I must say that I'm satisfied with the way this chapter turned out --for some reason the 'card scene' ended up being particularly gratifying to write-- so please do let me know what you think. At this rate, I'm thinking that another five chapters (give or take) should put a cap on this story, although you never can tell what will ultimately take place. Hope you enjoy this, and perhaps note that once again I'm sitting at my computer at 3:12 in the morning to post this. Heh.
... TanzFieber
The lantern light guttered as a breeze sprung up and the two figures whose faces were illuminated by the small flame shivered a bit. Kelsea curled her fingers tighter around a small stack of wooden poker chips, gazing intently at the five cards held before her face from under the brim of a beaten tri-cornered hat. Poking her tongue out in concentration, the girl finally chose two of the five and laid them down on the table. "Two, please," she said carefully, watching the face across from hers carefully for a reaction– to no avail.
Mr. Cotton's kindly wrinkled face was the perfect poker blank as he slid her two new cards from the beaten-up deck to his right. Even the parrot seemed to sense the gravity of the situation, and didn't make a sound as the transaction took place. The bird even appeared to study Cotton's own hand as the man reassessed it. After contemplating his chances for a moment, the elderly pirate cove exchanged only one before settling back down to level a challenging stare at the nine-year-old. Kelsea bit her lip for a moment and scrunched up her nose before finally challenging him.
"Alrigh', Mr. Cotton… Think I've got ye this time…" She pushed the hat back off her forehead before laying her hand on the table. "Full-house!"
The other sighed rather dramatically and rolled his eyes towards the heavens before showing her his own cars– a pair of twos and a pair of kings. He couldn't keep up the disappointed charade for long though, because the small girl's face had broken out into a contagious grin.
"Ah-HAH! I beatchya! YES!" Kelsea yelped gleefully, scooping the pile of chips into her lap and raising her arms in victory. Still trying to hide his smile, Cotton shook a gnarled finger at her and his parrot broke its silence.
"Walk the plank!" The bird squawked accusingly, to which the dark-haired child responded by wrinkling her nose and pointing back.
"Did not!" she protested, all injured-innocence except for the giggling. "Mr. Cotton, th'bird thinks I cheated! I did not– I won fair 'n square this time, on me oath I did!" Unfortunately, it was then that another ten or so chips fell out of the girl's sleeve and onto the table. "Oh. Um. Er… Who's been puttin' chips in me sleeves? Swear t'wasn't me, Mr. Cotton, on me oath t'wasn't!"
It was only a few moments after that when both the girl and the old man had dissolved completely into laughter, the bird still repeating his accusations. Huddled around a crate on the deck of the Black Pearl, neither she nor he felt the eyes that watched their every move.
Captain Jack Sparrow pulled his coat tighter about himself against the slight chill and readjusted the sling from where it was chafing uncomfortably on his neck. The cheery laughter coming from the deck below had definitely not failed to catch his attention, and he stepped closer to the railing so as to get a better look at what was going on.
"PIRATE, AWK!" cried the parrot.
"LOOK WHO'S BLOODY TALKIN'!"
Jack swallowed the lump in his throat that arose as he watched his daughter's antics, taking in the way she danced around like a dervish and pulled ridiculous faces through her giggles. Jack watched the mate Cotton smile indulgently in the way that he had, his shoulders shaking with the same cheery laughter. Jack watched as Kelsea finally responded to the parrot's repeated calls of 'PIRATE!' with a dramatic bow and a doffing of her (and by her, he meant his) hat… and Jack sighed.
Huh, resilient liddle lass… he thought absently before making his way towards the stairs, wondering at the fact that she could be so apparently carefree after all that had happened in the recent past. Wish t'were really that easy…
Down on the deck, Kelsea Sparrow stopped her jig and finally just collapsed back against the crate-table, breathing deeply of the salty air. Cotton panted a bit as well, shaking his grizzled head good-naturedly. Just as she was about to challenge him to another game, however, the sound of someone clearing his throat caused her to look up.
"S'gettin' late, lass… Time ye got t'bed." the captain stated rather brusquely, having arrived next to the poker-playing duo. "Cotton, what say ye take th'firs' watch?"
The raven-haired little girl opened her mouth as if to argue, but Cotton only patted her hand and nodded at her in an obvious 'he's right' sort of way. She sighed and nodded herself, dumping her stash of wooden chips back onto the crate. "As ye say, Cap'n Sparrow."
The truth was, although she was tired Kelsea was very much dreading the thought of going to bed– the thought of returning to Joshamee Gibbs's empty cabin by herself. She was sure the nightmares would come back and frankly it scared her, but not quite enough to mention it to Captain Jack… A girl had to have some pride, after all. She made short work of clearing away the cards and chips before glancing up at Mr. Cotton one more time.
"Goodnight… Thanks fer teachin' me…"
"Clear skies an' smooth sailin'!" called the blue and yellow parrot– which, for the most part, everyone figured meant 'goodnight.' Pulling a cloak about his shoulders, Cotton headed aft and Jack was once again left alone in the company of one small girl.
"Lissen, lass–" he began, but was immediately cut off.
"Thanks fer letting' me borrow yer hat, Captain. 'Night."
Jack Sparrow sighed for seemingly the bazillionth time as he looked down at the tri-cornered hat that had been thrust into his hands and then back up at the girl's back as she strode away purposefully. Alone again."…Bugger."
LATER IN THE DARK…
"NOOO! SAVE ME–! ANYBODY–!"
For the second night in a row, Jack Sparrow was jolted awake by desperate cries– although thankfully, he wasn't in a chair this time. Still, he floundered in his sheets for a few disorienting moments, cursing as he bumped his head against the wall. What the–? Bloody Hell, not again…
Despite his hopes, however, another few wails coming from the room across the hall confirmed the obvious– th'whelp were havin' nightmares again. Jack reluctantly sat up with a groan and climbed out of bed, fairly stalking bare-foot across his quarters and into the hall. Grumbling darkly about ridiculous little girls being afraid of their own shadows, he quietly opened the door across from his own and peered inside.
"N-noo… Mr. G-gibbs… M'sor-ryy-yy…"
Furrowing his brow, Jack tried his damndest to remember that he was annoyed at being woken up… but it now seemed impossible as he once again found himself gazing down at the fragile sleeping figure of his small daughter. Once again prompted by some instinct that he didn't really understand, the pirate stretched out a hand and brushed a lock of chocolate hair away from the girl's face.
"Shhh… Wake up, lass…" he murmured and she immediately acted upon his words, startling awake with a strangled gasp. Kelsea Sparrow glanced around wildly before her gaze adjusted to take in the shadowy figure of Jack standing over her.
"C-cap'n..?" she stammered unsurely, still trying to separate the all-too-real dream from the present night-time reality.
"Aye. S'jus' a dream, lass– breathe easy now…"
Silence fell, except for the child's still somewhat labored breathing. Kelsea was clutching at her blanket and Jack was still unconsciously stroking her hair. It wasn't long, however, that the captain became aware of what he was doing and let his hand drop.
"Alrigh' now?" he asked finally, his voice thick with sleep and tinged with uncertainty.
"I-I Think so…"
"Good. I'll um. I'll jus' be getting' back t'bed then…" he mumbled awkwardly, and had turned to go when he felt a small clammy hand grab his own.
"No–!" the small child had cried out automatically, and when he stopped to look at her incredulously, she blushed in the darkness. Unfortunately, she knew that at least in the dark, her need for company would win against her pride. Taking a deep breath, Kelsea whimpered softly. "P-please… stay wiv me?"
"… What?"
"M'sorry, jus'… Don' leave… please…"
Jack Sparrow gazed down at the girl, completely and utterly unsure of what to do. Should he stay? Should he leave? Once voice in his head told him to pull away from her and let the whelp deal with her own bad dreams… but another was keeping him rooted to the floor. He sighed and felt her fingers tighten around his own.
"Lass, m'not sleepin' on this bloody floor again…" he began, trying to be firm. Kelsea said nothing, but her pleading eyes continued to burn into his soul in the darkness.
"I– um… Oh Bloody Hell…" Jack exhaled heavily, shaking his head at what he was about to say. "Alrigh', up ye get." he slid his hand from hers and stepped back a pace, motioning exasperatedly for her to follow. The girl didn't move for a moment, staring dumbly up at him. "I said, c'mon–"
"Um… Where're we going..?" Kelsea found her small voice at last, but the captain simply waved at her impatiently, stifling a yawn.
"Well ye won' stay here by yer onesies an' I refuse t'put meself through the agony o' sleepin' on the planks, so come wiv me."
Still confused and blinking sleep from her eyes, the nine-year-old child finally did as he bade, getting to her feet and following him out of the room. Once in the hallway, the door banged shut, causing the girl to jump and latch onto the man-in-front-of-her's person with a frightened squeak.
"Oomph–!" Jack grunted at the impact and felt her arms encircle his waist. He turned in her grasp and looked down, gazing at the top of her head as her face was currently buried in his shirt. It wasn't that the sudden action made him uncomfortable– rather, the opposite– and that did tend to be disconcerting. Why was there a (not unpleasant) surge in his gut as he laid an uncertain on top of her head..? What was this inexplicable feeling of warmth that he was experiencing as she held on to him? BUGGER BUGGER BUGGER, he didn't LIKE it, did he–? Afraid to read any further into it for the time being, the dread-locked pirate decided to just pretend like nothing had happened. Turning once more, he continued towards his destination, the girl still holding onto his shirt with both hands.
During that same shirt-clutching moment, Kelsea was mentally berating herself. What'm I doin' holdin onto 'im–? Don' be such a baby, t'was prob'ly th'wind! Despite these deprecating thoughts, however, the child could not bring herself to let go of the man. Bleedin' hell…Before she could think any further, she walked into the back of him as he stopped.
"Alrigh', whelp… jus' get inta th'bed an' get some sleep."
Kelsea slowly unclenched her fistfulls of shirt and gazed around in confusion. "W-where are we, C-cap'n?"
"Me cabin." Jack yawned again and gave her a gentle, but somewhat impatient shove towards the unmade bed in the corner. "Now sleep."
Wondering at this new turn of events but afraid to ask questions or argue, the girl allowed herself to be shepherded towards the bed and finally just clambered in. The sheets smelled of rum and the sea…
Neither father nor daughter spoke for a long– the girl gazing mutely up and the pirate gazing wordlessly down in the darkness. After a bit, though, the child's eyelids began drooping and with one last muffled yawn, she slumped down asleep in the bed. Sighing in relief, the notorious Captain Jack Sparrow suddenly noticed how tired he himself was. Only one problem: where was HE going to sleep if the whelp was in his bed–?
AND AFTER THAT…
Sunshine filtered lazily in through the small porthole, throwing dancing oceanic reflections across the planked floor. Also newly illuminated in the corner of the room, two slumbering forms in a somewhat ridiculous arrangement– the full-sized bed held one dread-locked pirate propped against the pillows and one raven-haired little girl curled against him, her head laying on his knee.
A/N: This last scene, you may realize, is partially verbatim to the opening paragraph of chapter ten. Note the sublte differences though, eh? Oh, and one more thing: lately there have been a couple of ideas floating around inside my (nearly empty otherwise) head and I was thinking of capitalizing on them in the form of new stories. Both ideas are J/E ficlets, although neither would include the standard romantic pairing. I'll put it to you, my lovelies-- should I go for it?