Hi, me again...you remember me, right? That crazy girl who stole your gym shorts last year and ran around with them on her head?...No? Good, cuz that wasn't me.

Oki, I'll quit bothering you now. As always: I own nothing. I'm going mouse-hunting, soon, though, so we'll see.

B.T.W., this chappie is dedicated to my nanny (grandmother) who's in hospice.

And onward! To the next chapter. R&R and as always, enjoy! ; :huggles random squirrel: ;

Horse of a Differ'nt Color

"I'm fine," Jack insisted. The sudden ache in his stomach was already ebbing away, after all. And the throbbing in his head had eased back into the average remains of a hangover. "But you, on the other hand, need a break. Look at you, ye can hardly breathe."

"Good point." She dropped the subject, but remained worried. They ended their session here, just a little shorter than usual—but these sessions were always short, after all, since her mentor had a ship to captain.

Butover the next two days, that worry swelled and grew. Though her mastery of swords was getting progressively better, which meant he was trying harder, his physical state seemed to get progressively worse. Finally the fourth day came, and Port Royal came into sight. As the Black Pearl sailed toward a hidden cove, things went downhill. Jack had to physically shake himself out of some daze, and mentally 'woke' to hear the Willy Wonka Song, belted out by the insane teen. No worries of being heard, though—her voice was considered quiet most times, compared to his definition of loud, even now, and they were still about a league away from land. She was becoming annoying—But she's only doing what's familiar to her...being thrown from one element to the next, and on to another just as she was beginning to adjust, he reasoned. True, she was already out of place on the Pearl, but think of how out of place she would be considered in Will and Elizabeth's society. It takes a lot to make that sort of adjustment, especially for an insecure teenager.

It seemed only moments later that they were at the outlet of the cove. Scouts were sent in the jolly boat to make sure it was safe. If it was, Jack would escort the young girl to Will's smithy and explain. But the boat had barely hit the water, him leaning over the bulwarks to scan the coast, the girl beside him, when his head began to throb. His heart began to pound, and his stomach did a few somersaults. He retched, and suddenly felt faint. The world around him was spinning, and he put an arm around the girl's shoulder for support. But it was no help. He swayed dangerously, still leaning over the bulwarks, and lost his footing, falling over the side and taking the girl with him.

Jack opened his eyes. His head still throbbed and his ears tingled. He could not feel his hands of feet fully, and he found himself in an odd position on his side. He felt weak, extremely weak, and eased himself on to all fours. It took the same amount of effort as standing up would have, had he only had a hangover to deal with. Something was wrong. He could tell that right as he took a wobbling 'step' forward: his body seemed to hold itself naturally on all fours...but he immediately dismissed it as effect from whatever illness he must be suffering. He hobbled into the surf and sighted the Black Pearl. They were lowering many boats, now, prolly to search for them...wait a minute, they were pulling the boats up, not lowering them...they had given up searching and getting ready to make way. They could not risk staying here too long—the Royal Navy sailed in these parts, after all! Jack called out, trying in vain to wave his arms and command their attention, but his voice was so hoarse he couldn't make sense of what he was saying. Something was very, very wrong.

XxXxXxXxX

Aboard the Pearl, a few sullen-faced sailors chanced one last sorrowful glance toward the shore as they cast off. Jack was nowhere to be found, but they had to leave. With the Navy so close, they could never stay in these waters very long. Upon gazing toward that coast, they pointed and marveled at a horse, rearing in the surf and pawing the air. They watched it in awe—it was the picture of freedom: a beautiful stallion, wild as thunder across the land, pawing the air as if to mark that the land was his. A good omen, some might say...

XxXxXxXxX

Jack didn't understand. They were looking at him, even pointing in some cases, but nothing was happening. His ship was not slowing. What could be going on? He looked at his reflection in the water, wondering if his fall had somehow altered his appearance. A sable horse gazed back at him, black skin prominent around his muzzle and eyes, a white blaze running down the center of his snout. A matted forelock fell in his eyes, beads still woven into braids and the like. He drew back with a startled snort, now realizing the truth. His crew weren't coming back for him. Suddenly, the Willy Wonka song began playing in his head, causing him to remember the girl. His ship would come back for him eventually. He knew.

Amy regained consciousness and immediately wished she hadn't, for at once she was consumed by a violent fit of coughing, her lungs forcing up the sea water. Once her lungs had emptied themselves as much as possible, she lay back down on the beach, taking deep breaths, weakened by the whole ordeal. The surf caressed her with gentle wavelets, and she was just about to close her eyes when she remembered Jack had fallen overboard, too. She eased herself into a standing position and limped up the coast, calling out his name once she found his effects, his hat, even tatters of his clothes. She heard a sound behind her and whirled around, managing to spook a friendly horse which had been following her. The two calmed, and she greeted the animal as she would a person. "Ach, hallo, Herr Pferd!" ((Ah, hello, Mr. Horse!)) It replied with a warm nicker, and she stepped back to admire it. A stallion, tall—close to seventeen hands, she wagered—and slightly lanky, reminding her somewhat of a foal. But it just made him look even handsomer, gave him an almost ageless look. He had ears longer than they should have been, but he wasn't a mule. A very attractive specimen indeed. He nudged her in the stomach with his snout, and she assumed he was friendly enough to pet. She started at his neck, since most horses like that, and worked her way back to his face, her hand resting on his whiskery, velvety muzzle. "Ich kann nicht meine Spätzle finden. Weisst du? Wo ist Spätzle, hmm?" ((I can't find my little sparrow. Do you know? Where is little sparrow, hmm?)) She had no idea why she was all of a sudden speaking in German. Damn, school was invading her brain even now. She dropped her hand away. The stallion nudged her again, this time nearly knocking her over. "Quit that. Sorry, boy, but I gotta go find someone." She set off, careful not to turn her back as she didn't know this creature very well. Walking almost sideways, she set off down the beach again, calling out Jack's name as she went. After another minute or so, she silenced herself. Jack was obviously not responding, and she was not helping by calling for him. For all she knew, she could be within earshot of Navy soldiers and giving away their positions—Jack could have already been captured, at that! "Great." She sat down and hugged her knees, her breaths coming shorter and shorter. She swallowed, trying to fight back tears as she had a panic attack. She took a deep breath, murmuring to herself, "You're oki, Amy, everything's fine. You're just a little lost. With no money. And no idea where you are. Fine, you'll just have to find your way into town and get any news on Jack's whereabouts. Mebbe find Will and ask him. Yeah, he'll prolly help you out." She swallowed, her guidance to herself not calming her in the least. The horse nickered behind her, blowing his sweet-smelling breath against the back of her neck. She jumped as he came next to her and eased down to his stomach, folding his legs neatly so they were nearly beneath him. She leaned against his side, taking comfort in his oddly-familiar presence and draping an arm over his back, trying to relax as they both stared out over the horizon.

Come on, now, Ames, is this really any way to think? There's no need to panic just yet, aye?

Amy looked up and around wildly—Jack had taken to calling her 'Ames' when he wasn't submitting to the transsexual nickname theme. "Jack?" The stallion turned his head to look at her with intense, brown eyes. "Hey, buddy," she crooned to the beast. "You know where Captain Jack is?"

Ames, I know this is crazy but it's me.

The lass looked around once again. "I know it's you, Jack. But where are you?"

Well yer kind of draped over me shoulders, if ye know what I mean. Listen to me—do I sound like your average, every-day person to you?

She listened. True, she wasn't actually hearing spoken words: she was hearing horse sounds. Amy hastily shifted her weight off the horse and stared at it in surprise. Nah, it couldn't be. She ran her fingers absentmindedly through its matted mane, combing out tangles here and there. She came across strings of beads and other baubles, including coins, the remains of a red scarf knotted in, and even a piece of a bone, sticking out slightly from the other side of his mane. The horse shifted one of his forelegs, nudging her shin lightly with it. On closer examination, she saw a brand in the shape of a 'P', universally symbolizing piracy, and a number of black lines in the dark fur. She could barely make out the shape of a sparrow flying out over the horizon into a rising/setting sun. The stallion allowed her to examine his other foreleg, noting the myriad of scars along the back of his cannon. She let her hand explore, probing gently along his chest until she felt her fingers slip into a couple of large, unnatural indents. "Jack...what happened?"

Jack whinnied a response, which for some strange reason she understood. Not sure...but whatever it is, I seem to be a member of the equine family, now.

"Lucky! I've always wanted to be a horse." Jack flicked an ear skeptically—horses used body language as much as or more than vocal---and she understood this to be a 'Why?' "Because they always seem to be having so much more fun. They're so much more 'with it'...I don't know—it's hard to explain." Jack heaved a sigh: what she said seemed true. No wonder he'd been so calm, so connected these past couple of hours. Then it dawned on the girl. "Eohippus, duh!" She clapped herself on the head. "Why didn't I make that connection? Eohippus means 'Dawn Horse'. It was the earliest ancestor of the horse. You said that fruit had magical properties? That's why you're a horse. It was that fruit what did it...and since I ate some too, that might explain why I can understand and yes," she finished in tones indicating she was talking only to herself. "Dang, it was so obvious!" Jack rolled his eyes and snorted again, his ears quirking as a person would quirk their eyebrows. "Hey, Jack," Amy said in a soft voice, the voice she used when around horses, "what are we going to do? I haven't the faintest idea as to where Port Royal is in relation to us, and even so, what would we do once we get there? Even if we manage to find Will, he won't believe a word of it! 'Specially not from the likes of me," she added, looking down at her non-feminine garb.

Jack grunted and made murmuring sounds. Would you believe I have a plan? His mouth quirked to one side, the equivalent of one of his lopsided grins. Hop on. She swung her leg over his short back and he scrambled up, cantering smoothly toward the destination he had in mind.

XxXxXxXxX

It was late morning, and the Caribbean sun was busy baking the land as it did every day. It made a woman glad her clothing shoppe was well-shaded. Business was slow, as expected; her shoppe was well out of way of the town. She looked up, startled, as a young lad strode in confidently, his chin lifted proudly. "'Ello, there," she greeted her customer, standing up to meet him.

He strode up to her and bowed with a flourish. There was a nicker from outside, and as if in response, the lad took her extended hand in his own and she felt the gentle caress of his lips. "Good day, Madam, and might I say you are looking lovely this fine morning."

She beamed. "Same to you, Monsieur. What can I help you with?"

"I was sent to find a new sarong for me sister," he drawled in some version of an English accent. His voice was already low, but had not yet fully matured. His dark hair was tied back, exposing a young jaw. He was barefoot, and his shirt was a bit baggy, but she was not one to turn away a customer. His left hand rested casually on the hilt of a cutlass positioned at his hip.

"Ah, well it just so happens that I finished one last night what I'm rather proud of. Would ye like t' see it, lad?" He nodded. She went over to one of the neat piles of clothing and pulled out a beautiful sarong, turquoise where it would come to rest on the hips and blending to blue at the bottom. "Will it suit yer sister, sir?"

"Hmm? Ah, yes, my sister. Aye, I think it will do very nicely. I'll take it." She grinned and rifled through a pile of papers to see what the cost would come to. But when she turned around to tell him, she found him gone, her sarong with him. She gathered her skirts and rushed out in hopes of catching him. But hehad disappearedwithout a trace. She had been robbed.

XxXxXxXxX

"That was awesome!" Amy exclaimed to Jack. She rolled up her pant-legs so they rested snugly above her knees and began to wrap the beautiful sarong about her waist. "Thanks for the advice...speaking of which—" she spat once and came up saying, "Remind me to never, never do that again." Of course she was referring to the manner in which Jack had advised her to greet the shopkeeper.

Jack ducked his head. Ye did a good job at it, though. Wouldn't it make sense to just have gone into town and acted like that in the first place rather than having to do this? Jack was a pirate, true enough, but he liked doing things the easy way, no extra hassle.

"Nuh-uh. Not-no-way, not-no-how. I'm not gonna seriously disguise myself as a guy. Especially for whatever length of time that would span and no. Just no."

If you say so.

"I do—and don't you forget it." Shefixed the belt back around her waist, adding the effects, and carefully scrambled onto Jack's broad back—good for bareback riding, mind you. Jack took off at a steady pace, his rider cradling his hat for him.

They had just reached the outskirts of town when Jack neighed more advice. Swing your left leg over to the right side—side-saddle like. Before she could argue or ask, he added, It's how women ride these days—and keep them knees covered. Apparently it's illegal to show 'em off round here, savvy?

"Oh, right—people still consider legs private parts, don't they?...Yeah, I think I read about that somewhere...oh how foolish man can be, always assuming the actions and appearances of women lewd and unnecessary." Jack snorted his grudging assent. As they returned to the journey at hand, she mentioned something about never having ridden a horse for so long.

You complaining?

"Not a chance! It's actually kinda cool—'cept I'm definitely gonna be sore tomorrow!"

Afternoon became evening as they rode through the center of town. I know it's somewhere near here...ah, there're the docks—I can retrace my steps from there.

"Huh?"

But Jack paid her no mind. He retraced his old steps, and soon they came to a relatively large building, a sign hanging above its large wooden doors animating a mallet striking metal. Jack sidled up beside these doors so his 'rider' could reach them without having to dismount. Amy raised her arm an knocked, each time sounding like a gun report in the silence as the sun slowly set. Within moments, there was a scraping noise as a wooden restraint was removed from its position blocking the door, which slowly creaked open...

Would that be considered a cliffie? Me no know... anyhow, hope you enjoyed! Review please!

Oh, and get this: I got a coconut from Genaurdi's. We're gonna open it today! Can't wait to try it! Yeah, it's really amusing to just shake it and hear the 'milk' sloshing around inside...cool!