Thanks you all so much for your kind reviews, and I hope you are liking this so far. I know many of you are eager to see the Captain come to life, and I am getting to that point, slowly but surely, so stay tuned! This chapter will give you a little more insight into some of the characters---as always, I do not own any characters from Disney's Pirates of the Carribean (I bet I am not alone when I say that I wish Johnny Depp was available on time share tho…hehehehe.blush) Anyway, here is chapter 5---enjoy, and please feel free to R & R if you would care to!

Chapter 5: In Hot Wax…..

Halloween night….6:44 pm

It was nearly time to "face the music", so to speak, and Jo was as nervous as a virgin bride on her wedding night. In fact, if it weren't for the fact that she would catch hell and possibly lose her job if she didn't assist with the unveiling of the new display, she would have been nowhere near the museum when it was open to the public, especially on a night like tonight.

Jo disliked crowds. No, that is putting it rather mildly…..I am scared witless of crowds, especially crowds of people dressed in strange and sometimes freaky costumes…a really bad phobia to have for a girl who worked in one of the worlds biggest casinos, for pity's sake. She had her parents to thank for her phobia, which she acquired at the tender age of 8 in the grand city of New Orleans. They had thought that it would be terrific fun for her to experience Mardi Gras, and she had thought it was great too, at least at first. The problem began when they failed to remain sober themselves and she had gotten separated from them in less time than it took to say "Fat Tuesday". Terrified and alone, she had tried to find them in the crowd of strangely dressed drunken celebrants, almost getting herself trampled in the process. The police finally found her after several hours, curled up in a ball in a doorway with her hands over her ears, dazed and confused. Ever since that time, large crowds petrified her, despite several years of therapy. Now she relied on her stash of Valium to get her through the times when she absolutely couldn't avoid stressful situations, like this evening

Opening her purse, she reached for the small bottle and made a mental note that it was time to get a refill, as there were only two pills left. She held the bottle in her hand, contemplating what to do. One might be enough, but there was a chance it would wear off halfway through the evening, whereas two would definitely loosen her up, perhaps too much. Throwing caution to the wind, she emptied the bottle and popped them into her mouth and followed it with a swig of water. That taken care of, she returned to putting the finishing touches on her costume.

Jo grinned at her reflection in the full length mirror of the ladies room, and chuckled at the reaction her choice of dress would bring. From the fat curls of her white wig to the buckles on her heeled shoes, she was definitely in period dress, so Michael didn't have grounds to fire her for insubordination. Turning, she picked up her accessories and left the restroom, stopping only briefly to drop her purse in the studio before heading to the exhibition hall.

"Jo, hold up, there's a love". Jo stopped and waited for Bethany, who was hurrying up to join her, a huge grin on her face. She looked entirely at home in her guise as a saucy tavern wench, her loose off-the-shoulder chemise displaying a tremendous amount of cleavage above the tightly laced black corset. Below that she wore a full length burgundy linen skirt, which was drawn up on the sides to display Bethany's petticoats and a fair amount of ankle above low heeled black slippers. A black ribbon was tied around her neck, and her normally short brown hair had been covered with a deep auburn long, curly wig topped with a linen mobcap. Her heavy application of eye, lip and cheek color made her ensemble complete. She looked as if she had been born to play the role of a 17th century barmaid.

Jo couldn't help but grin back as her friend stopped beside her, twirled around with skirts in hand and bobbed a curtsy before reaching out to link arms with her friend as they proceeded down the hallway. "How do I look?"

"You look positively, ahem, what's the word I'm looking for? Oh yeah, … buyable! Yeah, that's the word!" Rather than being offended, Bethany laughed, giving her arm a squeeze. "Then I got it right then! I was going for the "come ravage me, please" look." I just 'ope I can get through the evening in this rig", she complained loudly, scratching underneath the wig. "This bloody thing itches like hell!"

Jo grimaced and resisted to urge to scratch her own head, which itched fiercely beneath the wigs confines. " Quit your bitchin', wench! You should consider yourself lucky! I've got a ton of hot hair tucked up under here, and at least you don't end up with a handful of baby powder every time you touch yours!"

"That's true….but it really completes the style I was going for when I put together that outfit. I have to admit, you look stunning…I can hardly wait to see Michael's reaction!"

"Well, I think your wait is just about over, 'cause he's heading this way now, and I don't think he looks too happy….." Putting her tri-cornered hat on her head, she awaited the dreaded confrontation with Valium-enhanced calmness.

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"I bet you think you're clever, don't you, Josie?" Michael sneered down at her, anger evident in his eyes, motioning Bethany to move along. He stood before her dressed as Captain Henry Morgan, complete with cape, wig, goatee and plumed hat, which at the moment was bobbing with each word he spit out. "You knew what I meant when I said to dress appropriately in period costume, and this" indicating the British Naval officer's uniform she was wearing "isn't what I had in mind!"

"Well, Michael, you have only yourself to blame for that…..you said appropriate period costume, but you didn't specify male or female, and as you can see, I am completely authentic…" Jo's level gaze met his evenly, as his face grew red with his growing fury. "So the only one who has a problem with my costume appears to be you. And by the way, my name's not Josie."

He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her off to the side as other employees dressed as a band of pirates came by. "Don't think you're going to get away with this, Josie." He hissed, tightening his grip. "You have flaunted my authority for the last damn time. I'm going to have your ass for this."

Something inside Jo snapped, and instead of just brushing him off, she let him have it with both barrels. "You might, I repeat, might find some way to get my job, but my ass is something you're never going to have, Michael, and that's the one thing you can't stand. I've tried to be nice, but you just don't get it! I DON'T LIKE YOU! If you keep this up, I'm going to file suit against you for sexual harassment, so do us both a favor and go find someone else to piss off, ok?" With that, she shrugged her arm out of his grasp as he stared at her, his eyes narrowed.

"I don't think you know who you're dealing with, Josie…..and I don't take kindly to threats, especially from a two bit artist like you. You've just declared war, but it'll be me who wins." She tried to slap him, but he only blocked it and favored her with another of his famous smirks. "Attempting to physically assault your superior is grounds for dismissal, Miss Perry…I'm afraid I'll have to put that in your personnel file." He chuckled aloud, truly resembling the imfamous pirate he portrayed as Jo cursed and turned away, heading for the exhibit with him behind her, admiring her trim legs in the tight white uniform pants.