CHAPTER EIGHT
Arguments Aplenty

The baking afternoon sun glared upon the deck of the Black Pearl, unrelenting in its heat. There was a cool wind blowing, and yet it seemed that the huge black sails were gulping in every morsel of the breeze, leaving none to placate the crew who toiled beneath them. Despite this, the men carried on working in full swing (though cursing all the while), laughing at each other's jokes and keeping their eyes to the distance, waiting until Antigua appeared.

But Jeanette was not among them.

She had been waiting there on that morning of two days ago, on deck, watching Nevis fade away, lost to a daydream, when his voice had come out of nowhere, causing her to start abruptly.

"You know, love, this isn't a pleasure cruise," she mimicked his words now as she swabbed the floor rather too vigorously. "I knew he'd say something like that, I just knew," here she punctuated the word with a violent jab of the mop, "he would."

Jeanette was below deck, attacking the galley floor with a passion, with whatever weapons she could muster.

Or, as Jack had put it, cleaning.

"Cleaning, me, I ask you," she ranted to herself, continuing to highlight certain words with stabs of the mop, "I'm not a maid, I'm a... I'm a governess, and he wants me to clean this like there isn't anything else I could... when he knows very well that I can... that I can't... that I could..."

She stopped both grumbling and mopping and, with a deep sigh, wiped her brow on the sleeve of what had become a filthy dress. Most of her was filthy now, her apron was almost black, her face was smudged all over, her hands were calloused and dusty, and her hair (whilst still tied back) was a darker brown than it had ever been, stained with gunpowder and grime and God-knows-what. All this provided a stark contrast to her skin, which was as pale as ever, her not having been up on deck except early in the morning and late at night. The overall effect, she imagined, was not most attractive.

"Not that I'd know," she took up the cleaning again with renewed ardour, "because, of course, these pirates don't have a single mirror, there's not a single bloody... content to wallow in their own... and let me... and he makes me... when he..."

"First sign of insanity, Etty."

Jeanette almost jumped at the sudden voice from behind her, but caught herself just in time, and managed to curb her response to just a stiffening of the shoulders and an even tighter grip on the mop. No, it wouldn't do to jump, or shout, or scream, or make any response of that kind. Not when she knew very well that the voice belonged to him. Stay cool, Miss Jeanette, stay calm.

"What is?" The tone of the question was just as she wanted, sharp, disdainful, and wonderfully indifferent.

"Talking to yourself." Oh, she could just see his smug expression, his coy grin. She was going to... but no, no, that wouldn't do at all. Remember, Jeanette. Cool. Calm. Wonderfully, blissfully indifferent.

First sign of insanity is it? I wonder when you started doing it? Yes, that was it. Keep it all in the mind, all in the mind and in the thrusts of the mop and the grinding of the teeth. That would do it. Any minute now he'll leave; he'll have done his aggravating for the day.

But apparently Jack was not done with her, because the departing footsteps that Jeanette was so eagerly anticipating did not come. Turning round, she saw with more than a slight twinge of frustration that he was - to all intents and purposes - staying put; he was leaning nonchalantly on the wall with one hand, head inclined to one side, the picture completed by that very grin Jeanette had visualised in her mind.

"I came to tell you the good news."

"What? You decided to take me back to Nevis and forget this whole thing?"

"Now, now," he shook a finger at her. "We're coming up to Antigua. We'll anchor down till nightfall and then..."

"And then?"

"Then the real insanity beings."

"Oh yes?" Jeanette raised one eyebrow quizzically as she propped the mop up against the wall, feigning almost non-interest in an attempt to hide the uneasy feelings she had as a result of his word choice. "And what form would this insanity take?"

"A little... expedition of sorts. Taking a jaunt into St. John's."

Jeanette turned sharply, and the mop fell to the ground with a clatter. But she made no attempt to pick it up, her eyes wide and mouth half-open in disbelief. "You're insane."

He grinned.

"It can't be done! You can't just... Jack, you can't just waltz into the capital of Antigua in a rowing boat! It's... it's..."

"Insane?" Jack suggested, half in seriousness. But Jeanette didn't even bother to respond to his quip.

"Jack, you can't be serious! It's guarded by Fort James, for God's sake! Fort James! It's one of the largest naval outposts in the bloody Caribbean, and you expect them not to see your boat!"

"We won't be in the boat for long, love," he bent down to pick up the fallen mop. "It's only a quick trip to shore."

Jeanette seemed incapable of saying anything, her mouth opened and shut without sound as she tried to give response that would sum up the range of emotions she was feeling a the moment - not one of them pleasant. Eventually, she managed to get out a single question, "We?"

Jack handed the mop to her. "You didn't think I'd go ashore without you, did you? Such little faith, it really breaks my heart." Seeing that Jeanette was still apparently speechless, he elaborated, "We're going to pick up that map I told you about."

"But... why do I..."

"Well, we're not exactly going to 'pick up' the map, per say," he continued as though he hadn't heard her question. "More... retrieve it from less worthy owners. And this method of retrieval could possibly mean you have to make an... impromptu translation of said map, savvy?"

"Oh, I see," the governess had found her tongue again. "We're not just sailing in a little dingy past one of the largest Naval outposts in the Caribbean for a jaunt into St. Johns, we're just sailing in a little dingy past one of the largest Naval outposts in the Caribbean to steal something, and then translate it in the dead of night, surrounded by militia, before making a stealthy getaway. I feel much more secure."

"And quite rightly so," he nodded in agreement with her sarcasm. "So - I'll see you at sundown then."

"I'm not going."

His grin widened at her words, and he twisted round, and was about to return to the deck when Jeanette spoke up again.

"I'm not going."

Jack groaned heavily, rolling his eyes. Women. Why did they have to be so... difficult? "Look, there's no need to fret, love, " he turned his head back to look at her. "I just need you there in case we only get a quick look at the map. We'll be in and out in a jiffy."

"I'm not going." Rather than sounding louder and firmer, as Jack would have expected on her repeating the statement a third time, she was quiet, practically whispering. "I'm not going to St. Johns. You can't make me."

"Let's not get into this 'make me' business again, Etty, " he sighed, exasperated, "we both know how this is going to go. You'll threaten me with your mop, I'll threaten you with me gun, gun will cancel out mop and that'll be the end of the matter."

Still she shook her head. "Jack, it's suicide. What if they -"

"Well they bloody won't, all right?" he snapped, striding over towards her. "I swear, you never used to be this -" But he halted his tirade, and his walk, when he noticed the steady rise of colour in Jeanette's cheeks. She was nigh hysterical already, heaven knew why, and hysterical and angry was likely not a good combination. "Look," he held up both his hands, as though trying to physically stop the red flush that was forming in her features, "look. It'll be fine. We'll be safe as houses, I promise."

Jeanette sniffed disdainfully. Apparently she had a very low opinion of his promises. Perhaps this was wise, considering they were the promises of a pirate, but still...

"Look, I'm sure there's a spare cutlass lying around somewhere, or a flintlock. You'd look very dashing and ferocious, I'm sure, with a pistol tucked down your apron." Jack tried to make light of the situation, but his suggestion backfired, for no sooner had he finished than Jeanette's sharp words began again.

"You want to arm me? Are you mad? If they catch me with a gun, they'll take me in for sure! You pick up a weapon, you become a target! You know that! How could you even think that -"

"All right! All right! You'll have swords, no guns, daggers, or bloody bows and arrows - no weapons of any kind, presumptuous a thought as it might be! But for the Lord's sake, don't - just stow it, woman!"

For a moment Jack though she was going to start screeching again, and he prepared to cover his ears. But to his eternal joy he only received a murderous glare (not something he usually took pleasure in receiving, but given the circumstances), before she began once more to jab the floor with the mop, with such vigour that he wondered for a moment if she intended to bore a hole right through the wood.

"I'll see you at sundown," he repeated his farewell, and this time there was no interruption from the governess, though he felt her angry eyes fixed upon him as he turned. Just as well. He had things to do, preparations to make. Maps had to be consulted to find a suitable cove to anchor in, he had to assemble a boarding party, and, of course, the ship wouldn't sail herself.

And so he left, leaving Jeanette alone, with nothing but a mop and her thoughts for comfort.

There's nothing to worry about. She mentally reassured herself. It'll be just like Jack said. It's a quiet night, the ship's well hidden - no one will be expecting a thing. Keep your head down and no harm done. No harm done. With that she threw herself into task, quickly picking up the old rhythm of curses and oaths, blocking all misgivings and fears with the tedious chore.

No one would be expecting a thing.

Neither she nor Jack had any idea how wrong the statement would prove to be.

A/N: Sorry it's taken me so long to update, and that this update itself is rather short. I've had exams, coursework, and have more still to come, so expect it to be another month or so before the tale can really start up again.

I've removed all the older author's notes where I replied to reviews, as apparently it's against the rules. From now on I'll reply to all reviews via email or PM, and author's notes will only be on the latest chapter, and will be removed when the next one is uploaded.

Once again, thank you for your patience, and I hope you're enjoying the story!