Disclaimer: Own a few of these things I do. Claim all of them I do not. Sue me you will not. Keep the cheese you will.

Random hint to readers: Keep your eyes open for a very special cookie to be posted in the relatively near future.

This is yet another post-HaDM, pre-Signif cookie. It is my favorite. This is also my reaction to the whole Low-Carb phenomenon that took over America this summer.

Semi-rant on fad diets in general, read at own risk: Honestly, just stop eating slop and stop sitting on your bum all day! Eat some of all the good stuff, a little of the "bad" stuff too, then go outside and play in the rain or something. Also, stop thinking that "twiggy" equals "sexy." Coming straight from Delfe's dude-friends, boney-girls don't compare to a femme who has the right curves. Just be healthy, that's what really matters. So, anyway. Semi-rant finished, we'll move along.

In this cookie Gwen plays the part of the familiar carb-counter, and Jack plays the ever-popular carb-loader. Enjoy.

Cutting Carbs

"It'll be so good to get back under…" Gwen trailed off. After a pause, during which she frowned and studied the Black Pearl from afar, she said slowly, "Er, Jack…"

"Aye?" He too was looking at the ship as they strolled down the wharf towards it. Unlike Gwen, though, his expression was merely a fond one and not at all a concerned look.

"Is it just my imagination…" Gwen cocked her head to one side as though the perspective-change might help in some way, "or is the Pearl a little low in the water?"

Jack's merry expression didn't falter. "It only looks a little low to ye?"

"No," Gwen answered flatly. "It looks like she's taken on…" She hesitated, then looked up at Jack with a spark of comprehension in her eyes. In a reproachful tone, she began again, "It looks like she's got a whale or something equally absurd stashed in the hold. Probably something that will cause more trouble than Elizabeth in a bar with a match. What have you done now?"

Jack's grin widened even more, revealing more golden dentistry for the sun to glint on. "I might have… intercepted a certain shipment of goods."

"Contraband?"

"Could be."

"But definitely illegal for you to have anyway?"

"Highly."

"And how, dare I ask, did you find yourself in a position to 'intercept' said cargo?" Gwen asked.

"The fellow in charge of it had to leave town rather suddenly."

"Would you happen to know why?"

"He left for Scotland. Said something about getting a nice breeze there."

Gwen was used to Jack's inane ramblings, so she didn't even spare him a frustrated sigh at this falsification. Instead she just went on, "Never mind details then. Just tell me one thing: What… is currently in the Pearl's hold? Besides the ordinary things, of course," she added, to keep him from being "witty" and listing the whole cargo inventory.

Without dithering at all, Jack answered proudly, "Three-thousand four-hundred eighty carbines."

Gwen's eyes widened. "Carbines? You've packed the Pearl full of guns?"

"I was with you," Jack explained logically. "I didn't pack on a single one of them."

Gwen rolled her eyes and then fixed him with one of her most effective glares. No wonder he'd been so eager to escort her all the way across the city on their last day in the port. Partially to keep her away during the loading, and partially just so he could present the weak claim of innocence that he had just made.

Jack pretended not to notice Gwen's expression. He just kept blithely walking along.

Gwen finally turned her gaze away from him, shaking her head, and looked back to the Pearl. After another moment of scrutinizing the ship, she ventured, "And you don't think the Pearl looks too heavy with all those carbines?"

As though he didn't hear her question at all, Jack suddenly exclaimed, "Look!" He stopped in his tracks, and Gwen bumped right into him. He grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around, pointing out an unremarkable fisherman whistling quietly to himself as he worked on mending a net farther down the quay.

Gwen frowned. "What?" she finally prompted.

"He looks happy," Jack observed. "What say ye go plague him for a while?"

"You've already paid in advance for me to pester you through next Tuesday," Gwen said, shrugging out of his grasp and resuming the journey down to their ship.

An odd grunt was the only reply Jack made as he caught up to her with his longer strides. Then, rather suddenly, he spoke up. "Just wait," he said, "and ye'll see. Loading up on carbines is the best deal I've made in a long time."

"Are you ready to renege on your claim yet?"

"No," Jack said crossly.

Gwen lifted an eyebrow and stood silently watching him for a long moment. He and the entire assembled crew of the Black Pearl were dejectedly watching their quarry escape. Try as they might, they hadn't been able to coax the Pearl up to the impressive speeds that had helped win her renown. The merchant craft they had spied half an hour ago obviously wasn't as heavily laden as the black pirate ship and had effortlessly sailed past, coming no closer than a league and a half, without a worry in the world and never knowing how narrowly it had avoided being attacked.

Jack suddenly seemed to notice Gwen staring at him expectantly, for he straightened and, more firmly and stubbornly than before, repeated, "No."

"Jack!" Gwen yelled over the crash of waves and thunder. "Just admit it!"

It was taking every lightning flash and a lot of eye-straining for him to make out anything at all about the churning sea around them. It was taking all of his wits and sea-wisdom to keep the Pearl afloat. It was also taking all of his strength, and the crews', to maneuver the ship safely over each crest. The Pearl was putting up more resistance to her handling than she usually did.

"We're fine," Jack answered Gwen through gritted teeth.

Jack scowled at Gwen. She had idly dug out a book from the desk drawer where he hid such things from his crew and was now calmly reading, turning a page every now and then and seeming perfectly nonchalant and indifferent.

"I'm not hungry at all," Jack insisted to her suddenly, backing up his claim with a very unconvincing smile.

Jack's precious cargo nearly filled the Pearl to her most extreme capacity, and there hadn't been quite enough room to store as many provisions as the pirates were accustomed to keeping. They'd been rationing their food ever since leaving port.

Gwen didn't appear to have heard him at all.

"We're, er… we're making berth in Nassau for a day or two."

"Will we be offloading anything, perhaps?" Gwen asked with the same sort of casual disdain as if she had been thinking specifically only of a barrel of monkeys or some other such thing.

"Replenishing provisions," Jack said decisively, closing the matter.

Gwen made no reply but smiled to herself as she turned back to her book.

---------------------------

In a shipping office in Nassau…

---------------------------

"I ask only that your men are prompt and quick about it."

"Aye, madam," the ship owner answered keenly, nodding sympathetically.

"I truly appreciate this. You have no idea. My dear brother out of his mind these past two months together. It's been terrible!"

The merchant's expression was a very convincing mask of compassion for the young lady's obvious distress, but by his posture it was clear he was ill at ease and uncertain how to console her. She didn't seem to notice.

"Quite convinced there's some magnificent treasure hidden in the crates, he is. He spends hours combing through them, but poor man, his eyesight is so terrible, he would overlook it even if he did see something. It isn't good for his health to obsess about it so. Oh, I'm terribly grateful to you for taking charge of the cargo. I shouldn't ever have been able to see him wholly himself again if I did nothing while he-- he-- oh!"

"There, there," the poor man tried, shifting nervously in his chair. He'd already heard her story through twice, but he couldn't see his way around dismissing her in such a state as she was, whether she repeated herself eighty times or more.

"The hours he spends, down there with those bl-" The lady seemed to stop herself, but then she convulsively twisted her handkerchief and went on, "--those guns! Oh, I'm… dreadfully sorry, Mr. Gullabel; I shouldn't trouble you so. Only… only you must be certain your sailors follow my exact instructions, or it will never work."

"I assure you, Miss Watersham, I will do everything in my power to carry out my promise to relieve you of the burden your cargo has been to you and the strain it has been for your brother's otherwise sound nature."

"I must thank you again, sir," she insisted even as she stood to leave his office.

"No, it is I who should be pleased merely to find myself in a position to help you," the businessman said, rising to his feet in deference to her. "It does not do to have one so obsessed with finding a treasure amongst ordinary carbines, and I am honored to be able to restore health to your dear brother. I ask only that you are exceedingly careful as you return to your rooms. But I must offer again… are you certain that you will not take my payment for the freight as a letter of credit? Or will you at least allow me to send an escort with you? That is a great deal of money for even a man to carry on his person."

The young lady clutched her reticule compulsively but smiled. "No, I'm sure I'll be quite safe. A manservant waits for me, and I haven't far to go. Thank you, sir."

"Not at all," he assured her again, half-bowing to her as she left. As soon as she was gone, his eyes began to sparkle with greed and he began speculating on what sort of treasure could possibly be hidden in crates full of carbines. Clearly something wonderful to drive a man to madness over it. What a foolish girl the sister was to sell the freight to him like this! Still, that poor devil's loss was Mr. Gullabel's gain.

"Gwen! Gwen!"

Gwen appeared on deck, appearing to be not in the least bit perturbed by Jack's bellowing. "I?" she answered placidly.

"What… did ye do, wench?"

"I only had a sip or two, then I put it back."

He stared. "Not that!"

"Well," she said, sounding confused, "what are you on about, then?"

"Did ye notice, by chance, that the carbines are gone? All of them? Every last one?"

"Of course I did," Gwen answered logically. "I noticed the difference immediately as soon as I first returned to the Pearl this afternoon. You finally sold them off, then? I'm glad--"

"I didn't," he replied through gritted teeth.

Gwen looked almost genuinely surprised. "Did you not? I spoke with Gibbs and Smithy both not more than an hour ago. They said that the men who came to move the crates had--"

"Had all due papers, with my false trade name on the bill of sale. Smithy confirmed that it looked like it was in my hand, and allowed them to take them all," Jack finished for her. He'd already spoken with the first mate and quartermaster.

"Are you trying to say," Gwen began, speaking slowly and deliberately, "that you didn't-"

"Gwen…" Jack interrupted, but he couldn't seem to think of anything to say to her. He was trembling in his rage, and twice he started to move his hands toward her throat but stopped himself midway. Finally, he turned and stamped off to his cabin, slamming the door behind him.

"You did it, didn't you?" came a voice from behind her. Gwen turned to see Gibbs, Smithy, and Ben looking at her expectantly.

Wordlessly, she drew out a large money purse stuffed full with banknotes and gold coins.

"Mother's love," Gibbs swore softly at the sight of so much money in one place.

"At least I'm the only one he's angry with," Gwen said. All three heads bobbed up and down in agreement-- and gratitude that she'd done what no one else had dared to. "See that every man gets his share," Gwen said, handing the thick purse over to Smithy.

"Aye," the man said, already weighing the amount in his hand and scrutinizing it with twice the care and consideration of an honest banker.

Ben suddenly reached out and grasped Gwen's hand, shaking it heartily. "Bless ye, Gwen," he said. "Devil take me for goin' agains' the cap'n, but bless ye for gettin' rid of 'em."

"I can almost taste them…"

Gwen made a face and stared at Jack. He was lying on the bed on his back, bemoaning her traitorous business deal.

"Jack, they're guns. You don't eat them; they don't have a taste."

"They're beautiful. I love carbines."

Gwen sighed.

Jack ducked to reload his pistol. He felt almost silly firing on the excise agents' ship with the flyweight weapon. Further along the deck, Ben Blades was crouched behind the main mast, struggling with a very old and weathered matchlock musket. Gwen was trying to return fire with a musketoon, but the firearm didn't allow for very accurate shots.

"A few carbines would have been nice about now," Jack growled to Gwen.

"…Ye can prop a door open with them. Ye can wake the crew with them. Ye can shine them up and blind an enemy. Ye can scratch your bum with them. Ye can--"

"Jack, if you want to get more carbines, I'm not going to stop you. After all, you're the captain, aren't you, Captain?"

"So ye confess they're useful?" Jack answered, ignoring her barb about his title. "Ye won't get rid of them behind me back?"

Gwen exhaled slowly. "All right," she said at last. "I admit, it would be nice to have a few aboard. A few. As long as you get a reasonable number, I won't get rid of any of them. Do we have an accord?"

"A hundred, then?"

"Jack…"

"Fifty."

"Agreed," Gwen said.

"Agreed," Jack echoed. He stared at her silently for a moment. "So… we're back… we're on friendly terms again, aye?"

"I would say so," Gwen answered.

There was another moment of silence and stillness. Then, suddenly, both pirates began stripping out of their clothes and scrambling toward the bed.

Every time you forget to review, a puppy dies.