Disclaimer: POTC is special.
A/N: I wrote Squirrel before I knew each of the crew-member's names. The 'shortest pirate', I discovered later, was Marty. But for the sake of originality - and because Squirrel doesn't know them yet - I think I'll stick with 'the shortest pirate'. Arr.
"I don't believe it!" The shortest sailor shrieks again. "Just how much are you planning on robbing me, Mister Gibbs?" Mister Gibbs laughs, shaking the dice in his hand.
"Maybe on your next roll, you might win it all back from me!" He glances briefly up at the rigging, where Squirrel hangs by her good arm from a rope over the pair of sailors. She holds up two fingers.
"Alright!" The short man holds his hand up for the dice. "One more coin, one more roll!"
"Good!" Mister Gibbs grins. "And I bet everything I have on the account that you will roll a two!" The short man grins, and rolls the dice along the deck. It skids, bounces, and stops on a two. Gibbs throws back his head and roars, and the scowling short man flips Gibbs another gold coin. Squirrel grins from her swaying perch hidden in the sails.
Gibbs looks up at her, silently begging for one more play. Squirrel shakes her head, feeling slightly sorry for the short sailor. Gibbs shrugs, grinning.
"Now, we're even!" He slaps the short sailor on the back, tucking the bag of coins into his belt. The short sailor ambles away, scowling. When she is sure no-one is watching, Squirrel slides down the rope and lands squarely on the deck. She takes a moment to regain her balance. I'm still not used to the ground moving like this, she thinks to herself.
"Wonderful work, Miss Squirrel!" Gibbs chuckles. He fumbles in the bag and pulls out four gold coins. "Spend 'em in good health!" Squirrel stares at the money in her hands, eyes as big as dinner plates. She's never owned this much money in her life. She looks up at the sailor, mouth opening to thank him…
"MISTER GIBBS!" Anamaria shrieks from the other end of the boat. The whole crew, Squirrel included, wince at the shrill tone and volume of the call. Gibbs makes a shooing motion with his hands, and Squirrel scampers away, tucking the coins into her belt-pouch. She clambers up the ropes, favouring her burnt side, until she reaches the crow's-nest. She sits silently up there watching Tortuga's lights and fights while munching on a handful of nuts.
"Pieces of eight, pieces of eight!" Squirrel jumps at a voice right at her shoulder. She turns slowly, and sees a blue-and-yellow parrot eyeing the handful of nuts she has.
"Pieces of eight!" The parrot flaps its wings, and hops closer to Squirrel. The girl cloaked in grey smiles, and holds out a peanut to the bright bird. It accepts it daintily in one claw and begins cracking it open with its beak.
Squirrel looks thoughtfully at the bird, smiling, then turns her attention back towards Tortuga, suppressing a shudder. She's still trapped here. Trapped halfway. Halfway between the land and the sea. She watches the streets of Tortuga, combing the crowds with her eyes for one pirate, but it's like looking for a needle in a haystack.
Squirrel sighs, finally giving up on looking for Jack Sparrow. Of all the people, Squirrel thinks, biting into another nut, It had to be Jack Sparrow that saves me. And he has to make me worry about him. Squirrel blushes furiously as she realises what she's just thought. She hands another nut to the insistent parrot.
"A pirate's life for me." The parrot squawks gratefully. "Yo ho!" Squirrel smiles, remembering the song every pirate at the docks sings.
"Drink up, me 'earties, yo ho." Squirrel sings, ruffling the parrot's feathers. Slowly, she realises she did not stammer. The parrot looks at her sideways.
"Here be monsters." The bird squawks. It flaps its wings, launching itself off the crow's-nest and back to the deck below. Squirrel can't help but agree.
"All hands on deck!" Gibbs shouts from below. "Here comes the captain!" Squirrel's heart leaps to her throat for two reasons, one being her freedom. The other, of course, being the one and only Captain Jack Sparrow. She clambers out of the crow's-nest and slides down the rigging. She stands next to a stoic-faced Anamaria, wrapping her cloak around herself, and waits with baited breath for the captain to board.
Jack Sparrow makes his usual dramatic entrance. He marches down the docks, heading straight for the Pearl. He swaggers as he walks, grinning cockily, one hand on his sword. He sees his crew lined up on the deck, and grins even wider. Squirrel's heart quickens. Is he smiling for me? At me?
"Good evenin' gentlemen!" Sparrow grins, taking off his hat and bowing melodramatically. "And to the ladies, the four of you." Squirrel's smile freezes on her face. Sparrow's grin grows wider, and suddenly he pitches forward, falling asleep on the deck.
Squirrel stares, heart faltering. Captain Jack Sparrow is drunk. Dead drunk. How is the ship supposed to set sail without a captain?
Without a word, Squirrel turns on her heel and scurries back to her cabin, feeling the eyes of the entire crew on her back.
"H-here be m-monsters." She mutters, fighting back the tears. "This d-day k-keeps get-getting b-better and b-better."