Iiiiiit's another update! That's right folks, the madness continues! Me and Lily have just sat here writing lots of fun things for you, and here's something we made earlier…presenting Blue Peter hands

Enjoy!

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A while later, two more bottles lay spent on the table between them. Scully didn't like to admit it, but she was feeling rather drunk, something she thought probably wasn't a good thing to share with her companion, himself swaying in his chair.

"So," she began, her words slurring slightly at the ends, although this was imperceptible to Jack. "What exactly makes The Adversary such a notorious ship?" He took a swig from the bottle, passing it back to Scully before replying.

"Well, in a word, the captain. Halcón is one of the mastiest… neanest… he's not a very mice man." Scully chuckled at Jack's inability to pronounce the words. It was to be expected though, given that he'd had a two-bottle head start on her, that he be more inebriated.

"And is this knowledge," Scully continued between swigs, "from reputation only or from first hand experience?" Jack paused, closing his eyes, and for a moment she thought he'd fallen asleep until he opened them and leaned forward, gesturing for the rum.

"Well, being a captain myself I've never actually had the opportunity to sherve under him, but he sherved under me before…" he stopped suddenly, apparently reminiscing. Scully gave him a moment before coaxing him gently, much in the manner as she would a witness on an investigation.

"Before…?"

"It's a fairly long shtory."

"We've got time," she prodded. "And rum," she added with a smile which Jack returned. He straightened himself up, leaning forward on his elbows.

"Alright. You twishted my arm. A few years back I was captain of a ship called the Black Pearl. She was the most notorious ship in the Caribbean." He nodded at Scully, alluding to their conversation before they had left port. "We were sailing in search of treasure. Halcón was hard working, but far too ambitious, to the point of obshession. In the end I wa shick of it, sho I ordered him off my ship. Shortly after that, the resht of my crew, led by my firsht mate, mutinied, left me on an island and went off in search of the treashure. Halcón found out and blamed me for making him mish out on hisshare of the treashure. He'sh hated me ever since." Jack paused, allowing Scully time to digest the story and also giving himself time to take another swig of rum.

"Pershonally, I think this may be the contributing factor to him shtealing two membersh of my crew." Scully nodded.

"That shounds…" she stopped and smiled wryly at her error before correcting herself. "… sounds like a possibility."

"Glad you agree darling."

He put the bottle to his lips once more, tipping it back to take a drink. When none came out he leaned back farther, then farther still until the chair slid out from under him and he landed unceremoniously on the floor with a crash. Shocked but suppressing a

laugh, Scully leaned across the table, peering over the edge in time to see Jack scramble back onto his seat. He held the bottle out in front of him, staring at it, as if sheer thought alone would refill it. When this didn't happen he pouted slightly, grabbing at each of the other bottles one by one, tipping them upside down and becoming more and more concerned as each of them turned out to be empty as well. Dropping the last of the bottles back on the table he returned his gaze to Scully, looking at her seriously.

"Why is the rum always gone?" He rose from his chair, apparently to go in search of more rum, only to stagger around before latching onto the edge of the table for support.

"I think that's why," Scully replied with a giggle that got Jack laughing too. "I think you'd better sit down. I'll go find more rum." Jack complied as she moved towards the door. She was a little unsteady on her feet she noticed, much to her chagrin. Scully was halfway out the door when Jack called after her.

"Try near the wheel. I ushually keep some there for emergencies, and this would indeed constitute a rum emergency." She chuckled and exited the room, returning a few minutes later, grinning as she held up another full bottle.

"Ah rum. Where would I be without you?" Jack reached for the bottle as Scully resumed her place at the table, taking a long draught before passing it over to him.

"So," he began, setting the rum down. "You shtill have yet to exshplain how exactly you came to be in jolly ol' Tortuga, when it'sh obvious that neither you nor your dear companion… wasshis name…"

"Mulder," Scully supplied.

"That's it! Neither you nor your dear companion Mulder look like you belong there."

"It's … complicated."

"We've got time," Jack said, shooting her words from earlier back at her, making her smile.

"Yea, I guess we have. Well, Mulder and I had been sent to Haiti to investigate the disappearances of several employees of the Atrius Institute there when we stumbled… or rather, Mulder stumbled upon a room containing time-space experiments. We were sucked in and transported back in time to Tortuga." Jack stared at her wide-eyed.

"Sherioushly?" Scully gave a sharp nod and took another swig of rum. He made a noise that indicated he was impressed, but she didn't really hear it as she had closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair, trying to stop the room from spinning and failing miserably. Internally, Scully half-heartedly berated herself for getting so drunk with an incredibly strange man she had only just met, but those thoughts soon subsided as she felt the rum quickly taking effect, and she slipped gently away into inebriated oblivion.

The next morning Scully awoke to a vague pounding sensation in her ears. As she shifted and attempted to open her eyes, she became painfully aware of the fact that the pounding was coming from inside her own head. Her mouth felt dry and she briefly wondered whether that was what it felt like in the Sahara dessert, before she raised a hand and lightly rested it on her forehead. This move turned out to be a very bad one, as it only served to intensify the already horrendous pounding around her brain. She groaned softly in protest against the pain… and then froze as she felt two arms tighten their

grip on her waist. Slowly Scully opened her eyes, squinting against the bright light that was pouring in through a window. She blinked a few times, adjusting them to the glare of the sun, before glancing down to see two large arms clasped securely around her. Her first instinct was to assume that the arms belonged to Mulder, that was until she noticed the tattoo and the letter 'P' that was branded into the flesh. Suddenly memories of the past few days flooded over her, in particular those of the previous evening. With a loud gasp she jerked sharply away, trying to extricate herself from the person behind her. However, all this served to do was to tip the hammock she and her companion were lying in, throwing its occupants onto the floor with a crash. Scully closed her eyes and swore, rubbing the back of her head where she'd cracked it on the wooden floor. A loud groan sounded from above her, and she became distinctly aware of a heavy weight pinning her to the floor. Her eyes flew open to be confronted by the face of Captain Jack Sparrow grimacing down at her.

"I think you and I need to have a little conversation about your ideas on how to wake a sleeping man my dear," Jack chuckled and then frowned, suddenly becoming aware of the pounding inside his own head. Scully opened her mouth, about to tell him to get off of her, when the door to the cabin swung open and Gibbs entered, a worried expression on his face.

"What happened? I heard a crash and…" he stopped mid-sentence, noticing the two in what could only be described as a "compromising position" on the floor. Before either could say anything in their defense, Gibbs simply smiled.

"I guess I'll come back later when you aren't so… busy." And with that he turned on his heel and left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

"Get off me NOW!" Scully hissed through clenched teeth. "Or I'll make sure that next time you sing a sea shanty, it'll be in soprano!" Jack gulped; from the look on her face he knew she wasn't kidding, then quickly scrambled off her and onto his feet. He extended his hand to offer her assistance but Scully was already standing and brushing the dust from her clothes.

Meanwhile, aboard the Adversary...

"Mulder? Are you listening?" Yelena waved a hand in front of her pupil's eyes. His expression was distant and decidedly queasy as he stared into the horizon.

"Hello?" Yelena tried again. With an apparently great effort, Mulder turned towards her. She may not have had as much medical expertise as Soledad, but Yelena was pretty sure his skin should not have been that colour. She put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright?"

He nodded, unconvincingly.

"Yeah, I'm great. Sorry, what were you asking?" He swayed slightly and gripped the rail as the ship rocked on the energetic sea. Yelena put her hand on one of the rope knots.

"I was asking you which rope this is."

Mulder furrowed his brow as with great mental exertion. "Which rope?"

"Yes. As in, where does it lead?"

"Oooh, where does it lead...uh..." Mulder tipped his head back and gazed up at the endless miles of loops and knots and rigging. "Uuhhh..."

A wave hit the side of the ship. The Adversary lurched, taking Mulder's stomach with it. He collapsed onto the deck and made no effort to get up again. It had been a long morning.

Yelena was in the middle of a sigh, mostly one of pity, when she caught sight of Soledad strolling towards them with a flask in one hand and scrap of cloth in the other. The corner of Yelena's mouth curled – she knew what was coming.

"Buenos. O...buenas [Good morning, or...afternoon," she greeted her friend, trying to remember if the noon bell had rung yet or not. A quick glance at the sky confirmed that it must have. "Sí, buenas."

"Hola," replied Soledad. She looked down at Mulder. "How are you doing? Still struggling to find your sea-legs?"

Mulder frowned, his pride aching, but nodded weakly.

"Here," Soledad, having wrenched out the stopper, handed him the flask. "Drink some of this. It'll probably make you throw up but you'll feel better afterwards."

Mulder eyed the flask apprehensively, but for want of an alternative, took it.

"You seem very casual about making me spew," he commented dryly.

Soledad shrugged. "Well, no point...what's that phrase you have? Beating around the bush."

Mulder had lost the will to speak, but his expression said, 'true enough'.

"Here," added Soledad, offering him a hand up. Yelena took his other arm and together they hoisted him onto his feet, taking care to get him facing the ocean. He looked again suspiciously at the bottle.

"So what, I just swallow a bit and all my woes are cured?"

Soledad considered momentarily. "You could say that."

"Alrighty then, here goes." He fixed his lips around the narrow neck of the flask and poured its unknown contents into his mouth with a generous flick of the hand. There was a pause. Yelena watched him with amused curiosity; Soledad simply stood holding out the cloth, having seen the effects of her remedy many, many times. She plucked the flask from Mulder's hand and patted him on the back when the inevitable occurred.

Yelena looked away, and suddenly heard the heavy clunking of familiar boots approaching from behind her. She glanced over her shoulder and sure enough, there was Gillpoyo.

"Oi, Soledad, cuidado [watch out," she said quietly.

"And what's all this?" he demanded as he strode toward them, voice gruff and grumpy as ever.

"Lay off it, Gillpoyo, he's just a bit seasick," Yelena replied sharply.

"Oh is he? Just a bit seasick?" The officer grabbed Mulder by the shoulder and tore him from the rail. "Or just playing the invalid?"

Yelena stepped between the two men. "He's not faking. Christ, Gillpoyo, he's never been on a ship before."

Gillpoyo snatched a handful of Yelena's hair and threw her onto the deck. "Don't try and get between me and my duty, little señorita." His iron glance was turned on Mulder. "Travelled to America without going on a ship? What an incredible achievement."

Mulder was trying hard to keep his balance, and his cool. "I've tried to explain to people, they just don't understand-"

"I understand perfectly well!" Roared Gillpoyo, dealing Mulder a single blow that sent him sprawling. He placed a worn, dirty leather boot in the centre of Mulder's chest, and lowered his voice to a growl. "You dare lie to me again, son, and believe you me you'll end up just like the others: at the boson's mercy." He turned as if to leave, but snapped his head to catch Mulder's eyes. "You should probably know that he has none."

Satisfied that his lesson had been learnt, he spun sharply and made to return below decks. His path, however, was blocked. He looked down at Yelena through narrowed eyes.

"Out of my way." His voice was dangerously quiet. She was unphased, and he was a little taken aback when her tone matched his.

"You know perfectly well he'll never get anywhere if you beat him into the ground every time you see him." Her lip was bleeding. He sneered.

"If you'd rather it was you, please inform me. As things stand, he needs to know this ship like the back of his hand by tomorrow and if he doesn't, I'll be blaming you. As for you," he stamped over to Soledad, who was helping Mulder up, "you little Spanish flowers need to see less of each other. You'll be in the crow's-nest until the next dog-watch. Oh, and this time, when you see a ship full o' plunder, you'll be letting us know, not watchin it sail away into the sunset and robbing the captain of his treasure. And you can wipe that smirk off your face." Evidently deciding she wasn't going to, he wiped it off himself, with the back of his hand. She shot him a fiery, defiant glare, but could read his mood and knew it would be a waste of her time to retaliate any further.

"'sta luego, chiquita," she said to Yelena with a sigh. Glancing at Mulder she added, "Cuídate de él [look after him."

Yelena smiled. "No te inquietes [don't worry."

Gillpoyo's fuse was almost gone; he had no time for chatting.

"I said IN THE CROW'S-NEST!"

Soledad rolled her eyes. "Alright, alright, I'm going, cálmate [calm down."

He watched her swagger over to the rigging, and only when fully convinced that she was indeed climbing and not intending to come straight down again as soon as his back was turned, did he leave.

"You alright?" Yelena asked Mulder. It seemed to him that he'd spent all day being asked that, and every time his answer was the same.

"Yeah I'm fine." He straightened his posture. "Actually I do feel a little better."

Yelena grinned. "That'll be the gunk you swallowed."

"What the hell's in it?"

"God only knows. Which is just as well 'cos I don't think I want to."

Mulder could feel his head settling back to normal, and was starting to wonder something. "What did he mean when he said 'just like the others'? Who are the others, the rest of the crew?"

Yelena paused, regarding him. "You haven't met them, have you?"

"Who?"

"The others. A coupla men, we don't know where they came from, just popped up out of the blue. Kinda like you. And they keep talking about the same things..."

"What things?"

"The kind of things you say. All that crazy stuff you go on about. Flying between countries and guns the size of your hand and all that."

It was clear that behind Mulder's knitted brow, a very large and important penny was dropping.

"What, they know about flying and handguns and – oh, please please tell me they know what the FBI is..."

Yelena thought for a moment. "FBI. Yeah, they might have mentioned it."

"And they're on this ship?"

Yelena nodded.

Relief washed over Mulder with such force that it could have knocked him over. "Oh, well take me to their leader."

Tee hee! Well, you know what to do now to make us happy, that little button that is calling your name… And the happier we are, the more likely we are to write quickly, it's a win-win situation. (And did we mention that we LOVE you?)

Love Sirocco & Lily

xxx