Author's Note: Leila, thank you for being my first reviewer. *hugs* I'll
try to make my chapters longer.
Disclaimer: I'm ownlessness...hmmm, a new word. I own nothing, nada, zip, zilch, nil...you get the point.
Rain poured down onto the cobblestone streets, creating massive puddles. Alison ran through the streets. She made her way down an alley in a hurry. Her feet splashing in the puddles as she ran to the door at the end of the alleyway. The young woman opened the old door, slipped inside, and closed it behind her. "Alison, you are late," a scruffy looking man scolded the blonde, watching her catch her breath.
"I am sorry, Peter. I got caught up at home," she briefly apologized to the large man. He looked at her and shook his head.
"Don't let it happen again," he warned her. She nodded, taking off her coat. She hung the black coat on the coat hanger and pushed through the swinging door, walking into the noisy bar.
Only a few men sat at the bar, the rest drinking with their wenches. The bar was crowded, as usual, and very loud. Alison would go home with a headache tonight for sure, with all the screaming, yelling, and giggling. "I'll have a rum," one of the men ordered before guzzling down the rest of his beverage. Alison looked around for a moment.
"Rose, what's in the mugs?" Alison questioned a passing bar wench.
"Rums for Sparrow's crew," Rose answered, balancing the tray of drinks on one hand and holding the tray with the other. Alison snatched one of the mugs of rum and placed it in front of the drunken man. He slammed down his mug and picked up the other one.
"I hope you can pay for those," Alison said, leaning over the bar slightly. The man did not even give her a glance, for he was preoccupied with his rum. It took him a moment of silence between him and Alison before he realized she was talking to him. He looked at her and smiled playfully.
"The drinks or the whores?" he asked, gesturing to the two women behind him.
"The drinks. It looks like those women have already been bought for tonight. So, what brings you here, Jack?" Alison smiled, leaning her head on her right hand.
"It's Captain," Jack corrected, taking a swig of his beloved drink.
"Forgive me. What brings you back, Cap'n?" she asked again.
"Visiting Will," he grinned at the woman before him.
"Just Will?"
"And you," he nodded at her, setting down his drink once more.
"It's been four months, why so long?"
"Got a good haul. Treasure huntin' pays off after all, luv."
"Oh, I see," Alison giggled. Without her asking, he began his tale of his recent treasure hunt.
Throughout the past two years, Jack has made an effort to visit Alison at least once every two months. After the day they met at the bar Alison went back looking for a job, one of her aunt's stipulations. Jack was staying that whole week, for it was Will and Elizabeth's wedding, and they had talked and gotten to know one another. It was not until three months after they became friends that Jack had spelled it out for her that he was a pirate. She would not talk to him for a few months, but she eventually came around.
".And then we took all the gold he had in his cellar," Jack Sparrow finished with a smile. Alison smiled at his story, shaking her head.
"You are something else, Cap'n," she let her smile droop into a slight grin. She loved hearing his tales of adventure, but she had work to do. She reached under the bar's countertop and whipped out an old stained rag that had once been white. Its color had faded in time and covered in red, gold, and other hues from the alcohol and food spills. She tossed the rag onto the bar from under it and began to wipe the bar top.
"You aren't all that you seem either, luv," Jack added, picking up his drink again.
"I didn't say that," Alison looked at him with stern eyes. She studied his dark face. His eyes never looked at her; they just stayed focus on the mug in his hand. After a moment of silence Jack's chocolate brown eyes looked up into her eyes with slight confusion.
"What?" "I never said you weren't what you seemed," she stated, irritation trying to break the barrier of patience.
"I didn't say you did," he finished off his rum and stood up from the wooden bar stool.
"Where are you going?"
"I'm leaving," Jack slammed the mug onto the bar. He scooped up his hat and pushed it onto the top of his head.
"Why?" Alison questioned.
"I have places to go and people to...see," he chose his words carefully, not wanting to offend Alison.
"Goodnight, Jack," she mumbled. She shook her head while the pirate captain walk out of the bar. A few stray hairs waved in front of her face with each head movement. Alison's emerald eyes fixed their gaze on these blonde strands. With a huff Alison grabbed onto the thin strands and secured them behind her ear.
* * * * *
The pub door opened, another customer aiming for alcohol. It had been twenty-three minutes since Jack left. Alison had been busy taking food and drinks to the men that inhabited the bar. She categorized them all in the same group, the filthy disgusting miscreants of or visiting Port Royal.
She had gone into the kitchen and when she came back out she spotted a decent looking young man sitting at the bar. His perfectly sculpted face held two eyes of bright blue. Short russet hair lay on top of his head. His hair was matted down and Alison assumed it was because of the rain that poured onto the cobblestone streets.
She slowly approached him, taking in his damp form. His loose shirt was the color of the blue sky and his pants were a dark brown, like the color one would see on a tree trunk. Through his wet shirt she could clearly make out his torso shape. He had less muscle than Jack did and his skin was paler than Jack's skin...but why was she comparing him to Jack? Shaking the thoughts out of her head, she was ready to do her job again.
"What can I get for you?" she asked. He looked at her and smiled.
"You're Sarah's niece, aren't you?" he asked, leaving poor Alison slightly confused.
"Yes. Why do you ask?" she questioned back.
-Sorry, I know that was a really really bad place to leave off, but I can't decide on why he wants to know. Will he be her love interest? Maybe. I cannot say. Keep reviewing, please, it encourages me. And thank you again, Leila. I hope this chapter was a good length. (If not, the next one will be longer)
Disclaimer: I'm ownlessness...hmmm, a new word. I own nothing, nada, zip, zilch, nil...you get the point.
Rain poured down onto the cobblestone streets, creating massive puddles. Alison ran through the streets. She made her way down an alley in a hurry. Her feet splashing in the puddles as she ran to the door at the end of the alleyway. The young woman opened the old door, slipped inside, and closed it behind her. "Alison, you are late," a scruffy looking man scolded the blonde, watching her catch her breath.
"I am sorry, Peter. I got caught up at home," she briefly apologized to the large man. He looked at her and shook his head.
"Don't let it happen again," he warned her. She nodded, taking off her coat. She hung the black coat on the coat hanger and pushed through the swinging door, walking into the noisy bar.
Only a few men sat at the bar, the rest drinking with their wenches. The bar was crowded, as usual, and very loud. Alison would go home with a headache tonight for sure, with all the screaming, yelling, and giggling. "I'll have a rum," one of the men ordered before guzzling down the rest of his beverage. Alison looked around for a moment.
"Rose, what's in the mugs?" Alison questioned a passing bar wench.
"Rums for Sparrow's crew," Rose answered, balancing the tray of drinks on one hand and holding the tray with the other. Alison snatched one of the mugs of rum and placed it in front of the drunken man. He slammed down his mug and picked up the other one.
"I hope you can pay for those," Alison said, leaning over the bar slightly. The man did not even give her a glance, for he was preoccupied with his rum. It took him a moment of silence between him and Alison before he realized she was talking to him. He looked at her and smiled playfully.
"The drinks or the whores?" he asked, gesturing to the two women behind him.
"The drinks. It looks like those women have already been bought for tonight. So, what brings you here, Jack?" Alison smiled, leaning her head on her right hand.
"It's Captain," Jack corrected, taking a swig of his beloved drink.
"Forgive me. What brings you back, Cap'n?" she asked again.
"Visiting Will," he grinned at the woman before him.
"Just Will?"
"And you," he nodded at her, setting down his drink once more.
"It's been four months, why so long?"
"Got a good haul. Treasure huntin' pays off after all, luv."
"Oh, I see," Alison giggled. Without her asking, he began his tale of his recent treasure hunt.
Throughout the past two years, Jack has made an effort to visit Alison at least once every two months. After the day they met at the bar Alison went back looking for a job, one of her aunt's stipulations. Jack was staying that whole week, for it was Will and Elizabeth's wedding, and they had talked and gotten to know one another. It was not until three months after they became friends that Jack had spelled it out for her that he was a pirate. She would not talk to him for a few months, but she eventually came around.
".And then we took all the gold he had in his cellar," Jack Sparrow finished with a smile. Alison smiled at his story, shaking her head.
"You are something else, Cap'n," she let her smile droop into a slight grin. She loved hearing his tales of adventure, but she had work to do. She reached under the bar's countertop and whipped out an old stained rag that had once been white. Its color had faded in time and covered in red, gold, and other hues from the alcohol and food spills. She tossed the rag onto the bar from under it and began to wipe the bar top.
"You aren't all that you seem either, luv," Jack added, picking up his drink again.
"I didn't say that," Alison looked at him with stern eyes. She studied his dark face. His eyes never looked at her; they just stayed focus on the mug in his hand. After a moment of silence Jack's chocolate brown eyes looked up into her eyes with slight confusion.
"What?" "I never said you weren't what you seemed," she stated, irritation trying to break the barrier of patience.
"I didn't say you did," he finished off his rum and stood up from the wooden bar stool.
"Where are you going?"
"I'm leaving," Jack slammed the mug onto the bar. He scooped up his hat and pushed it onto the top of his head.
"Why?" Alison questioned.
"I have places to go and people to...see," he chose his words carefully, not wanting to offend Alison.
"Goodnight, Jack," she mumbled. She shook her head while the pirate captain walk out of the bar. A few stray hairs waved in front of her face with each head movement. Alison's emerald eyes fixed their gaze on these blonde strands. With a huff Alison grabbed onto the thin strands and secured them behind her ear.
* * * * *
The pub door opened, another customer aiming for alcohol. It had been twenty-three minutes since Jack left. Alison had been busy taking food and drinks to the men that inhabited the bar. She categorized them all in the same group, the filthy disgusting miscreants of or visiting Port Royal.
She had gone into the kitchen and when she came back out she spotted a decent looking young man sitting at the bar. His perfectly sculpted face held two eyes of bright blue. Short russet hair lay on top of his head. His hair was matted down and Alison assumed it was because of the rain that poured onto the cobblestone streets.
She slowly approached him, taking in his damp form. His loose shirt was the color of the blue sky and his pants were a dark brown, like the color one would see on a tree trunk. Through his wet shirt she could clearly make out his torso shape. He had less muscle than Jack did and his skin was paler than Jack's skin...but why was she comparing him to Jack? Shaking the thoughts out of her head, she was ready to do her job again.
"What can I get for you?" she asked. He looked at her and smiled.
"You're Sarah's niece, aren't you?" he asked, leaving poor Alison slightly confused.
"Yes. Why do you ask?" she questioned back.
-Sorry, I know that was a really really bad place to leave off, but I can't decide on why he wants to know. Will he be her love interest? Maybe. I cannot say. Keep reviewing, please, it encourages me. And thank you again, Leila. I hope this chapter was a good length. (If not, the next one will be longer)