I am in a silent an' pensive mood today so I shall be silent an' pensive. I will jus' tell ye tha' I 'ave an idea an' 'cause ye seem t'have none, ye shall not complain. Not a whine shall escape ye lips as ye read the next series of chapters, savvy? Good, settled.
"Ana Maria."
The woman lifted her head grudgingly to see her Captain standing before her with both hands behind his back. After a few moments, she realised that he had intended more than just to state her name to her and that he wasn't going to leave her alone until she gave him the affirmative that she was in fact listening. She lowered her book to her lap and lifted her brows impatiently.
"Wha' d'ye want, Jack?"
"Which hand?"
Her brows lowered considerably and a thought flickered across her mind that the man was conducting a deluded scientific experiment to determine that or if everyone was just as mad as he. He looked at her expectantly, she continued frowning at him.
"Pick a hand. Any hand," Jack prompted, jiggling his elbows impatiently, hands still hidden behind his back. She still frowned.
"Either," Ana Maria said plainly.
"Nay, ye 'ave t'choose, woman!" Jack snapped.
"I was correctin' ye, ye git. Ye only 'ave two hands so it's 'either'. If it's more than two, it's 'any'. Proper grammar, God forbid," Ana Maria sighed in explanation. Men were daft creatures.
Jack stared at her for a moment before rolling his eyes, "Pick a hand. Either hand."
"...Nay," Ana Maria replied suspiciously.
Jack frowned at her, shoulders slumping, "Why not?"
"If I jus' asked ye t'pick a hand, either hand, would ye do it?" Ana Maria pointed out.
Jack paused, taking her words into account for a moment. Finally, after considering the thought of her asking of him what he was asking of her, he nodded in acceptance, "Aye, point taken." If she had asked him such a thing, it would probably have something to do with an elaborate plan to end his life and for her to take his place as Captain. He left her to her reading.
Ana Maria stared after his swaggering form for a moment before shaking her head and lowering her eyes to the book.
"Elizabeth."
Elizabeth turned her eyes from the horizon to see Jack heading in her direction purposefully. He had interrupted her searching for their destination... if they had one at all. What if, despite all this talk of Jack having an ingenious plan, he had none and they had no destination? What if the pirate had finally gone mad and had a disorder that made him want to pretend he was going somewhere important without really ever desiring to reach it? This thought and others like it had been on her worried mind over the last week or so that they had spent floating aimlessly.
Jack was mad. She was never going to make it off the Pearl.
She pursed her lips irritably, noting that his usually floating hands were clasped behind him. Although this unsettled her a little, she had come to accept that just about everything the pirate did, said or thought unsettled her and had learned to deal with it.
"Where are we going? Have you decided yet?" she asked urgently. Jack shook his head as he reached her.
"Pick a hand," he commanded without explanation.
"What has that got to do with anything? Why can't you just tell me where we're going?" she grumbled.
"It has everythin' t'do with it, my dear," Jack smiled encouragingly.
Elizabeth sighed, letting go of her resentment and eyed him thoughtfully. The fact that the pirate wanted her to 'pick a hand' really did not help his case of being sane in her mind. Rather deteriorated it completely to put it bluntly. True, to say that he had ever been sane would be to lie. But maybe over the years, his condition had gotten worse...
Jack was mad. Insane. Crazy.
After enough time for Jack to feel a little uncomfortable under her gaze, she asked, "Jack, have you considered the idea that you may be having a midlife crisis?"
Jack kept the same expression out of shock, save for his smile wavering a little, "I'm sorry?"
"I really am worried about you. You seem so... off beat lately. Not that you haven't always been. Just more than usual, I suppose. Have you considered ...speaking to a professional? It's not really as big of a deal as it seems. Lots of people do. I hear that therapy has tremendous benefits..."
As Elizabeth continued babbling, Jack's face fell lower and lower until it relaxed with exasperation. Why was everything so complicated with women? All he asked was that they picked a hand. Simple. The first one had refused for no real reason. Now this one accused him of being in need of professional guidance. He must ask a male next. Common sense.
"... not that I've ever needed therapy. I've been perfectly stable my whole life. Which is why I feel sorry for you, Jack. I don't think I could fully understand what you must go through everyday...," Elizabeth frowned as Jack turned and walked away. Indeed, the man was clearly disturbed. She went back to searching the horizon for a sign of land.
"Will."
Will looked up from his one sided chess game, "Yes, Jack?" Neither mentioned or acknowledged that a chess game with one player was rather odd and pointless.
"Pick a hand."
Will lowered his brows in puzzlement.
"...Why?"
"What is so difficult about picking a bloody hand fer cryin' out loud!" Jack shouted, stomping and flinging up his arms in frustration. He really had expected more from Will, of all people. An open mind. Some manly wisdom that told the lad that Jack was a fountain of knowledge and therefore should be trusted at all times. He turned away and shook his head in disgrace, about to leave.
Will, quite taken aback by the unexpected outburst, stared at him with wide eyes.
"...The right one."
Jack spun toward him hopefully, "Are ye sure?"
"As sure as I could be after being asked to pick a hand. What did I pick?" Will asked warily. Jack promptly reached out his right hand and placed a small twig on the chess board in front of him. Will blinked at the twig.
"Jack, ...you shouldn't have."
"You picked it, mate," Jack smirked joyously, flicking the air.
"What was the other choice?" Will inquired numbly.
Jack opened his left hand to reveal a length of potato peel that looked like it had seen better days.
"Did I get the good deal or the bad deal?" Will shook his head in puzzlement.
"Don't know," Jack replied as he left the cabin. Will stared after him for a long time before returning to his game.
"We're goin' ta Sparrow's Isle! Get movin'!" Jack barked from the middle of the deck. The crew stared blankly at him.
"Are ye all deaf as well as foul lookin'? Make sail fer Sparrow's Isle!" Jack commanded sharply. Hesitantly, the crew went about preparing to move and Jack moved to the side of the deck, cupping his hands around his mouth.
"Gibbs!" he shouted to the man who had taken over the Sapphire for Ana Maria while she was on the Pearl.
"Aye, Cap'n!" The man sounded rather weary and bored. Fair enough, too. Being a temporary Captain without actually doing anything a Captain does would be rather unexciting.
"Follow the Pearl!"
"Aye, Cap'n!" Suddenly, with the mention of going somewhere, Jack could see Gibbs' wide grin from where he stood on the other ship.
Jack grinned as well when he turned and saw the activity on deck. It was as refreshing to him as it was to everyone else to be going somewhere.
Meanwhile, Christina had been awoken by all the shouting and was now grumpily making her way down the hall and mumbling under her breath about people not respecting other people's slumber enough these days as she stomped up the stairs to the deck. Momentarily blinded by the bright, late morning sun, she shielded her eyes futilely with her hand and regarded the activity on deck with a surprised arched brow.
Trying to ignore the nervous, uncomfortable feeling she got as she recalled the last night's close encounter, Christina strode purposefully towards the Captain.
"Jack."
Jack turned from the helm to see Christina looking at him expectantly and grinned. The woman looked like hell. Hair sticking up in random tuffs, eyes squinting sleepily and face pillow creased. Arms crossed over his bed creased white shirt that served as her nightwear as well as his coat hastily thrown over her shoulders.
Good to know that even the most perfect specimens of the human race were not so perfect in the morning.
"Hi, luv. Sleep well?"
"Where are we going?"
Jack smirked, "Good mornin' t'ye too."
"Where are we going?" Christina repeated in the same blunt tone.
"Sparrow's Isle."
"You have an island?"
"Doesn't ev'ryone?" Jack smirked, turning back to the helm.
"Hilarious. You have an island?" Christina muttered, rubbing her face groggily.
"Aye. I own the title of Governor. Charmin' place," Jack informed her airily, "Should be there by nightfall."
"Any reason we're going there?" Christina inquired, bored.
"Will chose the twig."
"I'm sorry?"
"We are going for a well deserved holiday, m'dear."
"So, no reason?"
"Christina, jus' because a man 'as no immediately apparent reason for going somewhere, it does not mean tha' he 'as no reason a'all," Jack told her patronizingly.
"No reason," Christina nodded. Jack smirked, defeated.
He regarded her for a moment longer, a knowing smirk on his lips and she scowled, "What?"
He shook his head, "Nothin'. 'Ave I ever told ye what a joy ye are in the mornin'? Shine brighter than the sun, ye do, luv."
Christina plastered on a sarcastically pleasant smile to match his own, "And have I ever told you what a comedian you are in the morning? Truly witty, you are."
He bowed his head in acceptance of the mocking compliment and she turned and left without giving him chance to insult her further. She could hear him laughing all the way down the stairs as she headed back to bed.
When she woke, it was yet again from the sound of shouting.
"Bloody pirates," she muttered, swinging her feet off the bed and sitting up. Noting it was dark, she quickly changed into a dress and straightened herself up then left the cabin in search of someone who could tell her what all the noise was about. She bumped into an irritated looking Ana Maria in the hall.
"Are we there yet?" Christina asked, stopping the woman.
"Aye, we're there. But it ain't fer the best. Jack 'as lost it, I tell ye," Ana Maria seethed before pushing by and slamming the door to her cabin shut behind her.
Christina paused in suprise, listening to the shouting outside. It sounded like ...a party. She could hear laughing and Jack's name being said several times along with 'marooned'. Maybe the crew had gotten a clue and over threw their insane Captain. Christina bit back a giggle at the cruel thought as she continued down the hall.
"An' 'ere is where Miss Elizabeth sat waitin' fer the Navy an' I almost shot the lass," Jack was laughing loudly with the crew on the beach of the strange island where the Pearl was docked a small distance off shore. Elizabeth shouted something abusive, indiscernible from where Christina stood.
Jack caught sight of Christina and signaled for her to come. She rolled her eyes and shook her head. She wouldn't even try to let down one of the row boats into the water if her life depended on it. Her sailor knowledge only went so far.
"Come on, Christina!" Jack shouted.
"Do you suggest I swim, you fool?" she shouted back although there was laughter in her voice now. She laughed more when Jack nodded. When she shook her head again and crossed her arms stubbornly, he made some dramatic gestures and murmured to the crew some comments, which Christina could only guess were incredibly sexist and discriminating. He then strode purposefully to the row boat already on the shore and pushed it out a little ways before getting inside it and rowing towards the Pearl.
He was grumbling when he positioned the boat alongside of the ship.
"Happy, lass?" he called up to her.
"You could have just woken me up before you left the first time," Christina replied dryly.
"Aye, but then ye wouldn' 'ave t'jump, would ye?" Jack grinned.
Christina's eyes widened, "I'm not jumping."
"Ye thought I was goin' ta get this boat up there jus' fer you? Jump, woman. The water's warm," Jack told her encouragingly. He had lied about the warm part but it was all for a good cause. Christina looked to the shore where the crew had started a bonfire and were presently dancing around it, joyously for being on land, however small and uninhabited.
"Jack...," she whined, grasping the Pearl's railing as though she would be dragged off it before she jumped.
"I'll catch ye," Jack told her. Both knew that such was impossible.
"How sweet," Christina replied sarcastically. She took a deep breath before tentatively lifting one foot over the side of the ship. Looking over her shoulder, down at the ink black water below, she lifted the other foot over and stood grasping the ship for dear life. After a few long moments of no movement, Jack frowned.
"Now ye 'ave ta actually get down 'ere, lass," he informed her gently. She glared fiercely down at him and he lifted his hands in surrender and silence. Taking another deep breath, Christina squeezed her eyes shut tight and loosened her grip on the Pearl. Reaching up a hand to hold her nose, she hesitantly stepped backwards into the air, landing with a loud splash below.
When she resurfaced, gasping and cursing, a short second later, Jack quickly rowed the boat towards her, a wide smile on his face.
"You lied!" she wheezed, grasping his outstretched hand.
"Actually, I was misinformed. I assumed the water was warm and told you so," Jack pointed out as he dragged her over the side of the boat. He resisted the urge to make comments of being qualified in resuscitating if needed and only smiled provokingly.
Christina gave him an icy scowl and he laughed, giving her his coat before making the row back to shore. Christina's teeth were chattering by the time that she stepped foot on the white sand and Jack led her to the fire to dry.
Looking around and seeing numerous bottles and mugs in the crew members' hands, Christina frowned, "I thought Elizabeth burned the rum?"
"Aye. Turns out there's cellars all over the place. I jus' didn' have time to find them the first time," Jack replied wistfully. Christina doubted he would've been in need or want of more rum in the two days he spent marooned there on his first visit and rolled her eyes.
After none to long, her attire was dry and she walked away from the fire to where Jack was demonstrating something obviously very amusing, judging by the audience's chuckling and clapping.
He appeared to be telling a story. Very elaborately.
"First, the man couldn' find his damned cutlass so he jus' yelled loudly tha' he was simply goin' ta free the kind people of their heavy money tha' they were luggin' around," he laughed, gesturing widely and attracting a guffaw from the crew.
"Understandably, the people were rather skeptical an' jus' stared at the lad...," Jack continued. He didn't notice that his audience was, one by one, becoming deathly quiet and wide eyed. He just continued obliviously, assuming that his story was so incredibly intriguing that it had rendered them all speechless.
The cause of the audience's stupor crept tactfully up behind Jack, their face obscured from the fire's light by his shadow.
"... An' then, t'top it all off, he pointed a gun at the goat's head. Threatin' a blasted goat of all things," Jack was saying, pointing his fingers in the shape of a firearm at his temple. He didn't even notice his audience's deathly silence and fearful stares.
The stealthy figure was now but a few feet from Jack, ironically, gun trained on his head.
Slowly, Jack stopped talking and stared at the stunned crew blankly, "What?"
"Fer God's sake, Jack, turn around," Ana Maria hissed urgently.
Jack obeyed and nearly fell over backwards before the blonde disheveled woman mouthed the word, "Freeze."
He held up his hands and did so, eyeing her cautiously, "Now, don't do anythin' rash, luv."
The woman smirked and held the gun pointed at the crowd of pirates who stood with their hands raised in the same signal of surrender.
She smiled.
There ye go, it was a long chapter, wasn't it? Hope ye all didn' mind too much.
Novthoniel: DON'T WORRY, LUV. Hitting the caps lock key happens t'even the very best of us. Even me, GOD FORBID. I shall 'ave t'read yer stories if ye've written any t'prove tha' anyone can do a helluva lot better than me own humble tale. The plot is lacking, the characters can be rather not in character an' ... well jus' me own opinion I 'spose. Glad ye like Christina, luv. Tell me where yer up to if ye get the chance.
ChaosLightning13: Well, I took a look back an' tried t'find where I had misspelled 'lightning' but no such luck. I am sincerely sorry an' it shall never happen again. Sorry, I would end the story but yer pain an' agony is jus' so amusin' tha' I must continue, luv. Thankye fer reviewin' a good lot of me chapters. I love it when people do tha'. It makes me reminisce of wha's happened in the tale earlier. Cheers, luv.
AJ-Sparrow: 'Allo there, lass. Ye shall 'ave t'wait a whiles more fer some sparks 'cause, unfortunately, me new plot idea consists of none. Fer now. Me thinks anyway. It's very flexible. Glad ye like the development. This one was a big Jack one, I quite enjoyed writin' it so I'm hopin' tha' ye all enjoyed readin' it too. Thankye kindly fer yer review!
Siriusly Sirius Lily Black: I don't think I've told yer how much I like yer name, lass. It's very clever. Shame on yer fer suggestin' they go t'France though. Jack was none too pleased. (Paris is very nice though) Aye, Ana Maria always is tryin' t'steal Jack's Captain...ness. 'Ave ta hand it t'her but. The lass 'as gall.
Forensic Photographer711: Ah, she's back. 'Aven't heard from ye in a whiles, luv. Aye, Jack Sparrow without a plan was very fun to write. He was rather distraught but. Poor Jack. As fer the lack of ideas, highly understandable. I think I've sort of dug a hole an' jumped in. But 'ere's to gettin' out... or diggin' further. Either way...
DemonSerabi: Argh! A different language! ...Me thinks. Wha' was it, exactly? I'd guess but then I'd feel a tad foolish. Jack should've done somethin' ta Chris, aye. But he's a gentleman, lass... Well, he reckons such, anyways. Here's yer update, luv.
Ailuro: Me deepest apologies a thousand times over an' more still. Me email is: The reason ye 'ave received no mail from me is 'cause I was rather hesitant at sendin' the mail 'ta when some poor other lass might get it if it was the wrong email. I'm dense like tha'. I'm Australian, ye see, so we don't 'ave AOL over 'ere so I got no screen name or nothin'. Oh heavens, AN ITALIAN PONY! I am ecstatic! Over the moon. An' when ye say 'we 'ave talkin' ta do' I get nervous. Am I in trouble of sorts? I didn't do it, I swear!
Whims: Glad ye liked chapter 17, luv. It was a blast ta write! No, Barbossa is dead. I cannot stand the man so he will be turnin' in his grave, knowin' tha' Chris is prancin' aroun' with Jack. Sod 'im. I shall try me damned hardest t'keep the story goin'. Even when ye beg me ta stop...
Karibbean: I'm pleased ye liked their disguises, Chris certainly didn't. Hope this was soon enough, luv.