Greetings, friends, and I apologize for not updating sooner...a good friend of mine had a stroke and I haven't been much in the mood for writing here lately. But she's doing much better and so I finally got off my butt and set up the next installment. I know you are waiting to see what happens when Jack takes on Sin City, but that is coming up next chapter. Please be patient with me, as I am still doing research on Vegas attractions to make my descriptions more accurate and believable. Good things come to those who wait...heheheheh
As always, I don't own POTC or any of its characters, Just the ones I make up in my poor widdle brain. Enjoy!
Chapter 12: Jack Is Ready for Vegas…
Jo emerged from the steamy bathroom a short time later, wearing a thick white bathrobe, drying her hair with a fluffy looking white towel. Jack turned from looking out the window and raised his hands in apology. "About the flushing thing, luv…I didn't know…"
Jo favored him with a wry glance and chuckled. "Chill, Jack. Its my fault for not explaining 20th century plumbing to a 17th century scalawag. You're lucky I'm not a vengeful woman though, or I'd be sorely tempted to start the dishwasher when you're in the shower." At his confused look, she grinned and explained. "Dishwashers use up the hot water, and that action would give new meaning to the phrase 'shiver me timbers', savvy?" At his brooding pout, she shook her head and sighed. Standing in the doorway, she stopped drying her hair and looked at him thoughtfully. Seeing her staring at him, he spread out his arms and looked himself over before looking back at her for an explanation.
"Something wrong, luv? You're looking at me in a way which suggests that you find something about me that isn't pleasing."
Jo had stepped into the nearby closet, and she leaned her head out, giving him a dark, seductive look.. "Trust me, Jack Sparrow….you are definitely pleasing. Now, be a nice pirate and take off your clothes." At her words, Jack face broke into a wide grin and he began to strip off his coat. " I love these modern women…so deliciously forward!" he murmured to himself as he divested himself of his coat, belt, sash and vest. Just then his stomach growled ferociously, and Jack hesitated. "Much as I would like to accommodate your hunger for my body, wench, I think it would be wise for both of us to sate our other appetites first….. what say you?"
"I say that sounds like an excellent plan, Jack, but we need to make you look a little….umm, less conspicuous? That outfit was fine last night, it being Halloween and all, but you'll attract a bit more attention than you'd like if you went out like that today." Jo returned from the closet holding a pair of white cotton draw string pants, a dark blue UCLA long sleeve t-shirt and deck shoes. "My brother accidentally left these here when he came to visit this spring, and I hadn't gotten around to sending them back yet. You're about the same size, so they should fit. After your shower, we'll need to do something about your hair…"she said, laying the clothes on the bed.
"Oi, don't be getting any ideas about me hair, love…cause it's stayin', and I never agreed to this showerin' bit."
Jo sighed. "Honestly, Jack….for a bloodthirsty pirate, you're awfully vain." She grinned at his scowl. "I wasn't planning on cutting it, snookums, just….straightening it up a bit. And if you're planning on spending any more time in that bed with me, you will bathe regularly. You know…" her voice dropped an octave as she stepped even closer, tracing a pattern on his chest with a single finger. "Studies show that pleasant smells have a direct influence on primal…sexual…attraction." She punctuated each word with a soft kiss on each cheek and one on his mouth as he watched her suspiciously. "And I would be far more inclined to acquiesce to your requests in that department if you are willing to submit to a few of mine." She turned back toward the closet but didn't make it two steps before she was caught by one arm, pulled into his embrace, dipped over his arm and kissed until her head swam. When he raised his head she opened her eyes to find him looking down at her smugly. "Interesting word, submit…..means to abide or comply, but also means to yield, surrender, or capitulate. While I'm not overly fond of the former, having you eager to perform the latter definition definitely appeals to me wicked soul, so I concede this battle to you, m'dear." Swiftly sweeping her up in his arms, he deposited a stunned Jo on the bed, grabbed the clothes and popped into the bathroom, softly closing the door behind him.
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A short while later, a freshly showered and clothed Jack stepped into the kitchen, a damp towel around his shoulders. Jo giggled when she saw the farmers tan line across his forehead from the longtime wearing of his scarf, and at the grumpy expression on his face. The scowl turned to a look of marked displeasure when he examined her khaki shorts and spaghetti strap tank top. "I 'ope you're not planning to go out in public like that. 'Tis indecent, even by Tortuga standards."
She motioned him to the chair and took the towel from his shoulders, giving his head a brisk rub to get as much water out of his hair as possible. Setting the towel on the counter, she walked around in front of him." Why, don't you like it?" she teased, stepping in front of him and doing a pirouette, at which he growled and grabbed her by the hips to pull her near. "Aye, I like it, as will most of the male population of this village, and I'm not one for sharin'." Pleased by his jealousy, Jo pulled free and stepped to the bathroom, coming back a moment later with hairbrushes and a small pair of scissors. Seeing the cutting implement, he grabbed her hand and asked her in a low growl. "An' what do you plan to be doing with those, m'dear?"
Jo favored him with a scowl of her own. "Just like I said, Jack, evening your hair up a bit." Laying the scissors down and grabbing a brush she stepped behind him and began working through the back of his hair, which to her surprise, was not rough as she had expected but rather fine. She smiled as he grumbled when she hit snarls in his dreads, but other than that he seemed to be enjoying the experience as much as she was. "Don't worry, I happen to like that mane of yours, but I do think the beads are a bit much. You will be much too recognizable while wearing them."
With that her hands were grasped in his and held firmly. "And why exactly is that, hmmmm? Why would a pirate like me be recognized, as everyone I knew has been dead for over 300 years. The Royal Navy would be a bit out of its jurisdiction, wouldn't you think?" He pulled her around until she half sat, half fell into his lap, and she couldn't avoid his eyes or his serious expression. He touched her cheek and spoke again, very calmly, almost too calmly. "I get the feeling that there's something you're not telling me, am I right?" Jo took a deep breath and nodded, looking to the side before she began.
"Jack, you saw the figures in the museum and you recognized them as people from your time, right? Well, in my time, those people are fictional characters from a movie called Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl." She glanced up to see those chocolate brown eyes flicker, but they didn't waver as he sat waiting for her to continue. "The pictures of you on the wall of my studio weren't of you, Jack…they're of an actor named Johnny Depp who played the role of Captain Jack Sparrow in that movie. When we go out, we'll have to be careful or people will mistake you for him and mob you." Jo sighed again. "I made a wax figure of his likeness for the museum, and somehow you came to life on Halloween night and here we are. More importantly, I don't know how it happened or if it will last or if I am simply hallucinating this whole thing. All I know is that I want it to be real."
Jack sighed and rested his chin on her shoulder. "I am real, Jo….make no mistake about it. I don't have an inkling of how I came to be here, pirates honor. I remember a sea battle and being in darkness, and then…your voice, talking to me in the darkness. It was like being asleep, but I was semi-aware of things happening around me, and whenever you were near, I could sense your emotions. I was as surprised as you when you kissed me and suddenly I was moving, breathing….alive." At this point he leaned up and pressed his forehead to hers so that they were eye to eye. "For whatever reason, Jo, I've been granted a second chance to live, and I'm not going to question who, why, or how long." With that, he kissed her gently before he smirked and said in his captain's voice. "Now, wench, finish messing with me tresses so we can go hunt down some victuals and do the town up proper…..I'm famished and in dire need of rum!"
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(Back at the museum…)
'……damn that bitch….'
Michael Dixon cursed at the headache that still throbbed painfully at the back of his head. He had spent the morning dealing with the police after the night security guard had heard his shouts. How he had wound up on the floor tied up and covered in vomit, he still had no idea, as police had found no hard evidence and no motive for the assault. He had used the pretext of hearing a noise and being assaulted while checking it out for his presence in the display, and as he was the assistant curator of the museum, noone had dared question his authority or explanation.
He sat back on his desk and ran through the events of the previous evening. The party had been breaking up, and he had been certain that no-one had seen him enter the display. He had been enjoying having a semi-conscious Jo beneath him at his mercy when an unknown assailant had knocked him cold and hog-tied him before covering him with filth. Some friend of Jo's perhaps, although the voice with it's Cockney accent had been hauntingly familiar.
He sat bolt upright in his chair suddenly, his face turning pale. "I must be mistaken…..or is it just my imagination?" He leaped from the chair despite his aching head and walked to the display, gaping when his saw the ships wheel in its usual place, sans its captain. "I'll be damned….she stole the Captain!" '….her ass is really mine now…I'll have that slut arrested for this!…he thought, grinning with sadistic glee, and then his smile became calculating…unless…no..can't be…she brought him to life?……it is simply not possible….or is it?……'
Michael strolled back to his office, where he sat in deep thought for quite a while. Coming to a decision he flipped through his private rolodex before picking up the phone and dialing a number. Leaning back in his chair he waited for a response, and when the man answered, he went right to the point. "Max, it's Michael…..I need to set up a meeting with Madame right away…" A small, cold smile crossed his face as he continued. "You could say it's a matter of life and death."