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: …Mwa ha ha ha?

Chapter Thirteen: Storms

The encounter with Zafira had left Mallot in bad spirits, and he wasn't letting up in showing it. After Zafira gave him his hat back, he unfortunately lost his temper when the doctor gave him some water and knocked the poor man half way across the room with a strong punch to the stomach. After that, he had stormed back on deck, nearly shoved another sailor over board, and practically choked when he saw a sailor playing the accordion.

However, he had somehow separated himself from everybody else, and was now leaning over the stern railing, looking into the water. The ship had sailed for a while since the two brothers had left Rudagull (an encounter they would no doubt never forget), and the captain had set a course that the pirate didn't know where too. That fact made him uneasy, as did a lot of things aboard Son of Ramone.

Looking down into the water, he started as he felt something prod the back of his hat, and pushed it back up onto his head as he turned around to glare at the culprit. Zafira was standing right behind him, smirking rather sadistically and snickered, letting her hands loll on her wrists as she rose them to stomach height.
"Awfully jumpy, aren't you?"

"Nah. Can't jump high."

Zafira eyed him oddly for a moment with a raised brow before looking down at the mallet head resting at the side of his leg, the long handle leaning up against the gun wall.

"Well, not with ithat/i, I don't doubt."

Mallot rolled his eyes and turned his head, making a mocking impression of Zafira as he went, scrunching his face up and mouthing her words. However, she caught sight of it, and huffed indignantly.
"No need to be rude! I was just saying…" Zafira complained, crossing her arms over her ribs, letting her large dark blue sleeves fall limply. In fact, she was wearing all blue, except for her trousers, which were black in colour. Her single belt that went around her waist was on top of a tightly tied light blue sash. The silk scarf around her neck was a deep royal blue, and her shirt was a dark blue cotton shirt, laced up at the neck.

"Well say it to someone else, will yah? I don't have time for silly little girls…"

Zafira's face contorted into an outraged expression and she growled impatiently. However, her anger soon faded when she noticed his left hand moving. The first sign had been the creaking of the glove that was cladding it, the fingers cut out. She looked over to his right hand, which was resting on the rail, and noticed the same style of glove, the fingers tapping impatiently at the wood of the ship.

"Fidgety, to," she remarked, and he smirked, ignoring her otherwise by starting to softly hum a tune meant for easing the minds of a working crew.

"I know that song! Fifteen men on a-"

"Dead man's chest. Yo-"

"Ho ho and a bottle of rum!" Zafira completed after Mallot's interruption.

"What's goin' on o'er here?" Grapple's deep voice sounded out behind them and Zafira jumped noticeably, backing into Mallot, who protested by edging away. Grapple grinned and crossed his arms, tensing his arms so the muscles became more apparent, just for the sake of making the girl nervous. However, she didn't appear frightened at all.

"Don't you have some whore to flirt with elsewhere?" Zafira spat out, scowling at the pirate. However, Grapple gave her a slightly surprised frown.
"No," he answered, but his face turned into a grin. "I'm married."

"iWith/i, furthermore might I add, children," Mallot added, extending an index finger knowingly. Zafira's scowl relaxed and she seemed almost disappointed.
"No chance of flirting with you then?"

"No chance at all."

"Damn," Zafira smiled jokingly, yet wasn't able to say anything as suddenly a lively song started up across the deck, played by an accordion, a single fiddle, and quite a few voices blasting out.

"After eight then, mates! That means no lighted flames under decks, and you can stay out here if you want to join in on the drinking!" Zafira informed them. Mallot suddenly perked up considerably, looking hastily from her to the crowd.

"Drinking…?" he asked tentatively, a hint of longing in his voice.

"Rum, ale, beer, whatever. We'll be in Tortuga in no less then two days if we don't encounter a storm, so we're using it up before we restock. S'all old, skunky and what not."
"Fine with me!" Jonathan proclaimed, and pushed past Zafira roughly, walking towards the others.

"Aug. I don't like him," Zafira admitted to Grapple, who hung his head and chuckled quietly, so quietly that Zafira didn't even hear his laughter and presumed he was embarrassed of his sibling. Yet she continued, relating her detest for his brother.

"His manners are horrible, even for a pirate. And he's so protective of that worn out rag of a hat. He should consider a new weapon; a mallet is really inconvenient. Yes, and a new name…Is he married as well?"

"What?!" Grapple exclaimed, slightly confounded by her last question.

"Is he married? Like you?"

"Nah, nah, he's just an uncle and a terrible role model, at that. Yet the kiddies love him…"

Zafira raised an eyebrow before she started fiddling with her braid. She 'hmm'ed lightly and started off towards the din, leaving Grapple to stand and stare contently at the calm ocean without objections.

As she approached, she noticed Mallot already had a mug of rum in one of his hands, sitting on a crate and swinging his legs to the beat of the music being played. However, he was scowling as he swayed from side to side, and caught a glimpse of her as he took a sip of his beverage. He set the mug down on his left side and patted the small space on the crate to his right, starring right at her.

With a disgusted sound, she strutted forward and nearly pushed him off his seat as she sat down.

"Terrible, really, what your lot of musicians play. Back when I was on the Pearl…me an' Jacoby really played some good tunes!"

"The Pearl?"
"Black Pearl."

"I believe I've heard of it…at some time or another. Did your captain maroon you?"

"Er…" Mallot considered his answer as he hesitated. He didn't want to put out a bad image for him and his brother, yet admitting their ship had been taken down in a battle was even worse. "We got hit by a storm and washed overboard. Grapple told you already, I believe…"

Zafira grinned at him, flashing her teeth, and leaned over his lap. She snatched up his drink, and taking a sip for herself, gave him a look to do anything about it. The challenge was not accepted, and he merely snagged another drink from a hand as somebody came by.

"Think you're a better fiddler then Borrickle?"

"Who?"

"Borrickle. Our fiddler!" She sneered, and called out to a lanky man with the violin on his shoulder, bowing relatively calmly as he kept up with the mad notes from the accordion. "Oy, Borrickle! Get over 'ere!" she yelled.

The man stopped his song with a screech from the strings, wincing slightly at the horrible sound. The short, chubby man beside him halted his bashing of his instrument and watched as Borrickle ran a hand through his light brown hair and slowly got up.

He walked slowly over to Zafira as if expecting to be pushed over board, and was taken abruptly back when she grinned and patted him on the shoulder.

"Mally 'ere says 'e's a better fiddler then you," she indicated to Mallot with a lazy gesture, ignoring the pirate's growl at the pet name she had dubbed him.

"Naw, s'not possible! I'm the best thar is!" Borrickle boasted, and Zafira suddenly flicked his ear.
"If you're the best, I'd 'ate to see the worst." A few chuckles went out over the quiet onlookers. "Your good, sure, but not the greatest."

"If'n y'ah say so, marm," Borrickle looked down, his face flushed with red from embarrassment. He wasn't about to question the Captain's daughter.

"Well, Mally, you 'eard 'him playing before. You take 'is fiddle and let's 'ear what you got for us, eh?" Zafira grinned slyly, and Mallot merely shrugged. He accepted the violin pushed into his hand from Borrickle and took the bow. Gazing at it silently for a moment, he sighed.

"Rosin," he said, and was surprised to see a small brick pushed into his hand. Fumbling for a moment, he adopted an indignant look and spent the next seven minutes coating the bowstrings with the sticky sap. A few sailors grumbled impatiently and Zafira looked ready to kill him.

Grapple walked quietly over, and took a stance a few feet away from his brother, leaning against the barrel of a canon that was locked in place, pushed towards the gun wall. Tossing his ponytail back behind his shoulders where it had collected, he raised a brow and watched as Mallot continued to rosin up the bow.

"'Urry up!" Zafira complained, and halted abruptly as Trevor began chuckling.

"Yore goin' to have to wait a while longer until he decides all's well and fair, Miss Ramone," Grapple informed her, curling his bandaged arm. The wrappings had turned a sick yellow colour with red streaking through around the gash, and seemed very soaked in the fluids.

"Alright, alright," Mallot muttered calmly. He arched his back and twisted his torso. Many people winced as a series of cracks went out as though somebody was continuously firing a gun over and over. The cracking stopped and he relaxed before putting the violin on his left shoulder and resting his chin on the spot where a chinrest was supposed to be. The bow made a small scratching sound as he placed it upon the A string, but the silence didn't last.

A very fast song suddenly emitted, scales, flats, sharps, cords, all combining to form a tune one could easily dance to. All present watched for a moment as the pirate skilfully played, before re-grouping into their huddle and dancing, drinking, laughing, or doing whatever they had done before.

Beside Mallot, Zafira was watching the bow trail rosin everywhere over the edge of the black fingerboard, some parts of the four strings completely white. She started laughing and avoided getting elbowed in the face, suspicious yet unconcerned he had tried to hurt her purposely.
"Good job," she congratulated him, and he merely smiled, still playing the instrument. In front of him, Borrickle was nodding his head to the beat and grinning. He, to, congratulated Jonathan and went off to dance with some mates, leaving Mallot with the violin in hand. The song ended with an A sharp, an A and a longer held D note. The pirate set the instrument in a resting position and practically drained his mug of whatever alcohol was in it.

"Alright, so you proved you can fiddle," Zafira sneered, teasing him. She crossed her arms over her lower ribs and grinned viciously. "Can you play anything proper?"

"Nobody on yore boat seems to be able to," Grapple commented audibly from his position at the cannon a few feet away. He was glaring slightly as Zafira looked at him, yet she merely paid no attention to his recognition of her discrimination.

"Sure I can," Mallot commented lightly, as though it hadn't been a challenge but merely an inquiry. He started up another song, much slower and more relaxed. There were a lot of single strings and open notes, naturals and hardly any C sharps in the song. It ended sooner then the other, yet it had earned him a nod.

"Alright. Fine, you can play better 'n most I've 'eard," Zafira said, disgruntled with her defeat.

"And I bet you've heard many," Mallot joked, putting his arms up defensively as she tried to beat him.