Disclaimer: I'm only going to say this once: If I owned any of this I'd be writing myself into a role in PotC 2 that allowed me to constantly make out with Johnny.
Note: This is my first fanfic and it's late at night so if it's crap please excuse it. I tried to imitate Johnny/Jack's accent as best I could, so if you are having trouble translating I'm sorry.
Before she even opened her eyes, Ara was thinking. Damn. I failed, didn't I. Must have or I wouldn't be unconscious now would I? Ok, don't move, but where's your pistol? She couldn't feel its familiar weight at her side. Crap. Just open your eyes. See how screwed you are.
Opening her eyes she realized instantly that she was in a captain's cabin, nicer even than her own. Unable to discern anything, she knew she had to lift her head. Sighing, she sat up. The first thing she saw was a man. A pirate undoubtedly. Long dark bead filled hair. Was that a bone? The man was leaning over a small table, looking at maps Ara assumed.
"Alright, I know, you know I'm awake, so where are you taking me and where am I, precisely?" she asked calmly.
He looked up. "I'm not takin' you anywhere, luv. However, I am headed south and you are on my ship. So," he looked back down at his maps, "if you want to think of it as me taking you somewhere, I'm all for it, mate. Won't do you much good though."
Ara started to sit up, using the motion to cover her hand moving toward the dagger hidden under her sleeve. "Well, if you're no' taking me somewhere, why am I here? Why haven' you jus' killed me?"
He looked up, his dark eyes penetrating hers. "Are you lookin' for this, luv? It's beautiful." He held up her dagger.
Ara's eyes widened, but she smiled. "You're Captain Jack Sparrow aren't you?"
"Neither of us can jus' answer a question can we? But yes, I am Captain Jack Sparrow."
"Then this would be the Black Pearl, I suppose. Nice. Nicer than mine. But then, that's no' difficult, seeing as how she's now at the bottom of the ocean. Thanks to you."
"Thanks to me."
"Do you plan to rape me, Cap'n Sparrow?"
This question took him off guard.
"Rape? No. I just thought wiv some alcohol to warm your blood you might no' mind. It's no' rape to the willing."
"Well if you can get some alcohol in me to warm my blood I'll begin to consider it."
A few hours later they were both thoroughly drunk.
"The problem is, Cap'n Sparrow," Ara said, "either we'll run out of rum or you'll pass out. I'm afraid I can hold my rum be'er than you can."
"Because clearly you know me so well, miss," the captain slurred back.
"I know you from rumors, Cap'n."
He only laughed and leaned towards her. "And what should I do with you, luv. I'm leanin' toward bein' nice and droppin' ya off in Tortuga, but that's against my better judgment, really. I suppose I could—"he stopped to take a swig of rum—"throw ya overboard, but that's no' very nice…" He fell off of his chair onto the floor, unconscious.
Unphased, Ara took another swig from her own bottle of rum. So easy, she thought. He's supposed to be this big bad pirate, bu' 'e isn't. Pro'ably go' a soft crew, too. I could just walk out of here, grab a jolly boat an' row to shore. We weren't far off when I was captured…But you don't know where you are now, the intelligent part of her said.
"We've sighted shore, Cap'n," a man with huge sideburns and remarkable resemblance to a badger said, coming into the room. He stopped, seeing the captain lying on the floor and the calm woman drinking at the table. "Oh," was all he said. "Well, that happens, doesn't it?"
"What shore is it tha' you've sighted Mister…"
"Gibbs, and Tortuga."
"Ah, Mr. Gibbs. Tortuga…well, doesn' that sound like i's righ' out of a fan fiction. Tell me, does the Cap'n ever go anywhere else?"