A/N: Here is chapter (nine?) of the Crossing.
K. Sparrow: You. Are. Very. Twisted. THEY ARE THIRTEEN!
"Um, Elizabeth, what are you doing?" I asked carefully. She had a bottle of rum in each hand and a slightly manic gleam in her eyes.
"I'm going to get Jack so drunk he can't stand up, then I will set the rum and trees on fire. The signal will be thousands of miles high. The entire Royal Navy is looking for me-"
"And chances are slim to none they won't notice it."
"Exactly."
"But how are you going to start the fire?" I smirked.
"I have absolutely no idea." I laughed at that, then called up two fireballs in my hands. Elizabeth rolled her eyes.
"Of course! Why didn't I think of that?"
"Because I'm a genius."
"Really?"
"No, sorry, I sadly do not qualify."
"Ri..."
"Okay, okay, I'll start a practice fire."
"Good."
(Meanwhile...)
"Ana Maria, do you know anything about the layout of the ship?" Aurora asked hopefully.
"Only the way we got in."
"Do you know if anyone does know?"
"Cotton."
"Anyone else?" Aurora's voice was pleading. The stupid parrot tried to bite her ear off, after all.
"Gibbs does."
"Thank you, now let me see to that arm." Aurora pulled fibers out of a gash in the woman's arm, muttering about mediocre bandages called bandanas.
Suddenly she looked up.
"Does anyone know how to pick locks?"
"Cotton does."
"What is he, Lugh the All-Crafted?"
"Who?"
"Never mind." Aurora sighed. She had read too many Diane Duane books, really, she had.
"Wind in the sails, wind in the sails!"
Aurora contemplated two things. How many ways she could kill the stupid bird, and how many ways she would kill the stupid bird.
Ack! I've been reading too many Amelia Atwater-Rhodes, as well.
"Wind in the sails, wind in the sails!"
The crew watched silently as the boot missed Cotton's parrot and hit Pintel in the head.