A/N: Another day, another chapter! Yay!
Disclaimer: Don't own it, so don't sue me.
Vicki: You were my first reviewer! As a prize, I present you with-----a bottle of rum! Sorry, I know that was silly, but I just seem to be in that sort of mood today.
Fadryn: You don't like Kathleen? I don't blame you. She's been a bit wishy-washy so far, hasn't she? Don't worry, I'll make her all better.
Mayya: Hello! Thank you for the review. I hope this update is soon enough for you.
DaydreamBeliever14: I'm glad you like my story. By the way, love your name.
Sarla: You had me going there for a minute. I thought I was being flamed! Glad you like the story. You say Captain Jack Sparrow would be proud? *blushes* Do you think he'd be proud enough for a personal visit? *wink wink, nudge nudge* No? I didn't think so either. Oh, well.
A/N (again): I'm sorry if you reviewed the last chapter and didn't get a call-out! It's nothing personal! No, wait! Let me explain! Don't click the back button yet! *heaves sigh of relief* Thanks. Now, the problem is that I had to change my e-mail address and so I've lost most of my reviews on all my stories. Please don't let this stop you from reviewing this chapter. I've got it all under control now and I always do callouts on my stories. I live for reviews! They are my rum!
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Kathleen blinked her eyes as she tried to adjust them to the sudden brightness that had filled the room. She realized with a start that she was laying in a bed. A rather comfortable bed, actually. It didn't take her much longer, however, to realize that she was only in her undergarments. She turned red with anger at the thought of some horrible pirate stripping her down. She began to get up to look for her dress, but was unceremoniously pushed back down.
"You need to stay right where you are," said a voice.
Surprised to hear a feminine voice, Kathleen looked up to see a woman not much bigger than herself. She wore a man's shirt and a pair of black breeches. Her black hair was pulled away from her face and she was looking at Kathleen with something that could be called concern.
"Who are you?" Kathleen asked.
"Anamaria. I've been sittin' down here with you since the captain brought you in. Fowler must've hit you pretty hard. You've been out for three hours."
"My head hurts."
"Really? Can't imagine why," came the rather sarcastic reply. Then the tone softened again. "It'll hurt for a while, Katie."
"Who's Katie?"
"That's what the captain said your name was."
"Well, he was wrong. My name's Kathleen."
"Oh. Well, Katie, I gotta go get the captain and tell him you're awake. There's some clothes over there."
She was gone before Kathleen could protest being called 'Katie' again. Kathleen looked in the direction Anamaria had indicated and caught sight of a pair of grubby tan breeches and a sort of white shirt draped over a nearby chair. She eyed their rather unclean state with distaste Ignoring the splitting pain in her head, she bolted out of the bed and grabbed her dress, which had been hanging on an opposite wall. She cursed the impossible buttons and hooks, using language she hadn't used for nearly fourteen years. Reluctantly, she began to put on the shirt and breeches Anamaria had left for her.
Just as she had finished buttoning the shirt, there was a knock on the door. Kathleen blinked in surprise. Pirates knocked? Since when?
"Wh-Who is it?" Well, that was a stupid question. Apparently, the person outside the door thought so as well.
"I'm the bloody king of England. Let me in."
As irritated as she was with herself for asking such a dumb question, she was even more irritated by the response. She crossed the room to the door and flung it open.
"Temper, temper," said the man who stood before her. He grinned at her maddeningly.
"I am not accustomed to being treated so rudely," she replied. He laughed as he pushed past her and into the cabin.
"I don't recall inviting you in," she continued, with the dismal realization that her haughty manners were having no effect on him whatsoever.
"I don't recall you puttin' up much of a fight when I brought you in here earlier, luv."
She didn't know how to counter that and the man took advantage of the opportunity as he pulled an apple out of a pocket in his coat and sat down on the bed, chewing it thoughtfully.
"In fact," he continued, "you didn't put up a fight at all."
This was said with another grin and, to Kathleen's horror, a sly wink. With a shock, she realized that she didn't remember anything after standing up in that tiny cabin and then blacking out again. Had something happened with this-this-thing sitting in front of her?
"Rest easy, luv. Your virtue is intact," he finally said after what seemed like an eternity of silence. Kathleen let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding and the pirate looked somewhat insulted.
"You don't have to act like it would have been the end of the world, Miss High and Mighty. Many lasses I've known would've given anythin' to be in your shoes today."
"Just who do you think you are, talking to me like that?"
The pirate rose and gave a slight bow which Kathleen grudgingly admitted was rather graceful.
"Captain Jack Sparrow, Terror of the Caribbean."
"Well, Mr. Sparrow,"
"Captain," he interrupted her. She looked at him uncomprehendingly. He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Why do I always have to go over this twice?" he asked the ceiling. Kathleen was quite sure he had lost his mind.
"The name's Captain Jack Sparrow," he repeated, putting emphasis on the 'Captain'. Kathleen saw her chance and took it.
"Oh. Very well then, 'Captain'. As long as we're on the subject of names, I'd appreciate it if you got mine right. My name is not Katie. It's Kathleen. And, to you, it's Mrs. Thomas."
"Missus? Ah, so you're married. May I ask where your husband is? No doubt cursing the crew of the ship you were on and vowing to get you back."
Did the man have no tact at all? Had he not been able to see that she had been completely dressed in black?
"My husband is dead, Mr. Sparrow. Six months ago."
Was it her imagination or did she actually see sympathy in those eyes? Those eyes were rather nice, actually. Wait. What was she thinking? What was wrong with her? What was he saying?
"My apologies, Mrs. Thomas."
She really hadn't been hurt by his remark. If she had loved Edward, or if he had loved her, the pirate's statement might have caused her pain. But she hadn't loved Edward. She hadn't even liked Edward. And to him she had been nothing more than a prize. But appearances had to be kept. How she hated 'keeping up appearances'.
"Thank you, Captain Sparrow," she replied, relenting a little. After all, the man had saved her from his crew member and had been kind enough to give her bedding in his cabin. For this was obviously his cabin. It was too finely decorated to belong to just any crew member.
Jack, meanwhile, had been watching this woman closely since his entrance. His outside appearance often threw people off long enough for him to surmise what sort of person they were. It had worked with Will, it had worked with Elizabeth. And it was working with this woman. For instance, he could see right away that she wasn't born into high society, though her clothing had certainly looked the part. Her high and mighty manner just seemed to fake. It was as if she were trying to repress a part of herself. He had seen the same thing with Elizabeth, though this woman was much better at it.
"What are your intentions, 'Captain' Sparrow?" she finally inquired after an awkward silence. Jack looked at her in surprise. Well, she did get right to the point. Alright, then. An honest question deserved an honest answer.
"I don't know, luv," he sighed. "I haven't decided, yet." He grinned at her again before leaving his position by the bed and crossing the cabin until his face was inches from hers.
"I've a few ideas, though," he whispered. Kathleen's eyes went wide and, though her mind screamed at her to slap the offending pirate away, she stood as if frozen solid. Jack, who had been anticipating a slap or at least a biting remark, drew back when none were forthcoming.
"You'll stay in here until I've had a word with me crew," he continued, his voice suddenly taking on a businesslike tone. Kathleen stared at him, irritated that she was being ordered around and even more irritated by the fact that there was nothing she could do about it. Jack looked at her, one eyebrow raised as he concentrated on her expression. She would be an interesting challenge, sure enough. Nearly impossible to tell what this one was thinking.
"I'll be sure to let you know when we decide what to do with you," he finished. He gave another bow and swiftly left the cabin.
Kathleen wandered over to one of the windows in the cabin and looked out upon the endless expanse of the blue ocean. For the first time in a long time she was frightened. And for the first time in a long time, she began to speak words she hadn't spoken since she was a child.
"Ar n-athair, ata ar neamh: go naofar d'ainm. Go dtaga do riocht. Go ndeantar do thoil ar an talamh, mar dheantar ar neamh..."
As she continued, she felt her fear ebbing further and further away, her own lilting voice bringing comfort to her heart. She was not in danger, of that she was now sure. Somehow, she couldn't bring herself to believe that this particular pirate would ever harm her.
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A/N: No, I'm not trying to work Elvish into the story. I swear! Honest! Kathleen is Irish, born and raised, and that will come into play later on. The above quote is the beginning of 'The Lord's Prayer' in Irish Gaelic. For anyone who speaks or understands Gaelic, I realize my quote isn't exactly correct. But I can't figure out how to get this darn keyboard to type accents. *Glares at keyboard*. My apologies if it irritates you.
Disclaimer: Don't own it, so don't sue me.
Vicki: You were my first reviewer! As a prize, I present you with-----a bottle of rum! Sorry, I know that was silly, but I just seem to be in that sort of mood today.
Fadryn: You don't like Kathleen? I don't blame you. She's been a bit wishy-washy so far, hasn't she? Don't worry, I'll make her all better.
Mayya: Hello! Thank you for the review. I hope this update is soon enough for you.
DaydreamBeliever14: I'm glad you like my story. By the way, love your name.
Sarla: You had me going there for a minute. I thought I was being flamed! Glad you like the story. You say Captain Jack Sparrow would be proud? *blushes* Do you think he'd be proud enough for a personal visit? *wink wink, nudge nudge* No? I didn't think so either. Oh, well.
A/N (again): I'm sorry if you reviewed the last chapter and didn't get a call-out! It's nothing personal! No, wait! Let me explain! Don't click the back button yet! *heaves sigh of relief* Thanks. Now, the problem is that I had to change my e-mail address and so I've lost most of my reviews on all my stories. Please don't let this stop you from reviewing this chapter. I've got it all under control now and I always do callouts on my stories. I live for reviews! They are my rum!
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Kathleen blinked her eyes as she tried to adjust them to the sudden brightness that had filled the room. She realized with a start that she was laying in a bed. A rather comfortable bed, actually. It didn't take her much longer, however, to realize that she was only in her undergarments. She turned red with anger at the thought of some horrible pirate stripping her down. She began to get up to look for her dress, but was unceremoniously pushed back down.
"You need to stay right where you are," said a voice.
Surprised to hear a feminine voice, Kathleen looked up to see a woman not much bigger than herself. She wore a man's shirt and a pair of black breeches. Her black hair was pulled away from her face and she was looking at Kathleen with something that could be called concern.
"Who are you?" Kathleen asked.
"Anamaria. I've been sittin' down here with you since the captain brought you in. Fowler must've hit you pretty hard. You've been out for three hours."
"My head hurts."
"Really? Can't imagine why," came the rather sarcastic reply. Then the tone softened again. "It'll hurt for a while, Katie."
"Who's Katie?"
"That's what the captain said your name was."
"Well, he was wrong. My name's Kathleen."
"Oh. Well, Katie, I gotta go get the captain and tell him you're awake. There's some clothes over there."
She was gone before Kathleen could protest being called 'Katie' again. Kathleen looked in the direction Anamaria had indicated and caught sight of a pair of grubby tan breeches and a sort of white shirt draped over a nearby chair. She eyed their rather unclean state with distaste Ignoring the splitting pain in her head, she bolted out of the bed and grabbed her dress, which had been hanging on an opposite wall. She cursed the impossible buttons and hooks, using language she hadn't used for nearly fourteen years. Reluctantly, she began to put on the shirt and breeches Anamaria had left for her.
Just as she had finished buttoning the shirt, there was a knock on the door. Kathleen blinked in surprise. Pirates knocked? Since when?
"Wh-Who is it?" Well, that was a stupid question. Apparently, the person outside the door thought so as well.
"I'm the bloody king of England. Let me in."
As irritated as she was with herself for asking such a dumb question, she was even more irritated by the response. She crossed the room to the door and flung it open.
"Temper, temper," said the man who stood before her. He grinned at her maddeningly.
"I am not accustomed to being treated so rudely," she replied. He laughed as he pushed past her and into the cabin.
"I don't recall inviting you in," she continued, with the dismal realization that her haughty manners were having no effect on him whatsoever.
"I don't recall you puttin' up much of a fight when I brought you in here earlier, luv."
She didn't know how to counter that and the man took advantage of the opportunity as he pulled an apple out of a pocket in his coat and sat down on the bed, chewing it thoughtfully.
"In fact," he continued, "you didn't put up a fight at all."
This was said with another grin and, to Kathleen's horror, a sly wink. With a shock, she realized that she didn't remember anything after standing up in that tiny cabin and then blacking out again. Had something happened with this-this-thing sitting in front of her?
"Rest easy, luv. Your virtue is intact," he finally said after what seemed like an eternity of silence. Kathleen let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding and the pirate looked somewhat insulted.
"You don't have to act like it would have been the end of the world, Miss High and Mighty. Many lasses I've known would've given anythin' to be in your shoes today."
"Just who do you think you are, talking to me like that?"
The pirate rose and gave a slight bow which Kathleen grudgingly admitted was rather graceful.
"Captain Jack Sparrow, Terror of the Caribbean."
"Well, Mr. Sparrow,"
"Captain," he interrupted her. She looked at him uncomprehendingly. He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Why do I always have to go over this twice?" he asked the ceiling. Kathleen was quite sure he had lost his mind.
"The name's Captain Jack Sparrow," he repeated, putting emphasis on the 'Captain'. Kathleen saw her chance and took it.
"Oh. Very well then, 'Captain'. As long as we're on the subject of names, I'd appreciate it if you got mine right. My name is not Katie. It's Kathleen. And, to you, it's Mrs. Thomas."
"Missus? Ah, so you're married. May I ask where your husband is? No doubt cursing the crew of the ship you were on and vowing to get you back."
Did the man have no tact at all? Had he not been able to see that she had been completely dressed in black?
"My husband is dead, Mr. Sparrow. Six months ago."
Was it her imagination or did she actually see sympathy in those eyes? Those eyes were rather nice, actually. Wait. What was she thinking? What was wrong with her? What was he saying?
"My apologies, Mrs. Thomas."
She really hadn't been hurt by his remark. If she had loved Edward, or if he had loved her, the pirate's statement might have caused her pain. But she hadn't loved Edward. She hadn't even liked Edward. And to him she had been nothing more than a prize. But appearances had to be kept. How she hated 'keeping up appearances'.
"Thank you, Captain Sparrow," she replied, relenting a little. After all, the man had saved her from his crew member and had been kind enough to give her bedding in his cabin. For this was obviously his cabin. It was too finely decorated to belong to just any crew member.
Jack, meanwhile, had been watching this woman closely since his entrance. His outside appearance often threw people off long enough for him to surmise what sort of person they were. It had worked with Will, it had worked with Elizabeth. And it was working with this woman. For instance, he could see right away that she wasn't born into high society, though her clothing had certainly looked the part. Her high and mighty manner just seemed to fake. It was as if she were trying to repress a part of herself. He had seen the same thing with Elizabeth, though this woman was much better at it.
"What are your intentions, 'Captain' Sparrow?" she finally inquired after an awkward silence. Jack looked at her in surprise. Well, she did get right to the point. Alright, then. An honest question deserved an honest answer.
"I don't know, luv," he sighed. "I haven't decided, yet." He grinned at her again before leaving his position by the bed and crossing the cabin until his face was inches from hers.
"I've a few ideas, though," he whispered. Kathleen's eyes went wide and, though her mind screamed at her to slap the offending pirate away, she stood as if frozen solid. Jack, who had been anticipating a slap or at least a biting remark, drew back when none were forthcoming.
"You'll stay in here until I've had a word with me crew," he continued, his voice suddenly taking on a businesslike tone. Kathleen stared at him, irritated that she was being ordered around and even more irritated by the fact that there was nothing she could do about it. Jack looked at her, one eyebrow raised as he concentrated on her expression. She would be an interesting challenge, sure enough. Nearly impossible to tell what this one was thinking.
"I'll be sure to let you know when we decide what to do with you," he finished. He gave another bow and swiftly left the cabin.
Kathleen wandered over to one of the windows in the cabin and looked out upon the endless expanse of the blue ocean. For the first time in a long time she was frightened. And for the first time in a long time, she began to speak words she hadn't spoken since she was a child.
"Ar n-athair, ata ar neamh: go naofar d'ainm. Go dtaga do riocht. Go ndeantar do thoil ar an talamh, mar dheantar ar neamh..."
As she continued, she felt her fear ebbing further and further away, her own lilting voice bringing comfort to her heart. She was not in danger, of that she was now sure. Somehow, she couldn't bring herself to believe that this particular pirate would ever harm her.
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A/N: No, I'm not trying to work Elvish into the story. I swear! Honest! Kathleen is Irish, born and raised, and that will come into play later on. The above quote is the beginning of 'The Lord's Prayer' in Irish Gaelic. For anyone who speaks or understands Gaelic, I realize my quote isn't exactly correct. But I can't figure out how to get this darn keyboard to type accents. *Glares at keyboard*. My apologies if it irritates you.