(A/N: Hello, second chapter showing up a day after the first. I was totally not expecting that to happen, but hey! In this chapter: Elaine being bitchy, Miguel being cute and pitiful, and Tulio being a douchebag.)

Part 2: This Deranged Voodoo Garbage

Elaine Threepwood-Marley was forced to admit that she was impressed.

She didn't trust the way they would call out to each other in Spanish sometimes and then laugh, and she wasn't fond of the terribly unprofessional attitude they took toward everything they did, but they were getting the job done incredibly well for a pair of landlubbers. At least Guybrush hadn't picked that fellow with the eyepatch. They made it away from the docks relatively smoothly and set a heading for Monkey Island, by way of Mêlée, where she had to stop off and deliver the last of her paperwork in addition to attending a mandatory function.

By sunset they were well out to sea and had managed not to encounter any nefarious opposing pirates out for the (mostly nonexistent) contents of their treasure hold. As things began to calm down for the night, Elaine looked up from running inventory on their food supply to see the three (oddly similar-looking) men convening around the helm, chatting.

"It's so lovely to see a sunset over open water when you're not fearing for your life," Miguel was saying.

"Ah, yes, starvation," said Tulio. "It's no - picnic."

Elaine chortled a little at the irony of his comment, but if either of the other two noticed they said nothing. "Tell me about it! There was this one time when I was stuck in a bumper car, and all I wanted was just some fresh grog - "

Having heard this story umpteen times - even the part she didn't need to be told because she'd actually been there - Elaine wrapped up her inventory quickly and crossed the deck to interrupt the boys.

"I don't mean to interrupt," she interrupted, "but I think now that there aren't other ears around to listen, you and I ought to explain to these two exactly what we're out to do here."

"Oh really?" said Guybrush. "You think we should? Because I thought your opinion was that they were unsavory and couldn't be trusted."

"It's a bit too late for all that now, isn't it?"

"Sometimes I could do with your mind changing a little less."

"I'm terribly sorry," said Elaine, unimpressed. "But if you wouldn't mind?"

"Right, right. Okay."

Elaine observed Miguel and Tulio as they listened with rapt attention to Guybrush's explanation - how the thrice-over dead Evil Pirate LeChuck had finally found some henchmen smart enough to listen to his instructions from beyond the grave and they had managed to do the unthinkable: they had fused his incredibly cursed soul to the power of an Ultimate Insult, the very concept of which un-manned men all over the Caribbean out of sheer terror. But the concentration of the voodoo magic was so immense that LeChuck couldn't even move, so currently he was stuck on Monkey Island terrorizing pirates remotely and sending said mildly competent henchmen to retrieve their treasure. Of course, as usual, his real target was the death of Guybrush and the abduction of Elaine.

She could tell they didn't believe a word of it, and was proven correct when Tulio opened his mouth. "So why hasn't he just attacked you guys outright?"

Guybrush grinned a little, which made Elaine smirk, too. He was so proud of himself. "We've got voodoo connections, too. Installed in the cabin of this ship is a talisman that protects everything within a certain radius from the devastation of an Ultimate Insult. I put it together from a bunch of weird ingredients with the help of my friend the Voodoo Lady. It sure was hard to find a bright green tortoise shell around these parts, but - "

"And so your plan is to swoop in, stop LeBuck - "

"LeChuck," Guybrush interrupted.

" - and take all this treasure in the process, is that it?" asked Miguel.

"Well, yeah."

The Spaniards exchanged a look that did not go unnoticed by Elaine, and then Tulio started to speak again. "Look, guys and er, brushes - a little bit of voodoo I could handle, but undead zombie pirates? The Ultimate Insult? You don't get to be cons like us by believing these sorts of crazy things."

"He's telling the truth," said Elaine, suddenly defensive of Guybrush. Funny how that worked.

"The point is, as long as we come through with the gold in the end, we don't really care what's going on," Miguel explained. "We just figured that if you were going to feed us a lie, well..."

"You could do a little better than this deranged voodoo garbage," Tulio finished. He looked around into the night, which had fallen quickly during Guybrush's story. "So where are we sleeping?"

Guybrush, indignant, didn't answer his question. "Fine!" he said, pouting. "Next time I'll try to make our immortal peril more convincing."

Elaine sighed and patted his shoulder. "Just let it go, dear," she said, and showed Miguel and Tulio to their quarters.

xxxxx

Miguel awoke suddenly, then abruptly wished he hadn't, because he realized he'd been having one of Those Dreams.

They hadn't been an issue lately - not since El Dorado, not since they'd stopped sharing a room because Tulio was sleeping with Chel. Tulio still had no idea why she'd left, just that one day he'd gotten up and she hadn't been there, and neither had the horse. Once he'd realized she was gone for good he'd invited Miguel back into the bedroom, out of the uncomfortable storeroom, but he'd offered to stay.

Miguel knew why Chel had left, and he hated himself for it.

(He still didn't know why she'd taken the horse, though.)

But like it or not, Those Dreams seemed to start happening just as soon as he could hear Tulio's breathing and groaning in his sleep again. Totally embarrassing dreams. Overly sappy dreams. Occasionally, scorchingly hot dreams.

Sure, scorching dreams. No - sweat.

But this one hadn't been too sweaty. He'd been - well, okay, he'd been falling overboard off the side of Guybrush's ship, which wasn't exactly fun, but still. They'd been caught in a raging storm, rain and thunder swirling all around them, and he remembered just losing his balance and tumbling, tumbling, nearly drowning, only for a strong and wiry arm to wrap around his suffocating chest and haul him to the surface, where the clouds were dissipating and the sun was breaking through, and where he gasped for air and clung tightly to his dashing rescuer, held on to -

To Tulio. It was always Tulio. Bugger all.

Shining in the new sunlight, Miguel held Tulio close, Tulio held Miguel close, and in his low teasing voice he told Miguel, "If you're going to be on a boat, you ought to invest in some swimming lessons."

He'd had one of Those Looks in his eye, and for a second there Miguel thought Tulio would kiss him -

Only to awaken into the darkness of their tiny cabin with Tulio's arm thrown across him in his sleep, and Guybrush's loud snoring drifting in from the captain's quarters.

And a loud crack of lightning piercing the night air.

As incompetent as he may have seemed, Guybrush's snores stopped instantly, and Miguel could hear him instead scrambling out of bed and then onto the deck to prepare for...the wind and the torrential rain, which had also started, pounding loudly on the wood of the deck. Trying to ignore the twinge of déjà vu, Miguel nudged Tulio awake.

"Tulio! Tulio!"

"Altivo?" wondered Tulio, groggy.

"No, no, wake up! There's a huge storm that's just rolled in!"

"Oh, geez!" Tulio was finally awake, bolting up and struggling back into his shirt and shoes. Quickly the two of them made it up on deck and did their best to run around helping.

At the helm, Guybrush was frantic. "That's the second biggest stormhead I've ever seen!" he yelled over the clattering rain. "If we don't make it through this, we're screwed!"

"What can we do?" asked Miguel.

"I need you two over there, tying everything down! We'll be just as screwed if we make it through the storm but we're all out of provisions! If you manage that, just start bailing the water!"

"Aye-aye!" they shouted, and set about their assigned tasks while Elaine manipulated the sails into safety and Guybrush strained to keep the vessel upright.

The storm seemed to continue on for hours, until finally, finally, there was an end in sight. If they just managed to crest this next wave, the rain would probably let up, and -

"Oh!" cried Elaine, suddenly, and by the time they turned to see what was wrong there was nothing there but a tiny, ominous splash of water.

"ELAINE!" Guybrush shouted, voice cracking - he was so hoarse from yelling over the storm. "She'll drown!"

"I'm going in after her!" declared Tulio.

"No, wait, let me - "

"You've got to stay up here and steer the ship!" Tulio interrupted. "We can't make it this far and then capsize!"

"But I can hold my breath for ten minutes - "

"Look, Miguel and I may catch on fast, but neither of us is skilled enough to guide a ship through a storm like this!"

"She's my wife!" Guybrush protested, but Tulio had already taken it at a dive, and Guybrush and Miguel were left alone on the storm-soaked deck, Guybrush clinging to the helm and Miguel to the aftmast, just staring at the place where Tulio had disappeared into the crashing waves.

"Tulio, you fool," he mumbled, but it died in the howling winds.

In the end, however, Miguel and Guybrush were forced to admit that they were impressed. Tulio's logic had been the correct logic, and as Guybrush was pulling them through the last dredges of storm, Tulio was surfacing with a gasping Elaine under his wiry arm, clambering up the rope Miguel had lowered and hauling her onto the deck.

Where they clung to each other a little too closely, and Tulio teased, "If you're going to be on a boat, you ought to invest in some swimming lessons."

Elaine giggled a little.

Miguel though, Bugger all.

Unbeknownst to Miguel, Guybrush was in total agreement.