"So help me, if you don't stop moving I'm going to break the rest of your…"
Isabel cut off threatening her patient as a stray shot whistled over her head, and redirected the rest of her threat at the merchant ship her quite insane captain had decided he wanted.
"…masts, snap your bowsprit and …"she looked back at the unlucky pirate gunner she was tending, "…strangle you with your own god-damned sash."
Ignoring both the battle raging around her and the fact that her sentence made absolutely no sense, she bent back to her work and finished splinting the man's finger.
"You'll live," she informed him sharply. "Don't get into the fighting if you can help it and don't try to load with that hand."
She straightened, bestowed a rare smile on the pirate carrying a more severely wounded crewmate to her, and surveyed the surrounding area.
Jack Sparrow appeared to have won, again.
If she had wanted simpler duties than what merchant ships asked of her, or more respect for her position, The Black Pearl would not have been the place to go.
Fortunately, she had wanted neither of those things, and if there was one thing to found on the Pearl, it was variety.
"A variety of wounds," she told the man placed before her, not that he had any idea what she was talking about.
She had been on the Pearl for a little over four months now, and it had taken her most of the first three to understand how the ship worked.
Joshamee Gibbs was quartermaster, responsible for punishing minor offenses, relaying the captain's orders, and dividing plunder. For these responsibilities he drew one and a half shares of any prize, as did Anamaria, who was first mate, and Isabel herself.
The boatswain, Cotton, the master gunner, whose name she had never learned, the carpenter, and the sail maker all drew one and a quarter shares.
Jack drew two shares, and, even though that privilege could be taken from him by majority vote, no one seemed to begrudge him the honor.
Isabel certainly didn't.
Figuring out the officers and their corresponding privileges had only taken a few days. It was figuring out the captain that had taken the better part of three months.
The key to Jack Sparrow's success at piracy despite being insane, semi-drunk 40 percent of the time, and fairly kindhearted, she had realized, was that he was always three and a half steps ahead of everyone else, and, and this had taken both time and close observation to realize, about two steps ahead of himself.
How exactly he managed this she still wasn't quite sure. And, despite the curiosity that had been the curse of her childhood, she was on the verge of deciding that she didn't want to know how he did it. Not only because she enjoyed the mystery, but because she was faintly afraid of how he would react if she broached the subject.
Jack Sparrow, for all his good-humored posturing, had a darkness in him that made her wary.
She had learned that the hard way.
A/N: Umm…normally my chapters aren't this short. I don't know why this story is working out that way.