Disclaimer: I OWN ALL!!!! MWHAHAHA!
Jack: 'poke, poke' Wake up, love.
Me: Mmmnmfhua. What? Oh, crap. I own Mari. And Sangre.
And I'm fighting for custody of Norrington's wig....
"The Black Pearl. Haven't seen that ship in...far too long." Sangre peered through his spyglass, thin lips stretching as he watched Jack and his daughter in their family turmoil. That was good; the more distracted they were, the better chance he had of catching them up. Finally. He pulled the spyglass from his eye, ignoring the strings of decay-ooze that followed the instrument from his face.
The Sirens, surprisingly quiet and reluctant to torment, were the only other beings aboard the ship. Sangre's crew, realizing their captain's horrible fate, had deserted as soon as they could long ago. Well, most of them. Some of them hadn't gone in time. Sangre's rotting eyes shifted to the skeletons hanging from the yardarm. All three had died at the hands of the Sirens, driven mad before they could desert life. Not that Sangre hadn't enjoyed the show; he just wished he could join them. And take Sparrow with me.
More than anything, he wanted Sparrow's blood. That swaggering, arrogant peacock had caused him more grief... Sangre breathed deeply, regaining what passed for calm in his mind. They were close, now. That was all that mattered. They were close, and Sparrow and his brat weren't watching for him.
Soon. Soon. Soon.
The Sirens gathered round him, watching the black sails of the Pearl shift in the moonlight.
Jack turned away from his inspection of their pursuer, raking his gaze over a crew that was still loosely gathered around him and his daughter.
"I want full sail open on this rig!" he shouted. "Man the guns; we may have a fire fight before the dawn greets us! Now, you scabrous dogs!"
Once again, the men scattered. They seemed to do that a lot. Norrington raised an eyebrow. Jack took a healthy swallow of rum before bestowing Mari with an exasperated side-glance. She looked back at him steadily, taking a good swig of her own.
"You lot," Jack said, gesturing with his rum. "My stateroom. I have the beginnings of a plan."
The Turners, Norrington, and Mari, followed by Gibbs and Annamaria filed into the spacious room. However, there were not quite enough chairs; Mari stood against the wall, shifting her wounded leg uncomfortably.
"Miss...Cutlass..." Norrington said hesitantly, "please." And he offered her his seat.
"A true English gentleman," Mari said, sitting gratefully. "But, it's Captain Cutlass, if ye please, love."
"Of course," Norrington muttered. Jack watched this exchange surreptitiously as the others settled themselves. He caught James' eye and gave him his second-best Captain Jack Sparrow "look." Keep yer eyes off me whelp, mate, savvy? The look said clearly. Norrington turned his gaze to the porthole in a most dignified manner.
"What's this plan of yourn, then, Captain?" Gibbs asked quizzically. Jack's plans tended toward the extreme side of insanity. Or brilliance, depending on your views.
"Sangre is after us because of some stolen treasure," Jack stated. "What if that treasure happened not to be stolen any longer?"
"What do you mean, Jack?" Will asked.
"What if we retrieved the commandeered booty and gave it back to Sangre?"
"There would be no reason for him to chase us any longer," Elizabeth said, her eyes bright with hope. "But, where is this 'commandeered booty' exactly?"
Jack's face scrunched up a bit. "'S not exactly all in the same place..."
"Tell us you didn't give it away to some Tortugan wench," Mari begged him. Jack rolled his eyes.
"Your good mum would have skewered me for lookin' at a wench, then, love."
"Then, where is it?"
"On the estate of the good Milo de Bordeaux. Most of it, anyway. My share."
"You gave it to a Frenchman?" Mari exclaimed. Everyone else looked rather shocked, as well. They had all heard Jack's speech about the French and raisins...
"I said it was on his estate, not that it was in the hands of Milo himself, savvy? I gave it to his...sister."
There was a collective groan. Jack's numerous and varied affairs were no secret; nor was his propensity to charm not only with words, but with small gifts that had wild stories behind how they were obtained. He'd never dreamed, of course, that treasure would get him into trouble. He should have known better after Barbossa.
"And my father's share? Where would that be?" Will asked.
"He gave it to yer mum, I know that much. Probably still in your former home, if it's still standing," Jack answered. He noticed Mari's look and raised eyebrow, and answered her question before she had a chance to ask.
"Ruthie took her portion with her when she left the Pearl. I imagine it's with her family." Jack tensed as he explained, drinking his rum afterwards as if to wash his mouth clean.
"Where are we to venture first, then?" Elizabeth asked.
"France," Jack said pulling out a nautical map. "And, once we get there, I think this is what we'll do..."
The group spent the rest of that long night huddled in Jack's stateroom, while the crew on deck desperately tried to outrun the Kraken.
"It's as if the very devil is behind 'em!" Marty the midget muttered.
"Dead men tell no tales," Cotton's parrot agreed. Red Pete, a cabin boy called thus because of the orange furze that served as his hair, watched the Kraken with a dreading heart. Only sixteen, he'd seen his share of bloodshed aboard the Pearl, but had never encountered anything like this.
"D-do you think we can lose them?" he asked softly. Marty slapped the boy's elbow –as high as he could reach- companionably.
"If good Cap'n Sparrow could defeat a ship-full o' cursed, undead men, I think we can outrun one walkin' corpse, lad."
"Wind in yer sails!" Cotton's parrot called cheerfully. Red Pete watched the phantom vessel behind them, attempting to think of something else. Mari's face came to mind, and the boy smiled. He wouldn't mind at all if she decided to stay aboard. Of course, she claimed to be a captain of in her own right...and if she was really Jack's daughter...Red swallowed again. He'd rather face a thousand Sangres than Jack's wrath at someone flirting with his child.
A very loud boom brought the boy back to himself. A cannonball had just splashed into the water, far too close to the Pearl's hull.
"Men to your battle stations!" Marty yelled. Cotton's parrot fluttered wildly as Cotton rushed to a cannon. Red, not knowing what else to do, rushed to the captain's state room. He yanked the door open without preamble, ignoring the surprised looks and the searing glare of his captain.
"Sir!" he said breathlessly, "We're under attack!"
A/N: Cliffhanger! Hehehe. does cliffhanger dance, almost falls off the cliff Um, yeah. Please review!!