Author's Note: To those who have read and reviewed this story in its previous incarnation, I would be immeasurably grateful if you would care to give it another chance and tell me what you think about it. This is a composite of the three "chapters" I released previously along with a bit of a continuation and some minor corrections. I use the term "chapters" quite loosely as I write lots of very small often barely connected pieces (often merely one-liners) and then piece them together. I realize that this writing style is not very easy on my readers. I'd like to thank all people who have tolerated it and encouraged me to continue in spite of it all. Without further adieu I would like to present (drum roll please)... the disclaimer
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Pirates of the Caribbean although I would love to own Jack.
"Drop anchor."
Everyone ignored her.
"Drop anchor!"
Finally Pérola stripped down to britches and her shirt and kicked off her boots.
"Do not lose these," she said, shoving her effects at a passing sailor. With that remark she dived into the water. Jack let out a string of curses, removed his pistol and hat and dove in after her.
"What the hell do you think you're doin'!" he growled.
"Getting you to drop anchor" she stated calmly.
Jack turned his attention to the Pearl, realizing that she had indeed stopped. He scowled at her as she started swimming back to his ship. Once she reached the side and had snagged the rope his crew had tossed out for him she began climbing. Her shirt was soaked with salt water and clung to her skin, which somehow managed to be freckled and tan at the same time. If you looked closely you could see scars running down her back and arms; some of them disappearing below her britches. Her wet clothing reveled a strong, slender, and almost boyish figure. She reached the deck and reclaimed her effects from the startled sailor she had left them with.
She was settling her hat over her bandanna and salty sun bleached hair when Jack was unceremoniously hauled to the deck by several of the crew. When Jack had gathered himself together from the tumbled heap in which he had been ungracefully deposited on deck he repeated his question. "What the hell do you think you're doin'!"
She repeated her answer. "Getting you to drop anchor."
"In case you hadn't noticed, the Pearl is MY ship now."
"I don't dispute that. You won her fair and square, but this is MY treasure we're after, and sailing right over it doesn't make us any richer."
Jack gestured at the wide expanse of water surrounding the ship. "There's nothing here love."
"Stop calling me love!" She said. "This particular treasure is currently residing in Davy Jones' locker."
"Would you care to enlighten us all as to how you intend to be getting it then?"
A sly smile crossed her face. "I'm going to go down there and I'm going to take it."
"Well that explains everything then."
With an exasperated sigh Pérola explained the details of her plan.