I lied. It goes in order and it does have some semblance of an overarching plot.

Disclaimer: I would never dream of stealing from Disney. Think of it as borrowing. I'm not making money on the use of their characters. Since I'm not stealing from Disney, how's about you don't steal from me? The official characters and the universe are Disney, but the words on this page and the character Sparry Tate are mine. Neither enjoys being kidnapped, so why don't you leave them right here with me?

As usual, if you enjoy or have anything to say, leave me a review. I try to respond to every one I get. Flames will be dealt with wittily. The response has been really good so far, and I'm really appreciative to every single one of you who has helped me get 300+ views!

Interesting fact: Sparry scores a 40 on most Mary Sue litmus tests. This has to do with a personal history I have for the character and I don't feel like telling you exactly why she scores so high.

And Really Bad Eggs…

Adventure Four: William Turner Has Mutinous Thoughts

"What happened to your hair?" asked Will when he first saw Sparry on the morning of their expedition. Her usual tangled rat's nest of salt-stiffened waves and dreadlocks had been reduced to a neatly combed braid.

"Your mother happened to my hair," replied Sparry sourly, climbing into the dingy and beginning to rig the sail. "What's the weather like for sailing today?"

"Sea's mostly calm," said Will, climbing in behind her and producing a child-sized compass from somewhere on his person. Sparry didn't know where, just that his clothes were riddled with hidden pockets. "Good wind," he continued as Sparry struggled to tie the sail down. Turning to her, he added, "Let me do that."

"I got it," replied Sparry stubbornly. No way was she going to be shown up by Will Turner, even if he did have the fortune of having been born on a boat and reading maps before he could read the English language. Finally, she tied the rope in a good, firm sailor's knot. "I told you I had it. Hoist the anchor!"

"We haven't got an anchor," said Will, looking around to see if there was something he didn't know about.

"You know what I mean," replied Sparry. He gave her a blank look. "Untie us!" she exclaimed. Will nodded and set about it. A moment later, they bobbed out into the current, the wind at their backs.

"Perfect weather for sailing!" enthused Will, trailing a hand in the water. They were picking up speed, and the dingy seemed to be holding up well.

"What's our bearing, Mister Turner?" asked Sparry, figuring since Will had the compass he ought to know.

"Captain Turner," corrected Will.

"What?" asked Sparry. "I thought I was captain. I'm older than you. I deserve to be captain.

"I know more than you," said Will. He was right, and Sparry despised that.

"Well, I think Captain Tate sounds better than Captain Turner," she countered. It was a lame excuse at best, and he wasn't buying it.

"Who's ever heard of a pirate named Captain Tate?" he asked as he steered them out into the main of the harbor. Sparry watched the docks and mighty larger ships whiz past.

"You and me, for starters," she proclaimed. "What's our bearing?"

"Out of the harbor and then North," replied Will, thinking that Sparry wasn't a real pirate even as ambitious as she was. And certainly she was not the rightful captain of their boat. After all, he had been the one to find it. Briefly, he entertained the thought of pushing her overboard and turning around, leaving her to swim back, but banished the thought to whence it came. One did not simply push best friends into the water.

Furthermore, that was mutiny since Sparry fancied herself captain, and mutiny, Will had been taught, was bad.

"Our ship needs a name," said Sparry, changing the subject.

"My Da's ship is The Flying Dutchman," said Will, who had forgotten that Sparry previously asked him to stop mentioning the topic.

"What's that got to do with anything?" asked Sparry with a scowl. "We are obviously neither Dutch nor flying."

"I wasn't suggesting it for our ship," retorted Will.

"Oh," said Sparry, staring off into the distance and trying to think. They were really moving now, she observed. The wind was tugging at their little boat's sail, pulling them out of the cove towards open water. "What are the other ships you know about?"

"Well, Captain Hector's ship is The Black Pearl," he said, "Or it might be Uncle Jack's. They fight about it whenever they're together. Something about double-mutiny." In Will's personal opinion, it was a rather excellent name for a rather excellent ship.

"Davy Jones eats mutineers, too," said Sparry ruefully. Will gave her a halting look. Where was she getting all this Davy Jones nonsense?

"Davy Jones is dead," he told her. Again.

"So, what are we calling our ship?" asked Sparry, ever the absentminded.

"I dunno. The Mighty Guppy," said Will. "Why don't you come up with something?"

"I can't think of anything," she answered. He sighed, thinking she was fast becoming an unworthy captain. Mutinous thoughts again. Maybe it ran in the family. His mother had told him that it was a family tradition of sorts to commit mutiny and then feel bad about it, That got him thinking that maybe Sparry was on to something with her bit about Davy Jones eating mutineers, considering what had happened to his father and grandfather. Deciding it best not to tempt fate, Will resisted the urge to push her out of the boat.

"So it's the Mighty Guppy?" he asked.

"I haven't got anything better," Sparry answered, drawing a blank. "So sure, why not?"

"If I named the ship, I ought to be captain," stated Will, seeing his chance to win the argument. "I found it and I named it. It's my ship and I'm sharing it with you. From now on, I'm captain Turner."

"Mutiny!" cried Sparry, but she was already beginning to laugh. Will handed her the compass and took the rudder.

"What's our heading, First Mate Tate?" he asked, cringing internally at the rhyme.

"Wait, you're serious?" asked Sparry, a look of bewilderment on her face. But she knew better than to fight him here and now, because that would most likely flip the little boat and it was a rather far way to shore.

"What's our heading?" he repeated.

"Can't we be co-captains or something?" she protested.

"What's our heading?" he asked a third time.

Sparry, while not content at all about the situation, murmured something about "Straight out of the harbor and the north."

"Thank you, first mate Sparry," said Will with just a hint of smugness in his voice. He had won for the moment, at least, though the look Sparry was giving him said she would be pressing the issue as soon as they were on shore.