looked up, and there was nothing but joy in his eyes. Joy, and a hell of a lot of alcohol.
"Jack!" he rasped through a sore throat. Calidori rolled her eyes and kept her pistol trained on Sparrow. Sparrow of course ignored the gun and ran towards the drunken Poor Shoeless Bastard (for Poor Shoeless Bastard it was) and there would have been a swell of really cheesy romantic music, had not a shot been fired. Everyone froze, even Poor Shoeless Bastard. He did jerk a little as the round impacted itself in the cave wall. It sent little chips of stone flying in a halo of grey dust. Calidori's pistol smoked, and her eye twitched in a way that could only be described as 'really, really pissed off.'
"Not one more step, señor Sparrow," she growled through gritted teeth. Norrington at this point made an attempt to wrestle the gun away from the angry Spaniard.
"Oh come on, madam, it's just a heartfelt reunion," he said, almost beseechingly. For the Commodore was well aquainted with happy slashy reunions when one party thought the other was dead. I'm not kidding. Read "One Night More" if you don't believe me. Calidori batted his arm away, and glared at Poor Shoeless Bastard with all the rage of the fires of Hell.
"Dammit, Turner! You have RUINED my HOSTAGE-TAKING!!" she bellowed with enough force to rip one of her stitches. "GET OUT!!!"
Her words however had very little effect, as Bootstrap was nearly being smothered by the force of Sparrow's embrace. There were tears in his eyes. It was all very heartwarming and cute.
"Smike," said Calidori in a low voice. "Go outside a relay a message to Thom. Tell her our little sodomist is going to be keelhauled." Any further instructions had no chance to be delivered, as she was thoroughly startled by the weight of Norrington's grip gently restraining her arms. Her eyes narrowed. "Unhand me, sir. You are treading a thin line. A very thin line."
"And you are being too rash, madam. Is all this really necessary?" he said, his voice low. He was doing this against his better judgment, helping Sparrow; but the sight of the two men made his heart ache and he realized that he missed his Lievtenant very, very much.
"I'll not have you undermining my authority, Commodore." Calidori spat, and there was a sudden flurry of motion. Norrington crumpled and dropped to the ground, curled up in a foetal position. He was gasping for breath.
"What happened?" Bootstrap asked. They were all very confused. Sparrow, who had had a better view of the goings-on, looked at Calidori appraisingly.
"Easy on the goods there, love." He raised an eyebrow.
"Shut up," she replied, glaring at him. "Now I will be forced to kill you if I don't get my map back. You don't want to die, do you Sparrow?"
"No," he said, pondering. "But I believe we may be able to reach an accord."
********
After much negotiating, a few thrown objects, loud interjections from Bootstrap, and some overly snide comments from Norrington which necessitated his removal from the cavern for fifteen minutes, an accord was indeed reached. The conditions were rather simple, but Calidori was less than pleased about how things were turning out.
"So I follow your ship to our next destination," Jack explained with gratuitous flourishes of the hand. "You pick up the second half of the map, we both make our way to the treasure, and we split it fifty-fifty, savvy?"
"Oh, anything to just stop this arguing!" Bootstrap slurred. "I think Jack ish being entirely fair, cap'n."
"I did not ask your opinion, Poor Shoeless Bastard." Calidori glared at the elder Turner. "Mr. Sparrow," and here she sighed heavily. "We have…an accord." The two captains shook hands on the deal, and slowly everyone filtered out of the cave.
Aboard the Pearl, celebrations ensued. Anamaria of course was rather irked at the fact that the would-be hostage-takers were now her new business partners, but one didn't argue with Jack Sparrow when he was in an agreeable mood. At the moment he was exceedingly agreeable, having spirited Bootstrap away from the Lobo and the two were currently locked in his cabin, making up for lost time. Anamaria would have liked to point out that it would be extremely easy for the other ship to make their escape, or perhaps start firing upon them, but she could already hear the goings-on and didn't care to risk getting a visual for the sake of informing the captain about her opinions.
Meanwhile, Calidori was again quite close to throwing a fit. After resigning herself to the grim fact that Bootstrap was not aboard the Pearl in an effort to confiscate the first half of the map, she was forced to think of an alternate plan. A plan which she considered most distasteful.
"Are you sure you don't want me to seduce Sparrow, captain?" Smike asked, a hopeful expression on her face. Calidori frowned.
"No, my friend. We all know that you can't hold your rum, and Sparrow seems to already have captured your affections. I don't want your emotions getting in the way of the plan."
"Permission to disagree, ma'am." Smike grinned. "I have nerves of steel. I will not crack under pressure, and Sparrow's charms have no effect on me whatsoever." Smike's statement was interrupted by a snort of derision from Calidori.
"I am sorry, amiga, but that is the most absurd thing I have ever heard. No, plans will continue as usual. Let us send a message over to our new sister vessel, eh?"
A message was shortly sent, containing the sentiment that in order to cement the humours of all parties involved in this new business venture, a celebration should take place ashore. A reply was received post haste, expressing profound agreement to the proposition of the first party, and that the second party would be more than willing to share some of their rum cache.
The party, such as it was, had quickly progressed to the point of lewd singing. There was dancing and music, as well as copious amounts of food and drink. Due to this, the celebrations had passed the point of being termed a 'shindig', and were well on their way to being what could only be considered a 'hootenanny'. Anamaria was dancing, and such was the manner of her performance that Mr. Pontmercy was in danger of fainting. Again. Bootstrap, Tim and Mr. Gibbs were relating old tales of death and misadventure on the high seas, when Lt. Thom interjected with her own opinions on the subject, and the three quickly began comparing scars with one another.
"Whad'youmean, you were 'rooting for me', Sparrow?" Norrington asked, swaying where he sat. Jack glanced at him, or rather a spot somewhere to the left of the Commodore's head. Smike meanwhile surreptitiously stole Sparrow's hat.
"Jus' what I said, mate. Lizzbeth was never th'one for you. Too..." he made a vague hand gesture "too bony. And LOUD! Good god, was she loud."
"Tha's verry true." Norrington said, nodding.
"I can hear you both, you know!" Elizabeth said angrily.
"Pay them no mind, Elizabeth," said Will, his hat threatening to fall into the fire as he swayed. "I shall kill all who besmirch my fair lady's honour!"
This outburst caused both Sparrow and Calidori to dissolve into a fit of giggles. Will glared at them both.
"Why you laughina' me?!" he asked angrily. Norrington smirked.
"Laughing, ha. They're laughin atcha because…because…cause you couldn't besmirch your way outta paper bag! ...no. I mean, kill. Yeah. Thassit." The Commodore waggled his eyebrows. Will began to quietly cry, and laid his head on Elizabeth's shoulder.
And so the party continued much in the same manner for the rest of the night, until some individuals staggered off towards the ships in pairs, and until other individuals were too drunk to move. And thus the day ended.
*************
"Sir, I've just received some information regarding our quarry," Pearce said quietly. "Thought you'd like to hear about it."
"Of course, of course. Let's have it, then," Gillette replied. He noticed the storytelling gleam in his Lievtenant's eyes.
"Well sir, the ship in question is a Spanish privateer vessel going by the name El Lobo Fuerte. As far as I'm able to tell, she's properly registered, and her captain ought to have a letter of the marque in her possession." Gillette drummed his fingers on the desk, and looked up.
"Yes, what do we know about this captain, Percy? I have a feeling we'll need all the information we can possibly get if we want to track this 'lady' down."
"The captain goes by Calidori, no first name to my knowledge. I received a letter from Moncrieff this morning-"
"Why in God's name did you involve him in this?! Now, Bennett will want to be involved, and if that occurs I have serious doubts that either Mr. Turner or Miss Swann would survive such a skirmish."
"Well sir, Moncrieff does have an extensive knowledge of the pirate activity in Europe and the Mediterranean, and I thought it best to ask if it would at all help our situation. At any rate, he was quite forthcoming with what he knew of this Calidori woman. Apparently though she sails under the Spanish flag, it's been said that Calidori most recently was working under rather covert Papal orders and targeting the corsairs along the east African coast."
"Taking on corsairs, is she? No honour among thieves, I suppose. Although it seems rather a tall order for a privateer, and a woman at that." Gillette narrowed his dark eyes. He had begun to think of this woman as Norrington's real murderer, and he was not pleased to hear such ominous tales about his enemy.
"By all accounts she's a terror. Last year she was burning settlements around Carthage, evidently; the attacks moved westward, ending in what Moncrieff describes as an horrific firestorm in Alexandria six months ago. After that, there's been no word of her whereabouts. Until now. "
"Good lord, that was her?" his eyes were wide at the news. Pearce looked almost smug.
"Evidently, sir. They call her a one-woman Crusade. They say that among her countrymen, Calidori is known as the Wolf of Rome."
Gillette's mouth was set in a thin line of a scowl.
"She took James from us, Pearce. Wolf or no, we shall see what happens to this pirate when we call down the furies on her."
********
The world was entirely too unpleasant. Her eyes were squinted shut, as if that would help the rocking of the ship. She had been altogether too drunk the previous evening, Calidori decided. She fumbled the table by the cot on which her pocketwatch rested, but the movement caused the bed to sway. She went rather green in the face and blinked wearily. A low sleepy noise came from her right, followed by stirring, and an arm trailing across her stomach. She blinked, and looked about slightly. It was a distinctly male arm, and she herself was distinctly naked. Calidori froze for a moment, her eyes wide, but then memories of discussing a plan with Smike floated to the top of her mind. She smiled and sat up a bit, looking for Jack's coat which most likely held her map fragment.
The coat was draped neatly over a chair, but Calidori's muddled brain noted that it looked rather….blue, with too much brocade. She blinked, trying to remember where she had seen said coat in the past. It seemed rather familiar. She turned to the nightstand and found her pocketwatch, but when she saw what else was on the table the watch dropped to the floor with a dull clatter. Sitting there entirely too neatly and damning were a neat tricornered hat and (most distressingly) a white powdered wig. The sleeping figure shifted closer to her and draped an arm over her waist. Calidori screamed in utter bloodcurdling horror, crawled backward in the manner of a crab, and promptly fell off the edge of the bed, taking most of the linens with her.
"Oh dear lord," said Norrington as he sat up and the colour drained from his face.
"GET OUT!!"
********
Smike smiled to herself, running light fingers over the arm that was wrapped around her.
"I had better get on deck…" she murmured, turning slightly. She paused, frowning, as her hand brushed a spiderweb of ragged scars, starting at his elbow and running around and nearly down to the wrist. She sat up to see more clearly.
"What is that?" she asked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
"S'nothing, love," Jack mumbled, pulling her back into his embrace. "Go back to sleep." She settled back down, but she could find no peace in the silence of the cabin.
********
The sky was still nearly dark; the captain could see no red at the east. There was only a gradual replacement of the darkness by bleak pale gray. She heard footsteps behind her, and turned sharply. But seeing who approached her, she turned back towards the sea, leaning over the railing of the quarterdeck.
"…I wish to make an apology, madam." The Commodore's cautious tone caused Calidori to shut her eyes and sigh.
"Don't." she said quietly.
"I'm sorry?"
"There is no need for an apology, señor." She turned to look at him briefly, scowling.
"No, no I must make amends in any way that I can-"
"It never happened, understand?"
"At least for the sake of your honor, madam! I am deeply ashamed of my actions." She turned to him, her face pinched with anger.
"Oh, do I shame you so greatly?" her voice rose steadily. "a stain on your honor, you mean, to be in such an undignified position with a crippled female pirate!"
"Well a-actually," he stammered. Calidori uttered and incoherent scream of rage and in swift motion tore the powdered wig from the Commodore's head and cast it onto the ocean. Norrington stared at her aghast, spots of colour rising on his cheeks.
"I…I…"
"Do us all a favour, amigo, and jump in after it," Calidori spat as she stalked back to the helm.
**************
Author's Notes: woo! That was angsty, wasn't it? …Well, this chapter took absolutely forever to finish, due to Real Life and all its intrusions. At any rate, here it is. I'm rather sick of this chapter, honestly. It took up far too much time, and I felt too obligated with including some scenes and such for the sake of the audience. Also, at this point the story gets more…action/adventurey, and honestly, less humorous. I hope it's still funny on some levels, but the story's really started taking itself seriously, so if you stop liking the fic, this would be why. Any complaints, flames, and/or death threats at the myriad of romantic subplots that have been/will be introduced should be sent to me in review form, because I adore reviews like nobody's business, regardless of the content. And if you liked this chapter, you can review it also! Yay!
~August~