Disclaimer: POTC is not mine. Well, knock me down with a kipper.
A/N: Isn't this nice? A long chapter! Just what you wanted!
Squirrel takes a drink from one of the waiters. She is beginning to feel a little more at ease. So this is a wedding reception, she thinks, sipping at the tart liquor daintily. She decides almost immediately that she doesn't like it. The liquor, not the reception.
"Having fun, Miss Grey?" The woman called Flora asks with a grin. "This has got to be, without a doubt, the most extravagant party I've ever been to!"
"Only the best for the governor's little girl," Penelope says with a smile. "But can you believe the amount of guests? It's like the whole town is here."
Squirrel casts her eyes over the crowd. Is he here yet?
Flora sees Squirrel's wandering eyes. "Who are you looking for, Rose? Your mystery man?"
Squirrel laughs, pinking only slightly. "Actually, I am." Her words are crisp and musical. I wish I could keep this accent forever. No more stammering for this Squirrel.
"Saints!" Annabel squeals. "Here comes Commodore Norrington! Do I look alright?"
"He's coming this way!" Penelope squeals at the same time. The gaggle of girls quickly preen themselves, then pretend to be uninterested as a man approaches. Squirrel half-turns from the man and takes a hesitant sip from her glass. She heard the story from Will, Jack and Elizabeth. Norrington was not portrayed favourably. I've never met him, Squirrel reminds herself. I shouldn't act like I think I do …
"Good afternoon, ladies." The Commodore says, taking off his hat and bowing. Squirrel wonders briefly if the man could sound any more bored. "Are you enjoying yourselves?"
The girls giggle and flutter their fans. Squirrel tries not to smile over the rim of her glass. Like anyone couldn't see that they're flirting. Norrington seems to notice Squirrel for the first time.
"I beg your pardon, Madam, but I don't believe I've seen you here before."
"Oh," Flora butts in, "This is Miss Rose Grey. She's visiting Port Royal for the wedding."
"Really?" Norrington inclines his head to Squirrel. "Well, I trust that your stay so far has been pleasant, Miss Grey?"
Squirrel smiles. "It has. Thankyou kindly, Commodore." Jack has to be here somewhere…
Jack tosses back another glass of tart liquor. He places it back on the waiter's tray and takes another. The waiter waits impatiently, trying not to sneer.
"Piss-weak stuff." Jack comments with a grin. The waiter sniffs, and takes his tray full of empty glasses with him as he walks away. Jack ignores the man. He casts his eyes about, looking for Squirrel. She said she'd be here. She should be here... somewhere. He searches the groups of girls, looking for the familiar dress. But the ruffles and lace look all the same to him. Some of the women catch him staring, and flutter their fans and giggle. Jack grins, about to raise his hand in salute, but he catches himself just in time.
"She's 'ere somewhere." He mutters under his breath as he turns away. "She has to be." He catches sight of Norrington talking to a group of women. Jack glances over the faces, but sees no-one he recognises. He looks away.
"Perhaps, Miss Grey, later on you would do me the honour of a dance?"
Squirrel feels her face turn bright scarlet. A dance… with someone I barely even know? "I would be honoured, Commodore Norrington." She smiles, trying to hide her discomfort. Norrington bows again, then wanders off to mingle with the other guests.
"How did you do that?" Flora asks, party in awe and partly in jealousy. "It's like he wasn't looking at anyone else!"
"Why is it always the newcomers that get all the men?" A woman named Dana complains. Squirrel bows her head, biting her lip.
"Just like that man over there." Flora comments with a wave of her hand. "I haven't seen him around here before, but Lucille already has plans to ask him to dance. If you ask me, though, the man looks a little rough-and-ready. And what's with the kohl? Only women should wear that much makeup."
Squirrel feels her heart suddenly lift. "Where is he?"
Flora raises an eyebrow. "Who, the man with the eyeliner? He's over there." She smirks. "I thought you were waiting for your mystery man."
But 'Rose' is already gone, her skirts rustling around her, her half-empty glass held tightly in one hand. The women watch as Squirrel hurries through the crowds, barely avoiding waiters with trays and glances from the other guests.
"Well," Annabel comments after a moment, "Rose is a character, make no mistake."
"Such a flirt." Flora sniffs. "Waiting for one man to dance with her, tricking Norrington into a dance, and now she's chasing after a man with makeup issues."
Penelope nods. "But Elizabeth did say that Rose was one of her closest friends."
"And that means what to us?" Flora says, raising a delicately thin eyebrow.
The women gossip amongst themselves. Only Dana stays out of the conversation. She looks up at the fort walls. A clump of blue and yellow feathers lands on the flag pole, makes a loud squawk, then launches itself into the air again. Dana frowns for a moment, wondering, then allows herself to be pulled back into the party. There are more than enough guests here to talk to.
Squirrel pulls up short. There's Jack, but he's not dressed in his normal pirate attire. What he's wearing is more like a suit, compared to what he usually wears anyway, with a long red cape. At least his three-cornered hat is recognisable. Squirrel smiles. It seems like every guest has given him a wide two-meter radius. It must be because he already looks drunk. Since when does he ever stop looking drunk? Squirrel smothers a giggle, then takes a deep breath and steps forward.
Jack looks up, then out at the guests again. "Sorry, luv." He says, distracted. "But I'm waiting for someone. Looks like you'll have to ask someone else to dance."
Squirrel doesn't know whether to laugh or cry. Jack doesn't even recognise me! This could be interesting… "Care for a drink, sir?" She holds out her half-empty glass. Jack shakes his head.
"Told you, Miss." He says, not unkindly. "I'm waiting for someone."
He doesn't even recognise my voice! It must be my accent. "And who might that be, sir?"
"A lass. Never mind who."
"But I might know her, sir. What is her name?"
"Miss Grey."
"Oh, Squirrel."
Jack looks more carefully at the woman smiling sweetly at him. He squints for a minute, then gasps.
"Squirrel? That you?"
Squirrel bites her lip, but keeps smiling. Jack steps back slightly, trying to see the extent of Squirrel's transformation. Her hair is styled above her head, there's a bit of makeup on her face, she wears the same second-hand dress, but other than that there's not much changed. Yet somehow, she seems completely different. Jack grins and bows, trying to hide his shock.
"Well, Miss Grey…" He stops, and rocks back on his heels. "I do believe you were offering me a drink?"
Squirrel hands Jack the glass. "Jack," she whispers, "Everyone here thinks my name is Rose Grey."
Jack tosses back the rest of the drink. "After your mother?" Squirrel nods. Jack sets the glass down. "I got it, luv. No need to worry about that. Now…" He casts his eye around the crowd, and sees the musicians raising their instruments to play.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" A man announces, "Mister and Mrs William Turner!" The bride and groom appear, greeted by music, cheers and applause. Jack puts his fingers to his mouth and whistles. Squirrel tries not to giggle.
Elizabeth looks over and sees Squirrel and Jack standing together. She looks at her new husband, silently demanding an explanation. Will pretends not to notice Elizabeth's reaction. He leads his new bride to the centre of the tent and slides an arm around her waist. Just as Elizabeth opens her mouth to angrily demand to know what the hell Sparrow was doing at her wedding, Will quickly kisses Elizabeth, holding her face against his. Hard. The crowd claps and cheers louder, unaware of Elizabeth's near temper-tantrum.
Jack blinks. "Is he supposed to do that?"
Squirrel raises an eyebrow. "I think that Mrs Turner saw you, and Will is trying to cover it up."
"Fair enough." Jack looks sideways at Squirrel. "That's an interesting accent, Rose."
Squirrel blushes, then speaks in her crisp English accent. "I always was a good actor."
The band continues to play, and people are dancing now, slow and graceful. Will seems to be having a heated whispered conversation with Elizabeth as the two of them dance together.
Squirrel feels a hand brush hers. "Miss Grey?" Jack bows, beads clinking. "Could I have the honour of this dance?"
Squirrel smiles, and lets Jack slide his arms around her shoulder and waist.
"Can you remember the steps?" She asks softly, putting her hand on Jack's shoulder.
Jack smiles. "I reckon I can, Miss Grey."