Chapter 2: Hide the Cutlery

Jack Sparrow carefully made his way along the deck and knocked briefly before allowing himself into Cherise's cabin. "Mornin' luv, I thought you'd be in 'ere," he chuckled, remembering full well her disgust at being locked in the cabin.

SMASH. A cup narrowly missed his nose and shattered against the wall.

"Bloody pirate! Indecent, DISGUSTING—"

Still eyeing the cup as if it were an anomalous intruder on the morning's peace, he muttered, "Aye, you're not still mad are you?"

SMASH.

"MANIPULATIVE, INSUFFERABLE BUFFOON! IGNORANT—"

Jack fled from the cabin and shut the door behind himself just in time to barely avoid another piece of tableware. He stood with his back against the entrance for a moment while his mind caught up with him. "Come now, can't we" –SMASH– "talk about this, luv?"

"GO TO HELL, JACK SPARROW!"

"...Captain. Captain Jack Sparrow." He corrected mechanically. Deciding it would be better, and considerably less painful, to give her a little space, he walked briskly to the other end of the ship to check on the crew. After all, she had to get hungry and want to come out sometime, right?

By dinnertime, the waves rose slightly as a careful wind drove them ahead. Jack fumbled with his compass absent-mindedly, overlooking the sea from the Captain's post. What if she refused to eat? Ah, but he had the cure for that, he assured himself. It would be a shame, her starving to death, though it would save everyone a trip to Tortuga to stock up on cutlery. He admired her fiery disposition, the makings of a real pirate, but couldn't help hoping she would stop throwing things. How many plates did she think they had on this ship? Such a waste. He put the compass away. "Gibbs! Barrow!"

Two pairs of rushing feet emerged behind him. "Aye, Capt'n?"

"Bring Cherise to the... dinner... place... thing." He waved his hands to make up for the word.

"Aye. But wou' tha' be a good idea?"

Jack frowned. "Are you saying, mate, that I have bad ideas? Have they ever gotten you in trouble before? ...Don't answer that."

Gibbs shifted his weight to the other foot uneasily. "Well, firs' of all, she would demolish dem plates. And 'en dere's de crew who woun't mind punishin' 'er for it..."

Jack thought for a moment. "You're right. Bring her to my cabin instead!"

Barrow and Gibbs exchanged glances.

"Well, get to it, lads!"

"Right, Captain!" Recognizing a bad time to ask questions, they scurried away.

Meanwhile, Jack strolled calmly into his cabin and sat down behind his desk to finish a letter he'd started writing earlier. The quill moved freely in his hand, making bold ebony curves and dashes on the bleak yellow parchment. Dip, stroke, dot. Contrast. An invasion of meaning. The candles' flame quivered, quick to hide from the sea breeze that flew in through the open window and spread around the smell of the food. Tonight's cook had prepared a small banquet for them upon the captain's request. Food, after all, made people happy, and Jack was silently pleading it would pacify, if only just a little, the livid damsel about to be shoved into his cabin. His hand subconsciously rose to his cheek; he knew all too well the phrase "hell hath no fury like a woman scorned."

In a few minutes Cherise was brought in, struggling and yelling, of course. The two pirates pushed her inside and shut the door behind her just as she turned around to bang on it in anger. After a few blows her hands were throbbing with pain. With one last assuaging thump, she gave up and turned around, glaring at Jack as he put the pen and paper away.

"Evenin', luv." He motioned to the chair across from him. The desk, or table, was covered with different plates (metal ones, Cherise noted) and on them was a feast fit for a queen. Exotic fruits, fresh roasted fowl, wine and all kinds of things she couldn't identify. She tore herself away from the sight to scowl at her company.

"Sit." He said more commandingly. "You haven't eaten a bite since yesterday and we can't have you dying of hunger on this ship."

"I would rather die a thousand deaths than dine with a filthy creature like you!"

He sighed. "Now, was that really necessary?" Cherise didn't budge. Jack furrowed his brows. "Lass, you'd best sit down before I have to get up and make ye..."

"Hmph!" She hesitated for a moment, but decided the better of it and lowered herself to the chair, chin held high in defiance.

"Rum?" Without waiting for an answer, he poured her a glass.

"No."

"Very well, suit yourself. You have to eat something." He leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the corner of the table, as if to say 'I'll wait here all night if I have to.'

"No!"

A strange smile crossed his lips. "Oh? Well, what if I offer you..." he took out a small tray with a few brown cubes on it, "...chocolate."

Her eyes widened. Chocolate? That was rare indeed; she'd only had it once as a child, and what a delightful treat it was. Jack saw her expression and his smile widened into a grin. Worked like a charm. He swayed the tray from side to side before her nose for effect while she tried desperately to turn away.

"Fine." She finally muttered and grabbed the tray. "You have my attention."

"That's better, lass." He took a swig of rum. "Now, you are probably wondering why I have, eh... invited you to join me on this here ship."

She looked up momentarily from her plate to give him a look. "You hit me over the head and dragged me here against my will! And do not make the mistake of thinking I will hesitate to run once the chance arises."

"Technically, I did no such thing. But regardless, if you'd like to leave now..." his eyes wandered to the window overlooking the sea.

She followed his gaze, annoyed. True, she had nowhere to go, they were in the middle of an ocean. "Very well. Why did you, so to say, 'invite' me to journey with you to who-knows-where?"

"Ah. You see..." He took another swig of rum and was silent for a moment. "Tell me, luv, do you miss your family?"

"I am an orphan, I never knew my parents. I was found abandoned as a baby on a beach and picked up by a fisherman who became my father. But yes, I miss him, thanks to you." Her large sea-colored eyes seemed to cloud over with an overwhelming emotion, but only for a split second. She blinked and it was gone.

"Mmm..." Jack nodded and sat in silence for a few long minutes, his own eyes narrowed in thought.

Cherise finally ran out of patience and cleared her throat. "And my reason for being on this ship, Captain?"

He looked up. Dropping his feet and placing his elbows on the table, he pressed his fingertips together, gesturing. "Let's just say... in time you will be of use to me." His eyes glinted furtively, enticing her curiosity.

She dropped her fork, fire returning to her gaze. "Excuse me!"

He sat back and rolled his eyes. Why did everybody always assume the worst of his words? Oh, that's right. "Look, dearie, I know you find me devastatingly attractive and remarkably suave," he momentarily stopped to pose, swaying a little, "but really now, if I wanted to take advantage of you, don't you think I would've done it already? Do lighten up a little." He motioned conclusively to the table between them, having made his point.

She turned away to hide the subtle rosy hue of her cheeks, secretly mortified of her misinterpretation, but obeyed the captain for the first time. For a few minutes, they both ate in silence. However, curiosity at last overpowered indignant humility, and Cherise wiped her mouth with a napkin. "You wouldn't by any chance happen to be the same Jack Sparrow who was involved in the strange affairs of Port Royal about a year ago?"

"The one and only, luv."

Her eyes brightened. The flame of interest had been ignited once again. "Then you know all about the Isla de Muerta and the curse of the Aztec gold?"

He raised an eyebrow. "What I'd like to know is why you do."

"I don't, really, they're just stories my father used to tell me... Stories about an island that cannot be found except by those who already know where it is, which really doesn't make any sense if you think about it because somebody had to have found the island in the first place, or else it would still be a mystery, right? But how could they have found it if it cannot be found?" Jack rolled his eyes as Cherise continued, oblivious. "And stories of cursed gold that turned people into monsters that were neither dead nor alive, condemned to wander the earth forever unsatisfied. Of course, they're just stories." She laughed, but upon noticing Jack's piercing stare, her laugh subsided. "...They're not... real, are they?"

"As a matter of fact, everything you have just said is indisputably true." Jack once again sat forward.

"But how can th—"

"Moreover, the royal navy did indeed fight with a crew of undead pirates under the command of Captain Barbossa and aye, they were skeletons in the moonlight's glow. Before you ask." He sat back.

She stared at him, dumbfounded. "But... but wouldn't stories like that be kept with the utmost secrecy, not be told as tall tales all over the globe?"

"Unless no one would believe them." He grinned, demonstrating a few gold teeth.

Cherise couldn't help smiling, but remembered she was supposed to be angry and frowned. "Very well, Captain. My gratitude for dinner, which I am sure you will extend to the cook. And now I suppose I must retire to my cabin, which I will be locked into again, no doubt."

"Your cabin wasn't locked last night."

"What!"

"You cabin wasn't locked."

Cherise's hands curled into fists on her hips.

"But like you said, of what use would it be to you to leave it?"

She let out an angry puff which ruffled her bangs. "Fine."

He chuckled, getting up, and performed a somewhat uncoordinated curtsy, his arms swaying in either direction. "Allow me to escort you to your cabin, darlin'."

Reluctantly, she took his arm, clandestinely relieved that she wouldn't have to walk outside and deal with the crew alone. Now if she could just deal with herself for the meanwhile...