Title: Swimming Above The Sharks

Disclaimer: I'm only borrowing these two characters. Technically, they're Disney's property…which sucks. But because they're sub-canon characters, Disney wont notice if I steal them for a while…Mwa ha ha ha…!

ANY OTHER CHARACTER IS MINE!

Summary: Mallot and Grapple discover themselves stranded, accidentally marooned, and with a hell of a lot of gold. That and Mallot intelligently points out they're not cursed any more.

Notes:  I like Captain Dubow. Actually, I adore his moustache more then anything else…He's based on my uncle, who acts indignant but has the best sense of humour I've ever encountered. Woot!

Chapter Twelve: Mutual Diagnose

The ship, they learned, wasn't like a normal ship. The decks were always dry, and everything was in order. Crewmembers scrubbed, it seemed, for only moments before the decks gleamed. It wasn't especially rowdy like other freebooter ships they had been on. There wasn't any songs being song to lively up the work, and no music was being played. It was to prim, to proper…to abnormal!

The two pirates slowly climbed down the steps, trying to take as much time as they could before visiting the doctor, who also was the cook. Cooks, when forced into medical positions, found amputations a lot more handy then trying to do anything to save the limb, and Grapple was in a rather poor predicament. The last step creaked loudly and they both winced visibly.

"Who's there?" a British accent rang out, thick yet urban. The two pirates pushed the door at the bottom of the staircase open and viewed into a dimly lighted room, where covered lanterns shielded candles illuminated the wooden mess hall. There were two long wooden tables stretching across the room, with long benches running alongside them. The walls were wooden and plan, and a few small windows in circular shapes were scattered amongst them.


A small, balding man wearing a rather well-kept grey jacket with large silver sleeves, black breeches and buckled shoes, was cowering up against the furthest back wall, brandishing a frying pan at them. "Stay back!" he cried, his voice trembling. It became apparent he was indeed not a cook, and a licensed doctor.


"S'all right, we can't exactly kill y'eh right now," Mallot admitted, setting down his name-sake weapon to prove his point. He raised an eyebrow and waved his right arm slowly when the cowering man didn't relax at all.

"Y-you fiends! I demand you bring me back to Port Mackey! Immediately!" he spluttered.

"You're Doctor Robin, then?" Grapple asked, using his good arm to shift the grapple in his sash and belt a bit to the side, so a blunted griffe wasn't poking into his chest.
"I am! Robin Collie! And I was kidnapped! I want to go home, now!" Robin demanded. The pirates exchanged a glance and burst out into laughter. Infuriated, the doctor strutted forward, red with embarrassment.

"How dare you?!" he roared. Grapple abruptly stopped laughing, yet Mallot carried on, his eyes starting to tear up. The doctor halted, pointing an accusing finger at the hysterical pirate, still holding the cooking pan. "I demand you stop, rapscallion!"


Robin didn't know exactly what had happened, but he found his arm pinned behind his back, and a very hot, cooked and damaged arm wrapped tightly around his neck, the larger of the two offenders behind him.
"Watch yore tongue or I'll cut it out! Got that?" Grapple growled lowly, and the doctor nodded quickly in response. Suddenly, he was tossed forward and nearly thrown into the edge of the table. Behind him, Mallot's laughing slowed to a stop.

"Now then," Grapple said, his voice calmer then before, and he extended his burnt arm. "What d'you think of this?"

"Burned, third degree…" Robin said timidly, gently poking the skin around the open wound where the stained bone was slightly visible. Hastily backing up and expecting Trevor to lash out, he was surprised when the pirate barely winced. Slowly edging forward, he took hold of the limb and ushered Trevor to the back of the room, and sat the pirate down, Mallot following like some pathetic street mutt.

"This, gentlemen," Robin pointed to a green plant with odd tendrils sticking out in all directions, speckled with white and small spikes growing from the edges of the arms, "Is an Aloe plant. It will help sooth the burn and heal it."

"How's that goin' to help Grapple?" Mallot inquired sceptically. Robin chuckled lightly, as though glad he was more knowledgeable about something then the other men.

The doctor took hold of one of the plant's arms and cracked it at the base. Drawing the separated part away, he broke it open and folded back the plant's folds. A thick, clear, sap started oozing over his hands, and he slapped the juicy side of the leaf down on Grapple's arm. The pirate gave a grumble of dislike yet let the doctor smear it over his arm.

Eleven minutes later, more then half of the Aloe plant was decimated, and its long, spiky leaves were scattered around the floor, either sucked dry of their sap or completely covered in their own sticky goo. Grapple's arm was covered in the slim, some parts still damp, others bone dry, but all in all, his skin was sticky and he was uncomfortable.
"Heals, and tastes alright!" Mallot proclaimed, nibbling on the end of one of the leaves as he sat comfortably on the end of a bench beside a table. The doctor grimaced and made a disgusted face as Grapple chuckled and sighed amusedly, "Aw, Hell, Mallot…" However, before the doctor could say anything, Jonathan leaned forward and giving him a sneer, related how he had survived off of eating rats for a week.

"Disgusting, pirates are!" Collie exclaimed, taking out some bandages and starting to wrap Grapple's arm around the gash.

"I doubt my father'd be happy to 'ear that comment, doctor," a female voice said from the doorway, slick and calm. Zafira flicked her braid over her should where it rested over her back, and strutted into the mess hall.
"You must be the maroonies we picked up," she sneered superiorly at them, and lightly stepped over Mallot's abandoned mallet. She sat down on the edge of the table, and looked down at them all, before eyeing Mallot with an odd look of detest. Then, unexpectedly, she snatched the hat off of his head and started inspecting it.

"Oy!" Jonathan snapped, swiping at the hand that clutched the tri-corn, yet missed. Zafira waved a finger at him teasingly and giggled.


"We weren't marooned, we were caught in a storm," Grapple responded, gingerly poking at his arm and wincing as a small amount of puss that oozed slowly out of one of the curled and scabbed pieces of flesh damaged on his arm, the white bandage covering it becoming slightly yellow in that spot. Zafira make a retching sound and stuck her tongue out halfway as she looked at his arm.



"What about you, why're you 'ere?" she kicked Mallot's side painfully with the toes of her left boot, leaning forward and cocking her head to glare at the pirate. Mallot glared right back, and tried to snatch back his hat, again missing. Pulling back as though she was taking a swipe at him, he winced at his back and grumbled.

"I'm-Hey!" Mallot began to answer; yet Robin Collie had slid over to him and began poking his arm. He rolled the pirate's sleeve up and pinched the skin, and withdrew, watching intently. Then, he felt the pirate's forehead (wincing visibly at the greasy strands of hair that clumped and got in the way) with the back of his hand, and shook his head. After a moment of considering Mallot, he clasped his hand and waited a minute.


"You're dehydrated. Severely, might I add? So is your brother."

"Brother?!" Zafira said, slightly intrigued yet sounded almost disgusted. The two men looked at the doctor, who smiled cheerfully.
"You both look similar, and I doubted your names were completely coincidence."

"So what are your names, eh, boys?" Zafira inquired casually, spreading her knees apart and swinging her legs back and forth.

"He's Ralph and I'm Fred," Mallot replied sarcastically. Zafira rolled her eyes and gave an exasperated sigh.

"I'm Grapple, and my brother is Mallot. Yore name would be…?" Grapple answered and asked all at once. Zafira sneered savagely.

"Zafira Dubow!"
"Mistress of the cap'n?" Mallot inquired innocently. Zafira shook her head.

"Daughter."

"Oh…" came the breathless reply from the now hatless freebooter. Then, "Can I have my hat back?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Damn it!"

"Language, mister Mallot."

"I hate you already."

"The feeling is mutual." 

~*~