Disclaimer: Anything created by Disney is not mine.
A/N: I was particularly pleased by how the first chapter turned out. It was supposed to be really short, but before I knew what was happening, pages started whizzing by. Well, I decided to get a head start on the next chapter. It will show a bit more of The Dancing Horizon and then the whereabouts of the Black Pearl. Responses to reviews will be at the end of the chapter. Enjoy!
PineAppleLint
* * *
Rain pelted Gallagher steadily on the back, the pit-pattering of the drops on her hat calming her. It had been five days since the departure from Isla de Fuego, yet she could still hear the gentle whispering behind her back of the disturbed crew. Pete stated shakily that the island fire had been a sign from the devil himself. This caused a quiet uproar amongst the men, their curious stares and silent wonder thickening the already humid air.
"Captain," Jacobs said, touching her shoulder softly to get her attention. She turned to face him, arching her eyebrows in silent question.
"How long do we have 'till Tortuga?" he asked, his hair plastered to his forehead, rainwater slowly swirling down his face like tiny waterfalls.
"Give it a week," Terrence informed him, "And we will be seein' it o'er the horizon."
"It will be nice to visit 'er again," Jacobs smiled, referring to Tortuga. Everyone spoke of the island like it was a living and breathing soul, full of life and spontaneity. No one could keep from her embrace for long. She smelled of smoke and the strongest of grog, and her appearance rugged and untrustworthy.
In Captain Gallagher's case, Tortuga now represented passionate excitement, the strong pull of attraction that couldn't keep her away from the man she dreamed about many sleepless nights, or caused her many sleepless nights. No matter. One week was all she had left to bear.
Jacobs was watching her drift off on her daydreams with a grin on his face. She snapped out of it and replied shortly, "We need a bit of repairs done to the bilge. We have a bit o' water in there. There's a hole somewhere."
"Repairs will be the last thing on me mind. When we reach Tortuga, I want a woman," Jacobs said light-heartedly.
"Why, aren't ye subtle," she joked, nudging him in the arm in a friendly manner.
It isn't me fault if I want to crack Jenny's tea cup," Jacobs laughed, "Ye know I get restless."
"Go and take that talk somewhere else," she said and pointed to the other men, "I would rather not hear about what ye'd like to do to some willin' gel."
"Aye aye, captain!" he bellowed as he saluted her, smiling. He walked off and began to talk to Gary as they both tied up some ropes that had come loose in the troublesome wind.
Her fingers went to her neck as a habit, finding the silver chain around her neck. She pulled out the necklace from between her breasts and ran the silver ring through her chilled fingers. The emerald sparkled in the sudden flash of fierce lightning off to the east, causing a green shadow to flicker across her face and disappear. The small key the old woman had given her was hanging from the chain as well. She polished it on her shirt, trying to dry it, but that didn't do much good since her shirt was soaked through.
The wind picked up and she bit her lip, her eyes turning upward to the sky. The storm was getting worse, and the last thing she wanted to do was try and ride it out and end up snapping a mast in two or destroying all her sails that had been mended only a couple weeks before.
"Drop anchor!" she ordered through the hiss of rain and wind combined, "Take down canvas!" The men scrambled to do the tasks quickly, for they must have been chilled to the bone. Pneumonia was the last thing they would want to be burdened with. Soon, Gallagher was the only one on deck as the men had went down below to dry off and get a bit of shut eye as they sat the storm out.
She barged into her cabin and shut the door solidly behind her, then stood still for a moment, feeling the unsteady rocking of the ship as it accepted the blow of crashing waves around her. It was if the sea was playing hot potato with the Dancing Horizon, and Gallagher had grown used to the topsy-turvy feeling.
Taking her black locks between her hands, she rang out the access water, watching as a puddle formed on the clean floor. She removed her boots and wiggled her toes, trying to get the blood flowing back to them.
Sighing, Gallagher unclasped her necklace and examined the key again, tracing the two grooves at the end with her dirty fingernail. What could this key be to? Was it so valuable that the senora had to trust whoever she came across to take it off of her hands? Senora Gerterrez knew about the fire, but how?
She smirked. Fortune teller mumbo jumbo? Yeah, right. She was never one to believe in fortune tellers, for the ones she always managed to come across were phonies looking for a few extra shillings.
Maybe the key unlocked the gates of Hell. Gallagher laughed at this thought, imagining Lucifer standing there, greeting her at the entrance, offering her a scone or some noon-day tea.
"Why, thank ye, Satan!" she proclaimed aloud, snickering, "I do enjoy the crumpets and jam. They are a bit warm for my taste, but lovely all the same. Where DO you find the time?"
Suddenly, she heard a crack. Gallagher glanced up at the ceiling, where a small 'chandelier' of sorts hung. It did not contain any sparkling crystals, but melted candles to use if she ever needed the extra lighting. It swung dangerously, and right as she made eye contact with it, it snapped, the heavy wood and chain fixing falling straight down, heading for her head.
"Holy shit!" she gasped and made a dive for it, skidding to the floor and covering her head. She was fast, preventing it from cracking her skull open, but not fast enough. The large object crashed to the floor, catching her left leg with it. She winced it pain, squeezing her eyes shut as her leg throbbed under the pressure.
What the hell had that been? Kicking the light fixture off of her leg, she stared at the leg of her breeches, which was soaking up a bit of blood. Raising the fabric, she cursed herself as she stared at the tiny gash and the large bruise that was starting to form.
She stood up with much difficulty, not putting any pressure on her left leg. She was going to have a limp for a while. Gallagher examined the ceiling, not figuring out how it had suddenly snapped. Much less how it happened while she was standing right underneath it.
Her hand went to her throat, and she realized her silver chain was gone, as well as the ring and the key. Glancing around the floor wildly, she found the chain peeking out from under her bed, and on it the emerald ring sat safe and sound. The key? She twirled around and found it tucked under the 'chandelier', covered with a drop or two of her own sticky blood that had dripped from her leg.
It sat there innocently, the rubies gleaming ominously in the dim glow of the confinement of her cabin. She picked it up wearily, staring at it as if it was a writhing cobra ready to strike.
Was it cursed?
She sure as hell hoped not.
* * *
::CLING::
::CLASH::
"You're a dead man, Sparrow," the British officer seethed, blocking the blows with skilled expertise yet his expression, besides the clenched teeth and enraged eyes, was flooded with nervousness.
The infamous Captain Jack Sparrow grinned toothily and jumped about on his toes, faking a yawn. "Is this all ye got? Me mum, rest her soul, can fight better than ye and she's been a corpse for fifteen years! Probably better lookin' than ye at the moment, too." The soldier snarled and lunged at Sparrow, who arched his back to prevent the razor sharp sword from skewering him like a trout.
The Black Pearl had taken another victim. They had the incredible luck to run into a merchant ship sailing under the red ensign (British flag), and Jack had clapped his hands excitedly as the opportunity had presented itself. About time he had the chance to put those Navy bastards in their place! He had gone a full two months without having the audacity to mess with military personnel. There was already a large price on his head, anyway. Why not mix things up a little?
Mr. Gibbs had led the Pearl crew aboard and taken the merchants by surprise, tying them up and locking them in their own cell. Now, it was up to Jack to handle the arrogant boatswain.
"You are a menace to respectable Caribbean society!" the soldier said angrily and tried to catch Jack off guard, to no avail.
"Why, thanks very much!" Sparrow said, batting his kohl-rimmed eyes, "This is quite an honor, I assure you." Jack's large brown coat billowed around him as he spun agilely, not letting his years of talent go to waste. He was always one to show off.
"I bet ye would like to know that right about now me crew is pillagin' all yer precious cargo," Jack said, trying to make small talk during their animated fight.
"Son of a bitch," the boatswain snarled, "I will send the entire navy after you and laugh at your hanging!"
"I'd like to see them try to accomplish such a feat, me lad. But that's high unlikely. After all, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow!" The soldier lost his footing while trying to keep up with Sparrow's fancy footwork, and stumbled. When at last he regained his balance, his gaze was greeted with a sword pointing to his large, sunburnt nose.
"Now be good so I won't have to hurt you," Jack replied cheerfully. The boatswain, with a look of defeat and disgust, threw down his sword and held up his hands in silent surrender.
"Quite the pansy, aren't ye?" Jack asked as he kicked the soldier's sword away and motioned for him to sit down on the sun-beaten deck.
"We're all ready to go, Captain!" Gibbs hollered before grabbing a rope from a grapple hook and swinging back over to the beloved Pearl.
"Well, it's been a pleasure," Jack smirked, tipping his tricorne hat at the beaten soldier, "Give the Navy me regards, savvy?" Making sure the stupid young man didn't try anything, well, stupid...he made his way back over to the Pearl, swinging over without much difficulty.
"Raise anchor!" Jack shouted, "Disable the guns! Smartly now, men!"
Ana Maria walked up to him and they both stared at the small merchant ship in silence, watching as the boatswain ran below, probably trying to set free his crew. A pity Jack had the key to the cell in his pocket.
"Nice touch with the sails, Anamaria," he commented with a mischievous smile, stroking his goatee thoughtfully, "I don't think they'll get much use out of those now."
The white sails were ripped to shreds; his crew having taken daggers to them furiously not even a half hour before. A parting gift, if you will.
"I thought so," Anamaria stated, feeling giddy as the wind picked up and they began to move slowly away from their defeated enemy, leaving them in the dust.
"What have we attained from our little visit?" Jack questioned, keeping his eyes on the horizon, his fingers grasping the knobs of the helm.
"It's all in the storage room, Cap'n. Mostly tea leaves, tobacco, and gunpowder."
"Keep the gunpowder," he ordered, "But the rest we shall barter with in Tortuga."
"Tortuga it is then?" she asked, her black hair whipping around her face.
"Aye, Tortuga it is. I have a promise to keep."
Anamaria snickered and rolled her eyes. "Stop tryin' to be all noble and gallant, Jack. I can see right through it."
He shifted uncomfortably, scuffing his light brown boots on the wood in irritation. As a nervous habit, he began twirling the silver emerald ring on his right index finger.
"You miss her."
"Anamaria," he sighed impatiently, "Why don't ye make yerself useful and swab the decks or somethin'?"
She made a face and walked away from him, grumbling, "Well, ain't someone in a twitchy mood?"
Captain Jack Sparrow missed Tortuga. He hadn't been there since the last time he saw Gallagher, which was three and a half months ago. Too long, if you asked him. The crew could sense his change in mood, for he grew less patient and all the more jumpy.
Getting out his trusty black compass, he examined it and turned the helm a bit to the southeast before putting a rope around one of the pegs to keep it steady. Swaggering over to the other side of the Pearl, he suddenly realized last night he had drunk the last of his rum during a vicious poker game with some of the crewmembers. They had gotten loaded to the gunwalls and Anamaria, being the most responsible one of them all, had demanded they all go to bed before she kicked their asses personally. Jack knew to take her seriously, for once he didn't heed her warning and he got a swift kick to the sociables. Wincing, he wished that they got to Tortuga soon before he went insane. Well, perhaps he already was?
"Don't worry, me bonny lass," he said aloud, brown eyes twinkling, "I won't keep ye waitin'."
* * *
Pirate Dictionary Lesson for this Chapter!
Bilge-lowest part inside the ship, within the hull itself which is the first place to show signs of leakage
Boatswain-a warrant officer or petty officer on a merchant ship who is in charge of the ship's rigging, anchors, cables, and deck crew
Crack Jenny's tea cup-to spend the night in a house of ill repute
Loaded to the gunwalls-to be drunk
Review Response time! Oh boy! So many reviews! U guys rock my socks!
Plateado-My bud! Heehee. Been a long time, huh? I am uber sorry for the delay, and it is so nice to hear from you. Telling me I improved is such a compliment, and if you ever have any comments or criticism, let me know! Ha, the Spanish was a work in progress. Thanks a bundle!
Pirate Gyrl- Hola! Goodness, its good to hear from you. Hopefully I shall keep your attention riveted on this story for many chapters to come, hmm? LoL And I applaud you on your story as well. It is fantastic!
Lady Quinn- Thank you! I sure hope it will be better than Meeting His Match, because sometimes sequels don't live up to their potential as sequels. Hope to hear from you again in the future!
Krisalyn- Ha, how about I get Jack on Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and you get him the rest? Sunday will be his day off. (winks) Thanks a ton, mate!
Tracy- What's shakin', bacon? Don't worry, Jack and Gallagher have a ton of tricks up their sleeves!
Mystic Fish- Hee, suspenseful! Love your penname by the way. Very chic!
Turtlecrazy53- You're so nice! (big hug) Hope to hear from you again!
Omala Moola- Thank you! Spanglish is uber fun!
Lady Skywalker- Hee, I know exactly what you mean, mate. Hope you liked the Jack-ness of this chapter. (wink) I can't see them 'married'. It's just not done. But I can see them in a casual relationship.
Carolinus Took- Yay! (dances about with you)
The Lost Guava- Gary is a fine lad indeed. Haha, I know, I know, clap me in irons right? Sorry for the big spaces between updating. Don't worry...that's at an end!
Kate- Hey Pirate Buddy! What is up? Are you stroking your Johnny Depp poster yet?
Cocowinterdeathangel- I hurried, I hurried! Whoop! Dance parTAY time!
Guava Nancers- Thank you muchos! Heehee, I'm in Spanish II and I still don't really understand. (hits self in forehead) It's a work in progress.
Capt'n Raven- Hello, Captain! Thank you for the kind words! Makes me feel all fuzzy inside, it does!
And for everyone else I did not mention, you all get big hugs! Gallagher and Jack want to shake your hands!
*
A/N: I was particularly pleased by how the first chapter turned out. It was supposed to be really short, but before I knew what was happening, pages started whizzing by. Well, I decided to get a head start on the next chapter. It will show a bit more of The Dancing Horizon and then the whereabouts of the Black Pearl. Responses to reviews will be at the end of the chapter. Enjoy!
PineAppleLint
* * *
Rain pelted Gallagher steadily on the back, the pit-pattering of the drops on her hat calming her. It had been five days since the departure from Isla de Fuego, yet she could still hear the gentle whispering behind her back of the disturbed crew. Pete stated shakily that the island fire had been a sign from the devil himself. This caused a quiet uproar amongst the men, their curious stares and silent wonder thickening the already humid air.
"Captain," Jacobs said, touching her shoulder softly to get her attention. She turned to face him, arching her eyebrows in silent question.
"How long do we have 'till Tortuga?" he asked, his hair plastered to his forehead, rainwater slowly swirling down his face like tiny waterfalls.
"Give it a week," Terrence informed him, "And we will be seein' it o'er the horizon."
"It will be nice to visit 'er again," Jacobs smiled, referring to Tortuga. Everyone spoke of the island like it was a living and breathing soul, full of life and spontaneity. No one could keep from her embrace for long. She smelled of smoke and the strongest of grog, and her appearance rugged and untrustworthy.
In Captain Gallagher's case, Tortuga now represented passionate excitement, the strong pull of attraction that couldn't keep her away from the man she dreamed about many sleepless nights, or caused her many sleepless nights. No matter. One week was all she had left to bear.
Jacobs was watching her drift off on her daydreams with a grin on his face. She snapped out of it and replied shortly, "We need a bit of repairs done to the bilge. We have a bit o' water in there. There's a hole somewhere."
"Repairs will be the last thing on me mind. When we reach Tortuga, I want a woman," Jacobs said light-heartedly.
"Why, aren't ye subtle," she joked, nudging him in the arm in a friendly manner.
It isn't me fault if I want to crack Jenny's tea cup," Jacobs laughed, "Ye know I get restless."
"Go and take that talk somewhere else," she said and pointed to the other men, "I would rather not hear about what ye'd like to do to some willin' gel."
"Aye aye, captain!" he bellowed as he saluted her, smiling. He walked off and began to talk to Gary as they both tied up some ropes that had come loose in the troublesome wind.
Her fingers went to her neck as a habit, finding the silver chain around her neck. She pulled out the necklace from between her breasts and ran the silver ring through her chilled fingers. The emerald sparkled in the sudden flash of fierce lightning off to the east, causing a green shadow to flicker across her face and disappear. The small key the old woman had given her was hanging from the chain as well. She polished it on her shirt, trying to dry it, but that didn't do much good since her shirt was soaked through.
The wind picked up and she bit her lip, her eyes turning upward to the sky. The storm was getting worse, and the last thing she wanted to do was try and ride it out and end up snapping a mast in two or destroying all her sails that had been mended only a couple weeks before.
"Drop anchor!" she ordered through the hiss of rain and wind combined, "Take down canvas!" The men scrambled to do the tasks quickly, for they must have been chilled to the bone. Pneumonia was the last thing they would want to be burdened with. Soon, Gallagher was the only one on deck as the men had went down below to dry off and get a bit of shut eye as they sat the storm out.
She barged into her cabin and shut the door solidly behind her, then stood still for a moment, feeling the unsteady rocking of the ship as it accepted the blow of crashing waves around her. It was if the sea was playing hot potato with the Dancing Horizon, and Gallagher had grown used to the topsy-turvy feeling.
Taking her black locks between her hands, she rang out the access water, watching as a puddle formed on the clean floor. She removed her boots and wiggled her toes, trying to get the blood flowing back to them.
Sighing, Gallagher unclasped her necklace and examined the key again, tracing the two grooves at the end with her dirty fingernail. What could this key be to? Was it so valuable that the senora had to trust whoever she came across to take it off of her hands? Senora Gerterrez knew about the fire, but how?
She smirked. Fortune teller mumbo jumbo? Yeah, right. She was never one to believe in fortune tellers, for the ones she always managed to come across were phonies looking for a few extra shillings.
Maybe the key unlocked the gates of Hell. Gallagher laughed at this thought, imagining Lucifer standing there, greeting her at the entrance, offering her a scone or some noon-day tea.
"Why, thank ye, Satan!" she proclaimed aloud, snickering, "I do enjoy the crumpets and jam. They are a bit warm for my taste, but lovely all the same. Where DO you find the time?"
Suddenly, she heard a crack. Gallagher glanced up at the ceiling, where a small 'chandelier' of sorts hung. It did not contain any sparkling crystals, but melted candles to use if she ever needed the extra lighting. It swung dangerously, and right as she made eye contact with it, it snapped, the heavy wood and chain fixing falling straight down, heading for her head.
"Holy shit!" she gasped and made a dive for it, skidding to the floor and covering her head. She was fast, preventing it from cracking her skull open, but not fast enough. The large object crashed to the floor, catching her left leg with it. She winced it pain, squeezing her eyes shut as her leg throbbed under the pressure.
What the hell had that been? Kicking the light fixture off of her leg, she stared at the leg of her breeches, which was soaking up a bit of blood. Raising the fabric, she cursed herself as she stared at the tiny gash and the large bruise that was starting to form.
She stood up with much difficulty, not putting any pressure on her left leg. She was going to have a limp for a while. Gallagher examined the ceiling, not figuring out how it had suddenly snapped. Much less how it happened while she was standing right underneath it.
Her hand went to her throat, and she realized her silver chain was gone, as well as the ring and the key. Glancing around the floor wildly, she found the chain peeking out from under her bed, and on it the emerald ring sat safe and sound. The key? She twirled around and found it tucked under the 'chandelier', covered with a drop or two of her own sticky blood that had dripped from her leg.
It sat there innocently, the rubies gleaming ominously in the dim glow of the confinement of her cabin. She picked it up wearily, staring at it as if it was a writhing cobra ready to strike.
Was it cursed?
She sure as hell hoped not.
* * *
::CLING::
::CLASH::
"You're a dead man, Sparrow," the British officer seethed, blocking the blows with skilled expertise yet his expression, besides the clenched teeth and enraged eyes, was flooded with nervousness.
The infamous Captain Jack Sparrow grinned toothily and jumped about on his toes, faking a yawn. "Is this all ye got? Me mum, rest her soul, can fight better than ye and she's been a corpse for fifteen years! Probably better lookin' than ye at the moment, too." The soldier snarled and lunged at Sparrow, who arched his back to prevent the razor sharp sword from skewering him like a trout.
The Black Pearl had taken another victim. They had the incredible luck to run into a merchant ship sailing under the red ensign (British flag), and Jack had clapped his hands excitedly as the opportunity had presented itself. About time he had the chance to put those Navy bastards in their place! He had gone a full two months without having the audacity to mess with military personnel. There was already a large price on his head, anyway. Why not mix things up a little?
Mr. Gibbs had led the Pearl crew aboard and taken the merchants by surprise, tying them up and locking them in their own cell. Now, it was up to Jack to handle the arrogant boatswain.
"You are a menace to respectable Caribbean society!" the soldier said angrily and tried to catch Jack off guard, to no avail.
"Why, thanks very much!" Sparrow said, batting his kohl-rimmed eyes, "This is quite an honor, I assure you." Jack's large brown coat billowed around him as he spun agilely, not letting his years of talent go to waste. He was always one to show off.
"I bet ye would like to know that right about now me crew is pillagin' all yer precious cargo," Jack said, trying to make small talk during their animated fight.
"Son of a bitch," the boatswain snarled, "I will send the entire navy after you and laugh at your hanging!"
"I'd like to see them try to accomplish such a feat, me lad. But that's high unlikely. After all, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow!" The soldier lost his footing while trying to keep up with Sparrow's fancy footwork, and stumbled. When at last he regained his balance, his gaze was greeted with a sword pointing to his large, sunburnt nose.
"Now be good so I won't have to hurt you," Jack replied cheerfully. The boatswain, with a look of defeat and disgust, threw down his sword and held up his hands in silent surrender.
"Quite the pansy, aren't ye?" Jack asked as he kicked the soldier's sword away and motioned for him to sit down on the sun-beaten deck.
"We're all ready to go, Captain!" Gibbs hollered before grabbing a rope from a grapple hook and swinging back over to the beloved Pearl.
"Well, it's been a pleasure," Jack smirked, tipping his tricorne hat at the beaten soldier, "Give the Navy me regards, savvy?" Making sure the stupid young man didn't try anything, well, stupid...he made his way back over to the Pearl, swinging over without much difficulty.
"Raise anchor!" Jack shouted, "Disable the guns! Smartly now, men!"
Ana Maria walked up to him and they both stared at the small merchant ship in silence, watching as the boatswain ran below, probably trying to set free his crew. A pity Jack had the key to the cell in his pocket.
"Nice touch with the sails, Anamaria," he commented with a mischievous smile, stroking his goatee thoughtfully, "I don't think they'll get much use out of those now."
The white sails were ripped to shreds; his crew having taken daggers to them furiously not even a half hour before. A parting gift, if you will.
"I thought so," Anamaria stated, feeling giddy as the wind picked up and they began to move slowly away from their defeated enemy, leaving them in the dust.
"What have we attained from our little visit?" Jack questioned, keeping his eyes on the horizon, his fingers grasping the knobs of the helm.
"It's all in the storage room, Cap'n. Mostly tea leaves, tobacco, and gunpowder."
"Keep the gunpowder," he ordered, "But the rest we shall barter with in Tortuga."
"Tortuga it is then?" she asked, her black hair whipping around her face.
"Aye, Tortuga it is. I have a promise to keep."
Anamaria snickered and rolled her eyes. "Stop tryin' to be all noble and gallant, Jack. I can see right through it."
He shifted uncomfortably, scuffing his light brown boots on the wood in irritation. As a nervous habit, he began twirling the silver emerald ring on his right index finger.
"You miss her."
"Anamaria," he sighed impatiently, "Why don't ye make yerself useful and swab the decks or somethin'?"
She made a face and walked away from him, grumbling, "Well, ain't someone in a twitchy mood?"
Captain Jack Sparrow missed Tortuga. He hadn't been there since the last time he saw Gallagher, which was three and a half months ago. Too long, if you asked him. The crew could sense his change in mood, for he grew less patient and all the more jumpy.
Getting out his trusty black compass, he examined it and turned the helm a bit to the southeast before putting a rope around one of the pegs to keep it steady. Swaggering over to the other side of the Pearl, he suddenly realized last night he had drunk the last of his rum during a vicious poker game with some of the crewmembers. They had gotten loaded to the gunwalls and Anamaria, being the most responsible one of them all, had demanded they all go to bed before she kicked their asses personally. Jack knew to take her seriously, for once he didn't heed her warning and he got a swift kick to the sociables. Wincing, he wished that they got to Tortuga soon before he went insane. Well, perhaps he already was?
"Don't worry, me bonny lass," he said aloud, brown eyes twinkling, "I won't keep ye waitin'."
* * *
Pirate Dictionary Lesson for this Chapter!
Bilge-lowest part inside the ship, within the hull itself which is the first place to show signs of leakage
Boatswain-a warrant officer or petty officer on a merchant ship who is in charge of the ship's rigging, anchors, cables, and deck crew
Crack Jenny's tea cup-to spend the night in a house of ill repute
Loaded to the gunwalls-to be drunk
Review Response time! Oh boy! So many reviews! U guys rock my socks!
Plateado-My bud! Heehee. Been a long time, huh? I am uber sorry for the delay, and it is so nice to hear from you. Telling me I improved is such a compliment, and if you ever have any comments or criticism, let me know! Ha, the Spanish was a work in progress. Thanks a bundle!
Pirate Gyrl- Hola! Goodness, its good to hear from you. Hopefully I shall keep your attention riveted on this story for many chapters to come, hmm? LoL And I applaud you on your story as well. It is fantastic!
Lady Quinn- Thank you! I sure hope it will be better than Meeting His Match, because sometimes sequels don't live up to their potential as sequels. Hope to hear from you again in the future!
Krisalyn- Ha, how about I get Jack on Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and you get him the rest? Sunday will be his day off. (winks) Thanks a ton, mate!
Tracy- What's shakin', bacon? Don't worry, Jack and Gallagher have a ton of tricks up their sleeves!
Mystic Fish- Hee, suspenseful! Love your penname by the way. Very chic!
Turtlecrazy53- You're so nice! (big hug) Hope to hear from you again!
Omala Moola- Thank you! Spanglish is uber fun!
Lady Skywalker- Hee, I know exactly what you mean, mate. Hope you liked the Jack-ness of this chapter. (wink) I can't see them 'married'. It's just not done. But I can see them in a casual relationship.
Carolinus Took- Yay! (dances about with you)
The Lost Guava- Gary is a fine lad indeed. Haha, I know, I know, clap me in irons right? Sorry for the big spaces between updating. Don't worry...that's at an end!
Kate- Hey Pirate Buddy! What is up? Are you stroking your Johnny Depp poster yet?
Cocowinterdeathangel- I hurried, I hurried! Whoop! Dance parTAY time!
Guava Nancers- Thank you muchos! Heehee, I'm in Spanish II and I still don't really understand. (hits self in forehead) It's a work in progress.
Capt'n Raven- Hello, Captain! Thank you for the kind words! Makes me feel all fuzzy inside, it does!
And for everyone else I did not mention, you all get big hugs! Gallagher and Jack want to shake your hands!
*