A/N: Wahoo, we've hit the big 1-0! And now for the moment you've all been
*really* waiting for!
I'm about to give up hope of ever finding Jack's hut, and possibly all human life, again as I'm tramping through the sweltering green of the island's interior. But then- what was that?- a flash of slightly brown green between two of the infinite number of leaves to be found in this godforsaken place. I scramble through the clinging growth with renewed energy and am almost at the hut before I realize I may want to be quiet if I intend to eavesdrop on Jack and Anamaria's conversation. Crouching low, I creep silently until I'm below a convenient window that was obviously made simply by cutting out parts of the planks that make up the wall. And I find my arrival is not a moment too soon as I peer around a corner of the hut to see Anamaria advancing on it with a very clear purpose.
"Captain!" she calls, "Come out here *now*!"
It's an order, she knows it and he knows it, but Jack still ambles slowly outside as if he can turn back any time, like he's letting her think she can order the great Captain Jack Sparrow around. It's when the echoes of her slap fade away that my careful observations about their relationship are tossed out of the proverbial window.
"Ya' always were a quick one, Anamaria. Never quite knew when ye' would strike wid *that* little specialty move," Jack grumbles, seeming weary instead of annoyed as he massages his cheek.
"Dat's because I only did it when ya' deserved it, Captain. Now, let's talk about exactly what ya' don't want to talk about, eh? Ye' got a very upset little girl wanderin' out on the beach, ya' know dat. Ye' also know it didn't have ta' go that way-"
"Of course I know! Don't ye' think I haven't wondered every bloody *day* what I'd do if she showed up? Let me tell ya', what jis' happened most definitely *wasn't* it. O' course, most o' my plans involved bein' able ta' see her face, but things didn't work out like that, did they, Ana?" His last three words are as sharp as a sword's edge, as full of meaning, too. Anamaria balks, but rallies.
"Don't tell me yer gonna hide behind what happened an' let her go again, wid'out a word between ya'? Dat's not the Captain Jack Sparrow I know-"
"Must I remind you, the Captain Jack Sparrow *you* know died six years ago, that's what I told the whole crew, *includin'* you!"
"Then why do ya' let me call ya' Captain?" Anamaria smiled and folded her arms in front of her triumphantly as Jack mulled over the question, coming up empty-handed.
There is a silence for a few moments. I wish I could see Jack's face, I probably would be less confused as I watch him walk back into the hut quicker than I'd have thought blind people would dare to walk. I carefully peek over the window's sill of sorts to see Jack calmly rummaging around the cabin, his hands running over the one table, his bed, the wall as reference between thorough pillaging of certain areas. I find myself ducking down as he nears the window, my heart beating in my chest and my eyes squeezed shut like he would actually see the top of my head if it pokes out above the sill. The noise changes from the sounds of searching to quiet footsteps and the movement of a chair in use, apparently Jack's found what he was looking for.
"Come in, Swallow," Jack says from somewhere inside the hut. My eyes fly open, but I don't move. "Come now, don't be shy," he continues, "Nothin' ta' fear from ol' Uncle Jack. Got a present fer ya', as a matter o' fact."
I stand slowly until I'm framed by the window. I see Jack sitting at the table in a corner of the hut, facing me. His hand is laid on a small object on the table, covering it. He's waiting, smirking ever so slightly. I swallow nervously, but then berate myself. What's wrong with me? Why'd I act so big and tough before, only to turn into a fearful child now, of all times? Taking a firm breath, I stride around the hut and through the door, past Anamaria who is leaning against the wall outside. I drop into a chair across from Jack, whose smirk widens into a grin.
"Tha's more like it," he says quietly, "Well, luv, ye' have made it this far, I'd like ta' hear the tale."
I barely blink, but launch into the story. I tell him everything, finding the letters, coming to Tortuga, even how miserable I was with Will and Elizabeth. He takes it all in, sometimes laughing at the more entertaining bits, sometimes frowning at the more serious bits, but never interrupting. I end by telling him about my other mission, collecting the mermaid's ransom. I expect him to scold me just like the rest, tell me to go home and forget this foolishness, but Jack does nothing of the kind. He smiles, a true smile, not a smirk, not a grin, and says, "If yer any blood o' mine ye' should be able ta' use this wid'out any trouble." He slides what was under his hand, which turns out to be a small, weather-beaten box, across the table. Opening it, I see what may at one time have been a compass.
"This is broken," I say flatly.
Jack looks momentarily frustrated, like I should have gotten it immediately. Then his face changes to that of a teacher dealing with an exceptionally thick child, "Tha' doesn't matter. If you're any kin o' mine, it'll guide ye' straight."
"But how?" I cry, now *feeling* like an exceptionally thick child, "It's broken! Where'd ya' get this hunk of junk?"
Jack looks for a second like he may snatch the decrepit navigational tool from my hands, but he changes again, this time looking reminiscent. "Got it from some girl, long time ago. In... wait, where was it?"
"Tortuga?" I offer.
Jack curls his lip like I just said something distasteful. Thinking on our mutual encounters with the pirate city, maybe I'm not far off. "Nah, not Tortuga... Singapore! Yes, Singapore... wait, no! Not Singapore, but close to it." Jack stares sightlessly into the distance, reaching with his mind for the lost memory of a girl not from Singapore with a gift just for him, "An island- kinda stumbled 'pon it, wasn't even on the map!"
My ears prick, "You don't say?"
"Aye, seriously! She said it'd never steer me wrong and only I an' my blood kin could use it. To all others, nothin' but a busted ol' compass."
We both stare at the ancient box in my hands, and the wheels of my mind start turning again. Thoughts of blue water and bright sky and piles of gleaming gold float among the gears. "Thanks Jack."
He doesn't say anything, but puts his hands palm up on the table. Instinctually, I place my hands palm up in his. He pushes them together, so that between his my hands are in a prayer-like position. His head falls forward in the slightest of bows over our hands as he says, "Yer welcome, Swallow."
A/N: I am a genius. Quick, somebody put me on a stamp! But really, I actually wrote that bit with the compass *ages* ago, and didn't so much as glance at it until yesterday, when I realized, "Holy crap! I've already written my Guinn/Jack conversation!" Well, after that I saw no point in delaying writing this chapter, hence this chapter coming so early and being so short. To the lights of my life, the reviewers:
Calex: Oh yes, there is a great difference between evil and wicked. Hope you don't think I'm too much of either with this short chapter. Really glad you li- loved the last one, I was a little worried about it. I think I'll let you decide just how much genetics is shared between Guinn and Jack, and just how much emotion is shared between Guinn and Pete. Thanks for the encouragement, keep reading!
hummer: Newbie! Nice to see ya', glad to have ya'. In answer to your question, why yes of course I had to leave it there! You know all ff.net authors are really torture masters in disguise, j/k. Hope you liked this chapter, hope to see you next one!
Andraaia Taka-Ichi: Glad you like it so far, keep reading!
Fire Pixie: My dear, do you know how much encouragement your reviews give me? If you don't, know it now: TONS. Guinn's unpredictable? Oh, that's the nicest thing anyone's ever said about one of my characters! Sorry this chapter is even shorter than the last, but you must admit with all the milestones we've been zipping by with Jack and everything, I figure quality is better than quantity. See ya' next chapter!
I'm about to give up hope of ever finding Jack's hut, and possibly all human life, again as I'm tramping through the sweltering green of the island's interior. But then- what was that?- a flash of slightly brown green between two of the infinite number of leaves to be found in this godforsaken place. I scramble through the clinging growth with renewed energy and am almost at the hut before I realize I may want to be quiet if I intend to eavesdrop on Jack and Anamaria's conversation. Crouching low, I creep silently until I'm below a convenient window that was obviously made simply by cutting out parts of the planks that make up the wall. And I find my arrival is not a moment too soon as I peer around a corner of the hut to see Anamaria advancing on it with a very clear purpose.
"Captain!" she calls, "Come out here *now*!"
It's an order, she knows it and he knows it, but Jack still ambles slowly outside as if he can turn back any time, like he's letting her think she can order the great Captain Jack Sparrow around. It's when the echoes of her slap fade away that my careful observations about their relationship are tossed out of the proverbial window.
"Ya' always were a quick one, Anamaria. Never quite knew when ye' would strike wid *that* little specialty move," Jack grumbles, seeming weary instead of annoyed as he massages his cheek.
"Dat's because I only did it when ya' deserved it, Captain. Now, let's talk about exactly what ya' don't want to talk about, eh? Ye' got a very upset little girl wanderin' out on the beach, ya' know dat. Ye' also know it didn't have ta' go that way-"
"Of course I know! Don't ye' think I haven't wondered every bloody *day* what I'd do if she showed up? Let me tell ya', what jis' happened most definitely *wasn't* it. O' course, most o' my plans involved bein' able ta' see her face, but things didn't work out like that, did they, Ana?" His last three words are as sharp as a sword's edge, as full of meaning, too. Anamaria balks, but rallies.
"Don't tell me yer gonna hide behind what happened an' let her go again, wid'out a word between ya'? Dat's not the Captain Jack Sparrow I know-"
"Must I remind you, the Captain Jack Sparrow *you* know died six years ago, that's what I told the whole crew, *includin'* you!"
"Then why do ya' let me call ya' Captain?" Anamaria smiled and folded her arms in front of her triumphantly as Jack mulled over the question, coming up empty-handed.
There is a silence for a few moments. I wish I could see Jack's face, I probably would be less confused as I watch him walk back into the hut quicker than I'd have thought blind people would dare to walk. I carefully peek over the window's sill of sorts to see Jack calmly rummaging around the cabin, his hands running over the one table, his bed, the wall as reference between thorough pillaging of certain areas. I find myself ducking down as he nears the window, my heart beating in my chest and my eyes squeezed shut like he would actually see the top of my head if it pokes out above the sill. The noise changes from the sounds of searching to quiet footsteps and the movement of a chair in use, apparently Jack's found what he was looking for.
"Come in, Swallow," Jack says from somewhere inside the hut. My eyes fly open, but I don't move. "Come now, don't be shy," he continues, "Nothin' ta' fear from ol' Uncle Jack. Got a present fer ya', as a matter o' fact."
I stand slowly until I'm framed by the window. I see Jack sitting at the table in a corner of the hut, facing me. His hand is laid on a small object on the table, covering it. He's waiting, smirking ever so slightly. I swallow nervously, but then berate myself. What's wrong with me? Why'd I act so big and tough before, only to turn into a fearful child now, of all times? Taking a firm breath, I stride around the hut and through the door, past Anamaria who is leaning against the wall outside. I drop into a chair across from Jack, whose smirk widens into a grin.
"Tha's more like it," he says quietly, "Well, luv, ye' have made it this far, I'd like ta' hear the tale."
I barely blink, but launch into the story. I tell him everything, finding the letters, coming to Tortuga, even how miserable I was with Will and Elizabeth. He takes it all in, sometimes laughing at the more entertaining bits, sometimes frowning at the more serious bits, but never interrupting. I end by telling him about my other mission, collecting the mermaid's ransom. I expect him to scold me just like the rest, tell me to go home and forget this foolishness, but Jack does nothing of the kind. He smiles, a true smile, not a smirk, not a grin, and says, "If yer any blood o' mine ye' should be able ta' use this wid'out any trouble." He slides what was under his hand, which turns out to be a small, weather-beaten box, across the table. Opening it, I see what may at one time have been a compass.
"This is broken," I say flatly.
Jack looks momentarily frustrated, like I should have gotten it immediately. Then his face changes to that of a teacher dealing with an exceptionally thick child, "Tha' doesn't matter. If you're any kin o' mine, it'll guide ye' straight."
"But how?" I cry, now *feeling* like an exceptionally thick child, "It's broken! Where'd ya' get this hunk of junk?"
Jack looks for a second like he may snatch the decrepit navigational tool from my hands, but he changes again, this time looking reminiscent. "Got it from some girl, long time ago. In... wait, where was it?"
"Tortuga?" I offer.
Jack curls his lip like I just said something distasteful. Thinking on our mutual encounters with the pirate city, maybe I'm not far off. "Nah, not Tortuga... Singapore! Yes, Singapore... wait, no! Not Singapore, but close to it." Jack stares sightlessly into the distance, reaching with his mind for the lost memory of a girl not from Singapore with a gift just for him, "An island- kinda stumbled 'pon it, wasn't even on the map!"
My ears prick, "You don't say?"
"Aye, seriously! She said it'd never steer me wrong and only I an' my blood kin could use it. To all others, nothin' but a busted ol' compass."
We both stare at the ancient box in my hands, and the wheels of my mind start turning again. Thoughts of blue water and bright sky and piles of gleaming gold float among the gears. "Thanks Jack."
He doesn't say anything, but puts his hands palm up on the table. Instinctually, I place my hands palm up in his. He pushes them together, so that between his my hands are in a prayer-like position. His head falls forward in the slightest of bows over our hands as he says, "Yer welcome, Swallow."
A/N: I am a genius. Quick, somebody put me on a stamp! But really, I actually wrote that bit with the compass *ages* ago, and didn't so much as glance at it until yesterday, when I realized, "Holy crap! I've already written my Guinn/Jack conversation!" Well, after that I saw no point in delaying writing this chapter, hence this chapter coming so early and being so short. To the lights of my life, the reviewers:
Calex: Oh yes, there is a great difference between evil and wicked. Hope you don't think I'm too much of either with this short chapter. Really glad you li- loved the last one, I was a little worried about it. I think I'll let you decide just how much genetics is shared between Guinn and Jack, and just how much emotion is shared between Guinn and Pete. Thanks for the encouragement, keep reading!
hummer: Newbie! Nice to see ya', glad to have ya'. In answer to your question, why yes of course I had to leave it there! You know all ff.net authors are really torture masters in disguise, j/k. Hope you liked this chapter, hope to see you next one!
Andraaia Taka-Ichi: Glad you like it so far, keep reading!
Fire Pixie: My dear, do you know how much encouragement your reviews give me? If you don't, know it now: TONS. Guinn's unpredictable? Oh, that's the nicest thing anyone's ever said about one of my characters! Sorry this chapter is even shorter than the last, but you must admit with all the milestones we've been zipping by with Jack and everything, I figure quality is better than quantity. See ya' next chapter!