I know what yer thinkin'. Ye thinkin there is no way in the seven hells that I, blushingbeauty86, do not own Pirates of the Caribbean. But, I must tell you, there is a way. At least there must be because I do not own one measly character, boat, oops, ship, or even that puddle of water they call the Caribbean. So there is no need to call and make requests for Jack or Will to show up at your party. I can do nothing. Sorry.
"I DID NOT DESERVE THAT!" Jack roared in reference to the sound slap he had received from a fuming Elizabeth but a moment ago. His shout attracted the attention of his crew as the Black Pearl cut through the water's clear skin and Port Royal became but a pinprick on the horizon.
"DIDN'T DESERVE IT! You... RAT! You BLOODY PIRATE! You MONGREL! You ...MANGY, WORTHLESS, FOOL!"
With each insult, Elizabeth arms rained down in attack on the now cowering Captain. Finally, Will dragged her a safe distance away, trying to hold her as she clawed and kicked.
"This ere is me ship, missy! And if ye continue to insist on not giving me the respect me title demands, I shall have ye locked in the brig!" Jack shouted.
Unfortunately, the last threat gave Elizabeth enough fiery rage to escape her husband's hold and she tore after Jack who ran to the other side of the deck, his arms flung high. The crew watched in tired amusement, stepping cautiously out of the fleeing pirate and mightily angry lass. When he reached the end of the deck, he summed up all of his courage and spun to face the charging bull that was Elizabeth, catching her arms at the wrists when she ran into him.
"Ye agreed to it, remember, Elizabeth?" he smiled nervously as he fought to keep grasp of her.
True, she had in fact been in a drunkenly unconscious state when he had manually lifted her head up and down to signify her nod of approval. He gulped. But, an agreement was an agreement after all, he reminded himself.
"I would never agree to such a thing!" spat Elizabeth, yanking herself free of his grasp and standing a small distance away, breathing heavily.
"Well, ye were not ye charmin' self last night."
It was true. She had been dead to the world. Elizabeth narrowed her eyes and pierced him with a scowl that could've made mountains tremble.
"You just wait, Sparrow. You just wait 'till Christina wakes. She hates the ocean. She gets seasick to the worst extents and she's hell to deal with. You've got another thing coming," she warned solemnly, shaking her finger in his face before spinning on her heel and stalking downstairs, giving a guilty looking Will a glare on the way.
Jack heaved a sigh of relief when she finally disappeared. Silly woman. Christina would think he was a god for what he had done for her. And, maybe, just maybe, his efforts from last night would not be completely wasted.
His eyes widened when a less than happy looking Will marched his way. Not him too.
"We have to go back, Jack."
Jack shook his head furiously, resulting in the clattered tinkling of beads and coins.
"This is a bad idea, I'll only tell you once! Give it an hour and you'll see a fleet of the King's finest on your tail," Will argued rationally.
"One, we're on the fastest ship in the Caribbean, nay, the entire ocean. Two, this is a brilliant, foolproof idea and I'm offended that ye would think it anything but. Three, chances are, I will be considering blowin' a 'ole in ye head by the hundred and forty-sixth time ye tell me!" Jack retorted.
Will only rolled his eyes and stomped off.
"Blasted fools," Jack muttered under his breath. He lifted his eyes to realize that his crew were still staring like stunned mullets at the exchange.
"GET BACK T'WORK YE SCABLESS DOGS!" Jack barked irritably, resulting in the stumbling, scuttling and startled response of the crew as they obeyed.
Jack turned to gaze back at the sea before him. Yes, Christina would be pleased. Overjoyed, most likely. He was a genius, even if only he could admit it.
Salt. Rum. Spices.
Christina wrinkled her nose sleepily at the unique but not unpleasant mixed scent. She rolled over clumsily, resulting in her head pounding and throbbing as though a herd of disgruntled, wrestling elephants were making a playground out of it.
She cautiously and hesitantly cracked open one eye then scrunched it closed again, her dilated pupils offended by the bright morning sun floating gracefully through the small window on the wall in front of her. She moaned, turning back over, trying to ignore the increase in the elephants' activities in her head this caused.
Laying still for a moment, she summoned up enough bravery to try again and opened the same eye.
A bookcase of old books.
A world map lying on a wooden desk.
A sad excuse for a chest of draws, missing most of the front.
An old globe, slightly off it's axis.
And a selection of paintings that Christina could've sworn to have heard about their going missing.
Instantly, both eyes were open wide and she shot up from the bed she was lying in. Not her room. Not her house. Panic made her tremble when she looked down and saw that she was no longer in her dress but in an oversized white shirt. She prayed silently before looking down the collar. Nothing. Underneath the shirt was absolutely nothing.
Jack jumped at the bloodcurdling scream that echoed around the Pearl's decks. The crew stopped working and Will sent Jack an 'I told you so' look from nearby.
A commotion was heard downstairs and the pirate couldn't help but to cringe when Christina appeared, looking ready to kill, from below decks. She wore one of his coats pulled tightly around her. He tried not to grin, knowing that underneath was just one of his shirts. He had been respectful undressing her of course. Only peeked once.
He soon found himself with no reason to grin when she stalked purposefully towards him, visibly trembling with barely contained rage. He swallowed nervously and bared his teeth in a forcibly pleasant smile. If he truly did have any charm, he would be much obliged if it showed itself now.
"Ello, luv. Nice weather, eh?"
Blast. How charming to mention the weather.
She stopped in front of him. Behind her eyes was an ever growing wave of loathing and Jack really, really did not want to be around when it broke.
"Listen, if ye haven't got anything important that needs t'be discussed right at this particular moment in time, then, I think I can hear Gibbs callin' from belo-"
His hurried attempted escape was silenced by a stingingly loud and sharp slap across the cheek that echoed it's impact, so strong that Jack's head now turned the other way, around the Pearl.
Blast.
Taking a moment to recover from the blow, Jack finally turned back to face the seething Christina.
"Take me home," she hissed.
"Can't do that, luv. Ye see, at this point, the navy 'ave already realized your goin' missin' and me goin' back would result in me hanging limp in a noose within an hour of stepping foot on land."
"Do you honestly think I could care less about you dead or alive? Take me home," she repeated with frightening calmness.
Jack frowned.
"I don't think ye understand. Me takin' ye back would mean that ye would have to marry Norrington."
"I know! Take me home, you fool!"
Fool. That did it. It was not so much the lass' anger that had Jack's blood boiling as much as her ungratefulness. She should be on her knees, professing his brilliance and splendor and instead, the word 'fool' had been her reference to him.
"Ye know what, luv? If ye can apologise fer the words that ye just spoke, I shall let ye jump ship and swim back to Port Royal. Best do it soon," he advised, gazing back at the hardly visible land pointedly.
Christina smirked carelessly before she realised that he was in fact serious. She narrowed her eyes and scowled fiercely.
"If you do not turn this ship around, I shall... I'll..."
"Ye shall what?" Jack prompted, "The offer to let ye swim is still open if ye apologise in the next five seconds. Five..."
Christina crossed her arms stubbornly.
"Four..."
She tapped her foot and yawned.
"Three..."
Sighed and rolled her eyes.
"Two, one. Time's up."
Jack smiled triumphantly. Christina spun on her heel and walked calmly downstairs without another word.
An hour later, Jack ventured after her, quietly opening the door to the Captain's Cabin.
Christina sat on the bed, her back facing him. He smirked.
"Ye know, if ye can find the motivation to get off ye hide an' help out in the kitchen, I'd be much obliged."
No response.
"But, if the kitchen isn't ye style, there's always the lower decks."
Surely even someone not as educated as a sailor in ships would know that the kitchen was the better option.
No response.
Jack frowned and walked to the other side of the bed to face her. She stared emotionlessly at him.
"Preparing for the big apology, are ye? Care fer a rehearsal?" he grinned stirringly.
Nothing. Not a hint of distaste. Not a curl of the lips in a retort.
Exasperation relaxed Jack's features.
"Don't ye think yeself a little old fer the silent treatment, luv?"
This time he was not suprised by the lack of response, just infuriated by it.
"I'll 'ave ye know, I ain't got nothin' better to do than float around aimlessly until ye talk t'me," he threatened, remembering the information he had received about her seasickness from Elizabeth, "I'm told it's forecast to be pretty rough in the next couple of days."
Not a scrap of fear showed itself on Christina's face. But utter frustration masked Jack's.
"As ye wish," he grit, stomping out of the room and slamming the door behind him so that the rest of the doors in the hallway rattled in their frames. The bloody woman had the ignorance to think that she could possibly be more stubborn than himself. Stupid bloody woman.
A week later saw Christina just as silent as ever. The only person she didn't refuse to talk to was Elizabeth.
Jack found this incredibly unfair as Elizabeth had actually agreed to the plan, unconscious or otherwise.
He tried everything to get the lass to talk to him.
The first day he had tried to manipulate a word from her.
"Say nothing if ye consent t'being a self admitted whore," he had demanded.
While vomiting over the side of the ship, she had given him an obscene gesture he hadn't thought a lady capable of.
The second day, he had tried to out silence her. Thoroughly unsuccessful. And not all too silent with her frequent stomach content emptying habits.
Days three, four and five she had spent in the brig with only water and no food. But, being the gentleman he was, he had let her out before she had had the chance to get really sick. Plus, Elizabeth's constant screeching in his ear to let the girl out had gotten a tad too much to handle. The brig had been left in a pitiful state, leaving Jack to wonder how a person could vomit so much with little to no food in their belly. Incredible.
The sixth day had been almost successful, he thought. He decided to spend the whole day locked in his cabin with her, talking incessantly. Many subjects had been discussed, if you could call a one sided conversation a discussion. But it had been when his voice was hoarse and the sun was dipping below the horizon that he had hit a nerve. Hit it rather hard.
"So, luv, I know I've learned so much about you already today but, I have another question."
Christina had rolled her eyes, flinging herself back on the bed.
"Your parents."
Jack had smirked inwardly when he saw her body visibly tense.
"I take it ye were a problem child. Being shipped off to live with ye uncle. What'd ye do? Court one two many of ye gardeners?"
Aye, there it was.
She shot up so she was sitting and fixed him with a chilly glare.
He nodded and narrowed his eyes all knowingly.
"Hmm, didn't sit with daddy too well, did it? Probably sent ye to as many reform schools as would take ye. Correct? But ye were too stubborn and unwilling to deal with such a devil child, he was left with no choice but t'send ye to live with dear old Uncle Governor Swann, aye?"
He had definately enjoyed the look of immense hatred he received from her and a grin spread across his face. But it had faded when grief intruded her eyes and she had had to look away.
Yes, the subject of her parents was most certainly a sensitive one. One he had to remember for future references. Any argument could be solved by bringing up a sensitive subject that had nothing to do with the matter at hand. And Jack was sure that if she did ever speak to him again, there would be many arguments.
Today was the seventh day. Well, the evening of the seventh day, to be exact. Jack had decided to leave Christina alone and give her one last chance to come around and talk to him. She hadn't. But, now, as she stood on the edge of the plank, he had not doubt that she was regretting her stupid stubbornness.
"Now, Christina, as I said before, the water is awfully chilly down there," Jack told the quivering beauty on the plank above the excited murmuring of the crew, leaning to have a look down the side of the ship as if to be sure. He looked up and nodded in sad confirmation.
Elizabeth struggled against Gibbs' tight grasp and Will stood beside Jack trying to convince him to back down and to convince Christina to talk. Both ignored his efforts.
"And, as always in these waters, there is the slight chance of sharks. It's about their feeding time, ye see?"
The crew guffawed and Jack grinned at them before turning back to the lass in question.
Not even a slightest hint of apprehension showed itself on her face as her lips turned blue and her hair whipped around her face with the strong sea wind. a sudden gust almost toppled her off and Jack's eyes widened for a fleeting moment. He had no intention of making her jump. This was just last desperate attempt to get her to talk. It was driving him slowly insane. Even to the point that he had begun to doubt his dominate and elusive powers he had over women, God forbid.
Christina shakily righted herself, still managing to look dignified in just a white shirt and a pair of ratty old pants she had scavenged, with her hair disheveled and all makeup washed from her face. She did not have the intense fear that most men showed when made to walk the plank. Jack couldn't help being a little in admiration. A little.
"There really is no need fer this, luv. We both know that yer a stubborn one and yer determined somethin' terrible. All ye got t'do is say one word and ye back safe and warm on the Pearl. You lose, I win," he shrugged with a grin, knowing the phrase would infuriate her.
She scowled at him before promptly turning and diving into the icy waters below.
Stupid, stupid, STUPID woman.
Jack watched intently as she fell and winced at the splash she made on contact with the water. He had never intended for her to actually get into the water. It was getting a little past dusk and the water was too cold for a leisurely swim. Especially in the winter months. Come to think of it, even in summer, the water around this area seemed to be a little cold. Must have something to do with how much contact the sunlight had with the water during the day, he supposed. Or maybe- Good lord, how could he be thinking about the effect sunlight had on the water when Christina still had not reappeared after her dive?
Jack jumped into action and started stripping himself of his affects, leaving his cutlass, revolver, compass, hat and coat in a pile on the ground before leaping up top of the railing and diving in after her.
The water pierced his skin with a thousand frozen daggers as he fought to resurface. His head finally broke the water's skin and he heaved a breath, whirling around, searching for any sign of the blasted wench. When his searching was proved fruitless, he dived back under and swam deeper, figuring she must have been carried with the current behind the ship. He cursed silently when he had to resurface for oxygen, taking a deep breath and quickly going back under, searching frantically for any sign of his white shirt and her long copper hair. Nothing. His lungs were burning by the time he came up again, heaving and about to dive back down again when something caught his eye.
His white shirt.
Her long copper hair.
Christina fluttered her fingers from safe confines of the Pearl at him.
"How on earth...?" Jack muttered through his chattering teeth as he waded on the spot, unable to do more.
She grinned before turning away and disappearing away from the side of the ship.
"That woman will be the death of me," Jack growled as he started to swim back to his ship, feeling rather foolish.
"Ye 'aven't got a hope of sleepin' there."
Jack glared at Christina as she snuggled deeper into the sheets of his bed.
"Get outta me bed, now," he growled. Who would've ever thought he'd say that to a woman? He shook his head at the thought and walked closer to the bed.
Christina rolled away from him, facing the wall.
"Woman, I am warning ye now. Get outta me bed."
The command mixed with the sound of the click of the loading of his revolver. He trained it on the back of her head, savoring the image of his finger squeezing the trigger and her head being blown into a million pieces.
She yawned and rolled back over to look at him questioningly. Seeing the gun pointed between her eyes, she rolled them and swatted it away.
Jack stared incredulously at her. How dare she? Fuelled by rage, he shoved the gun back in it's holster and flung the sheets off of her. She her mouth opened in a wordless scream as he heaved her up over his shoulder and marched towards the door. She was still wet from her dive and the water soaked through his fresh dry clothes, making him groan. She pounded with her fists on his back and kicked him in the side with her flailing feet.
He walked up the stairs and pushed the door to the deck open and dropped her onto the wooden floor. She scowled up at him and he pat her patronizingly on the head.
"Ye be quiet, now, savvy?"
With that, he turned and walked back downstairs, locking the door behind him.
"NO ONE is t'let the wench in! Got it?" he barked at this stunned crew who had been attracted by the girl's screams. They nodded solemnly.
"Keep an eye on dear Will and Elizabeth, be sure that they don't get t'her. She's t'spend the night on the deck," Jack told Gibbs grimly.
"Don't ye think it be a little rough fer the lass, Cap'n? It'll be a cold one tonight" Gibbs said warily, turning his head at the pounding on the door from outside.
"I don't give a flying chicken, Joshamee. The minx is goin' ta get what she's got comin."
Uh oh. Jack's 'ad enough, looks like. Christina wasn't very vocal in this one, was she? Snob. But, more importantly, if ye are in fact enjoying this tale, I'm immensely glad fer ye. But let us know, aye? The next installment will be up... when it's up I spose. Cheers!