"Eh, Josephine! Where have you been loitering about?" Gibbs called out to her accusingly. Josephine was just coming from the kitchen, where she had spent about an hour, peeling potatoes. Her eyes were reddened and swollen and since she hadn't been cutting onions, it was quite obvious she had been crying, but Gibbs didn't notice. He could care less for her feelings. Apparently his callousness had also caused him to forget that he had been him who he sent her to galley in the first place.
The sound of the sailor's voice was always unpleasant to her ears, because it usually meant more work. She flinched, but reluctantly answered, "What is it, Mr. Gibbs?"
"The Captain wants you," he said gruffly. Josephine had started suspecting he had no other mode, but she was still waiting to be proven wrong.
"Thanks," she said curtly, turned on her heels and made her way up to the helm. The stairs that led there creaked under her feet and it was only then, that the state of the sea occurred to her, the rest of the time she just didn't notice anymore.
When she arrived at her destination, everything was just as usual. There was Will standing there with a stern expression on his face, his ever-present compass clutched firmly in his hand. He scrutinized the deflection of the needle as if it was an actual science. Right next to him at the helm stood Barbossa his eyes fixed intently on the horizon. They would spent hours like that, with the occasional word muttered, when the course needed adjusting. How they could stand spending so much time without actually talking remained a secret to her. Another peculiarity of the male gender she wasn't able to understand.
"You called for me," Josephine said to make her presence known.
"Josephine? Oh, yes, of course," Barbossa looked at her, momentarily disorientated, as if he had been lost in deep thought, while Will only just acknowledged her presence with the indication, or better yet the hint, of a nod.
"So? What's the matter?" she enquired. "Found a spot on deck that needs swabbing or are you just experiencing a dry mouth and would like me to get you a mug of rum?" the young woman tilted her head to the left and looked at him with a mixture of friendly mockery and casualty.
Since he had been the only one willing to talk to her on her first couple on day on board, they had become something close to friends, though the word didn't actually describe their relationship properly. They shared an equally acerbic sense of humour as well as keen observation skills, which made them easily fall in conversation and share a few laughs. To call it a friendship would have been a little bit too premature, considering that Josephine still didn't not trust Barbossa entirely, which didn't keep her from enjoying his company however.
"Miss Beckett, that's no way to talk to your captain! You should bestow the same kind of respect on him as you did on you father. You should obey him and most importantly never contradict his word in public," from his tone of his voice she could discern he had no intention of threatening her. It was merely his way of countering a snide remark. He was still showing his gentle face and she had quickly learned she neither wanted to see nor provoke him to slip on his other one.
"I'm not entirely convinced we should employ such a highly ambitious comparison in this case. If I recall correctly, my father never was a pirate nor did he rob any cursed Aztec Gold and I'm also fairly certain he never rose from the dead. Quite the contrary, he was actually a quite respectable, very lovable man," at her words William briefly raised his head to look at her. She could have sworn she saw a brief smile flit over her face.
"That makes me curious, Miss Beckett, where do I rank in your esteem then?" Barbossa casually rested one arm on the helm and looked at her expectantly. He only used her last name to address her, when he was teasing her, apart from that there was an amused glint in his eyes that betrayed his playful mood.
"High enough to consider you an equal in this conversation," he let out a honest laugh at her remark, "but much too low to keep me from talking to you in this way," she did a mock curtsey, "But ere you order Mr. Gibbs to prepare the plank, I would like to forward a peace offering," Josephine reached inside her pocket and produced a green apple.
"You see, Will, that's the true nature of women," Barbossa said with a smug grin as he took the apple from her hand, "Nothing much has changed since Adam and Eve. Those spiteful creatures utter nothing but poisonous words, but still managed to tempt us with just an apple."
"Very true," the young man agreed.
"So, I suppose you didn't just summon me to afford you the opportunity to lament about men's most dire affliction – women and your incapability of understand them," she made a point out of letting a huge amount of irony seep into her voice, "…it's not that I don't enjoy exchanging inanities, but I was just wondering, was there any reason in particular you wanted to talk to me?" she asked curiously.
"Yes, Tia Dalma wants to see you," Barbossa replied, shortly before he took a luxurious bite from the apple.
She just nodded and made her way to the quarter of the voodoo priestess, silently muttering to herself, "Out of the frying pan into the fire, it is then."