For the second time, Jonathan awoke with his limbs bound to a piece of wood. With his hands stretched in front of him and his legs awkwardly bent at the knees, ankles tied to the same pole, he bumped and wobbled in a most alarming fashion, suspended and carried between two adolescent boys in animal skins. He felt like a piece of meat on a spit-and to be fair, he rather looked the part.
A string of terribly unladylike curses were coming from somewhere up ahead and it didn't take a genius of Jonathan's caliber to figure out who it was.
"Put me down, you little brats!"
"Stuff it, pirate," a squeaky voice replied, caught between the change of boy to man. "You don't give the orders around here."
"I'm no pirate!"
"All grownups are pirates!"
"Not this one!"
The procession stopped abruptly and Jonathan was unceremoniously dropped on his back, a cloud of dust springing up around him and making him cough. The collision with the ground didn't hurt, but the accompanying allergens aggravated his lungs. Funny how the program could pick and choose which stimuli would get through to his brain and make him react like he would in the real world.
There was an answering grunt and thud up ahead, presumably caused by his companion being dumped on the ground as well. Techie called out to him, "Squishy?"
A murmur of voices that sounded like agreement erupted. "See? She calls him by a pirate name!"
"Oh shut up," she squawked angrily.
In a flurry of movement, the ropes burning into his wrists were yanked and tugged loose and the lines around his ankles followed suit, dropping him fully into the dust. He was given but a moment's respite before an army of little boys descended on him, pulling him up and shoving him between them, shuffling him toward a stake sticking upright out of the ground. If there hadn't been so many of them, Jonathan figured he probably could've gotten free, but there was no point.
"Watch those hands, you heathens! What is this, Lord of the Flies?! HEY!" He could see Techie futilely struggling with the swarm of children around her. He placidly let them lead him to one of the stakes and didn't fight them when they tied him to it. Unlike his henchgirl, he knew what was going on-to some extent-and a plan had begun to form…
"Lemme go! I've seen Children of the Corn! I'm not being anybody's Isaac! Let! Me! Go!" Techie continued to wrestle with the boys, but their superior numbers finally won out and she was lashed to the other stake, quite the worse for wear. Her Little Red Riding Hood getup was tattered in a few places it hadn't been before and she had a fat lip. She glared at him as though he were to blame for her own stupidity.
"Are you okay?"
He didn't answer. He was too busy focusing on the hooligans in front of him. The crowd of boys parted and the one who'd stood above him and crowed like a rooster strode forward, fists on his hips. His hair was like flame in the afternoon sun and his china-blue eyes blazed with the defiance only a hard headed child could possess. The haughty look in his eyes clashed with the smirk that twisted his lips, but somehow the opposing expressions worked on his face and Jonathan couldn't imagine any other mood for this boy. Bold, almost malicious rebellion and good natured mischief weren't mismatched on his features; they fit. The other children looked at him like he was some kind of God. This was the ring leader, without a doubt.
"Pirate," he said with distaste, his voice strong and commanding despite his youth.
"Pan," Jonathan spat in response.
"Peter Pan?" Techie interjected, eyes wide. She looked at Jonathan, then at the boy in autumn leaves and cobwebs, and back again, confusion warring with realization on her face.
"Quiet, wench!" Crane growled savagely. "Don't you-ye interrupt me again or…or…" he scrambled for an appropriately pirate-themed threat. When he came up with one, he silently thanked the girls for enforcing the strict observance of Talk Like a Pirate Day for the past few years. "Or I'll keel haul ye!"
She stared at him like he was from another planet.
The Lost Boys took no notice of her bug eyed look. A redhead in a fox skin pointed at Jonathan accusingly. "See? His way of talkin'; I told you he was a pirate."
There was a murmur of opposition.
"He ain't dressed like a pirate," the little one in a skunk skin said thoughtfully. "Look at his funny clothes."
"Aye, I am a pirate," the Scarecrow said with conviction, knowing full well that the first part of 'conman' stood for confidence for a reason. "I'm Sackcloth John. Surely ye've heard of me, boy?"
Pan gave a jaunty toss of his head, too cocky for his own damn good. "No, I haven't."
Jonathan leaned as far forward as the ropes around his wrists would allow, his frame hunched slightly. If his hands had been free, he would've had them on the boy's shoulders as a show of bringing him into his confidence. "Are ye sure on that point, boy? I'm rather famous 'round these parts…third behind Cap'n Hook hisself, I'd say."
The butchering of the English language made Crane wince internally. Techie winced outwardly.
A flicker of uncertainty lit in the depths of Pan's eyes. "Well…I mean…I might have."
"Only might have, lad?"
He puffed out his chest like a proud little peacock. "I've heard of a lot of pirates. Maybe I just don't remember you. Maybe you're not so important as you think you are."
"Aye, maybe so, maybe so," 'Sackcloth John' conceded with an sad, exaggerated shake of his head. "Still, we got a common enemy, you and me. Mayhap we can help each other."
"I don't need no help from a stinkin' pirate and his stinkin' wench."
"Hey! My hygiene is leaps and bounds better than yours, shortstack."
"Woman!" Jonathan shouted, turning to look at her fiercely. "It'll be the plank fer you if you don't bite your tongue! Can't ye see negotiation when it's happening right in front of your fool face?"
"We aren't negotiationing nothin'," Pan snapped. "You're a pirate. We don't work together, you're my prisoners!"
Pan drew a shining silver dagger and jabbed it at his throat, the point mere millimeters from his carotid artery. Jonathan could imagine the Joker, confronted with the weapon, clasping his hands in front of himself and cooing, "What a cute little pig sticker!", directly before gutting the kid like a fish. The image almost made him smile.
"What've you done with Wendy?"
"We haven't done anything with Miss Darling," he replied, eyes glued to the dagger. His acting skills weren't going to win him any Oscars, but he was doing a fair impersonation of genuine fear. "Cap'n Hook-that common enemy I was telling you about-he's the one what got her."
"Then he'll trade her for you." The blade poked Jonathan's skin, but it didn't hurt. It was like a pinprick; more of an annoyance than an ache.
Jonathan shook his head. "No, he won't. Led a mutiny agin him not too long ago, boy. He won't give two shakes of a crocodile's tail whether you got me or not."
Pan grew thoughtful and drew the knife back. "The wench, then."
"Just as much a foe to Hook as I am, she is…"
Angry, the boy looked up at his captive again. "Then we don't need you for nothin'."
"I wouldn't say nothin'…just because Hook won't trade doesn't mean I can't help you-ye with getting the girl back."
"How?" The look of mischief was replaced with one of wary intrigue.
Got him.
Jonathan allowed a smile to briefly cross his face. "Who better to sneak onto a pirate ship and launch a daring rescue than a pirate?"
Who indeed…
With Techie left behind at Hangman's Tree as collateral, Jonathan fought his way through the brambles, branches and various other obstacles the dense forest had to offer. The Lost Boys hadn't equipped him with any kind of weapon, so he was forced to thrash about in the greenery to make progress; the path only went so far in the direction of the bay where the Jolly Roger was anchored, so getting up close and personal with mother nature was a necessary evil. The going was slow, but it gave him plenty of time to think about his strategy.
Thus far, he had…nothing.
He'd read Peter Pan as a boy, of course, and a few times as an adult. Arkham Asylum had a book cart that made the rounds every once in a while, full of books that had been donated for the patients to read; the selection was less than spectacular and most of the books had 'Property of Gotham School District #39' stamped inside their covers, but a book was a book and a classic was a classic. Jonathan wasn't going to complain because he'd been forced to keep company with J.M. Barrie on more than one occasion.
As such, he knew the storyline backward and forward. Since Peter Pan wasn't exactly chalk full of female characters, he figured that whichever of his henchgirls was stuck inside this particular novel had taken up the mantle of Wendy Darling. There was a slim chance that she'd been given the role of Princess Tiger Lily, but his gut told him that wasn't the case.
Still, something about this particular telling of Peter Pan didn't ring true. In the book, Wendy was taken captive by Captain Hook, but the Lost Boys were with her at the time. Here, Wendy was the only hostage of the black hearted captain of the Jolly Roger. It didn't make sense; unless, of course, Techie's theory about the technology adapting the story to fit the user was correct.
If that were the case, there might not be any preparing for whatever he found once he reached the ship. God only knew what the fertile imagination of a henchgirl could do to muddle the book's plot. If Techie's Big Bad Wolf was musically inclined, he might be meeting a Captain Hook who liked the jitterbug. On the other, more worrying hand, he might be meeting a Captain Hook who had more in common with Freddy Krueger than Gene Kelly. It was hard to say which was more likely.
By the time the forest started to thin out a bit and the clear blue-green waters of the ocean surrounding the island came into view, dusk was falling. The scene was positively breathtaking and even someone as inherently gloomy as Jonathan Crane had to stop and stare in awe.
The beach stretched before him, the white sand glowing gold in the setting sun, the palm trees awash in warm light. The waves were gentle, the sun dappled on the surface of the water that grew darker toward the horizon. Near the beach it was clear and blue, almost like a chlorine treated pool, but the color darkened to a murkier midnight blue in the distance. The forest crept out onto the beach a little, the lush plants making a valiant effort to encroach on the sand, but it was like something forcibly held them back. Some barrier that wasn't visible to the naked eye, keeping the uncontrolled wild away from the vacation brochure-perfect beach.
The Jolly Roger, perched majestically on the waves about three hundred yards out, moved a little in the water, nodding like the head of a sleepy child. The sails were open against the rapidly dimming purple sky, despite the fact the ship was obviously anchored, and the black flag with a skull and crossbones on it waved merrily in the breeze. A man in the crow's nest held a small, round accordion, playing a cheery tune that Jonathan's brain registered as slightly familiar and a handful of crewmen on deck went about the last of the day's work, singing.
"There was Harpoon Hannah, had a look that spelled out danger. My heart quivered, when she whispered, 'I'm there, stranger'," the accordion player sang mournfully, "I bought her trinkets that sailors can't afford…"
"Sailors can't afford," the men on deck echoed, their voices raised in surprisingly pretty harmony.
The song's tempo picked up as the crewman in the crow's nest continued with a laugh, "And when I spent my last red cent, she tossed me overboard."
A smile spread on the Scarecrow's face before he was even aware of it. Somewhere in the back of his mind he thought that if someone wanted to paint a picture of maritime life and make it seem beautiful and inviting, then they should have set up their easel right here on the beach. Never in all his life had Jonathan Crane wanted to be a pirate, until now.
He stood and watched for a few minutes before he ventured a little ways out onto the beach and plopped down in front of the nearest palm tree. He leaned back against the knotty surface, pushing an errant coconut away from its base so that he could settle a bit more comfortably. There was no way he was going to be able to sneak onto the ship now; there were too many men about. He would have to wait until the majority went below deck.
That was fine with him. All the walking through the forest had worn him to the point of exhaustion. An excuse to sit and rest was more than welcome. Certainly on some level he still desperately wanted to get out of this place, but Never Land, magical as it had ever been, was lulling him into a strange state of complacency. The place made you forget things, that's how it was designed, and right now he was forgetting that desperation. Perhaps it was because he was so overtired, or perhaps it was just the place itself, or perhaps this was what A Novel Idea was meant to do-to replicate the setting of a book so accurately that even its side effects worked on the subject's nerves.
It didn't matter. Staring out at the tranquil waves and the sky above them, the sounds of a slower, more somber sea shanty drifting on the breeze, Jonathan nodded off.
The feeling of smooth, scaly legs crawling over his bare ankle woke him with a start. A hermit crab was making its way across the beach, slowly dragging its shell, and the Scarecrow was in its way. He brushed it gently off his leg, still not fully conscious and stretched his limbs, yawning widely. For a moment, he stared out into the near pitch darkness without seeing, confused as to his whereabouts, but then everything came rushing back to him.
The sky was dark, dotted with a million pinpoints of light, the moon full and round shining down on the waves, and the Jolly Roger rode the ocean in silence. The spell of the sunset was broken and he found the quiet that had descended eerie and unsettling, the sense of well being he'd had before was completely lost in the gloom. It took a few minutes for his eyes to adjust fully and when they did, he scanned the beach on instinct.
Everything looked the same save the fact that there was a new addition to the sands that hadn't been there when he'd fallen asleep: a worn looking rowboat.
Hmmm.
Maybe he was supposed to fall asleep?
He gracelessly pushed himself off the tree, his muscles stiff and rubbery as he stood, brushing sand from his person as he went. He started for the little boat, glad for its mysterious appearance. At least now he didn't have to swim to the ship. Swimming three hundred yards of unfamiliar ocean was about two hundred ninety yards too far, in his opinion.
Despite his initial assessment, he found the boat was in very good condition when he reached it, the oars light but sturdy. It was a bit of a struggle to get it into the water, but he managed without much trouble. He climbed in and started to row, weakly at first and then with a bit more confidence. Apparently, his upper body strength in the land of fiction was quite a bit more impressive than it was in the real world. He was halfway to the ship in just a few minutes and he wasn't the least bit out of breath.
A sudden rushing sound interrupted his rhythm, giving him pause. The boat continued moving toward its destination anyway.
This made him look up and he realized that his rowing skill had nothing to do with his rapid forward momentum. A hole yawned open from the surface of the water, a whirlpool that wasn't quite a normal whirlpool, pulling his tiny vessel toward it with increasing speed.
Nothing could ever just be easy, could it?
Jonathan kept his wits about him, turned around in the rowboat and fought the current with all his might.
It was a losing battle.
Water splashed into the boat, a wild spray of sea water erupting from nowhere soaking him through suddenly. Real whirlpools didn't work this way. Logic said that something this size shouldn't have been this powerful, but fiction could bend the rules of reality for the sake of story.
The wood panels that made up the boat he was sitting in started to shudder under the strange, unnatural pull of the water, forcing the little craft to literally come apart at the seams. The boat started to tip into the cyclone of water and Jonathan abandoned his oars, standing up shakily. He took in a great heaving breath, held it and dove into the water just as the rowboat was tugged apart and the pieces yanked under by the force of the ocean.
The water was peculiarly warm, like an indoor pool, and he kicked against the pull of the whirlpool, trying to break the surface. Thanks to Al's expert tutelage he could swim adequately and hold his breath a maximum of a minute and a half, but his lungs burned and contracted inside his chest, crying out for oxygen all the same.
The whirlpool was unrelenting, pulling him down and down despite his desperate clawing at the water and the paddling of his feet. A swish of water in front of him and a pair of startling, sparkling silver eyes staring at him from the middle of a cloud of emerald hair in the water made him release part of the breath he was holding in surprise, a torrent of bubbles flying up past his face.
Between the thoughts, Damn it! and I'm going to drown, the word mermaid squeezed itself in.
The thing in front of him wasn't exactly Disney animated material-for starters, there were no seashells used for modesty's sake-but it had a weird sort of allure with its translucent mother-of-pearl skin and glowing eyes. Its body wasn't half human like so many illustrators would have depicted it-the skin of its torso was just as scaly as its tail-but it was distinctly woman shaped and undeniably beautiful in an indescribable way.
All in all, it was exactly as he'd always imagined the sirens of Greek mythology looked. More fish than woman.
Elegantly, it reached out its long, willowy arms and wrapped him in an embrace, pulling him close, pinning his arms to his sides. Its powerful arms squeezed tightly around his chest, forcing out the last bit of air he was holding onto and Jonathan remembered the other thing he always imagined about mermaids: they were, by nature, man killers. The last bubble of oxygen he had in his lungs escaped and with it, a yelp.
The mermaid just tilted its head at him, blinking curiously. With a hysterical internal laugh, he realized it reminded him of the empty eyed crow in the cornfield. His vision started to dim around the edges, blackness tightening from the outer edges inward until all he could see were two pinpoints at the very center.
Through the haze, he saw the mermaid nod its head, its hair swirling around his face and brushing his skin. Instantly, they were propelled toward the surface in three strokes of the mermaid's tail.
The air was freezing when it hit his face and Jonathan gasped, pulling in large gulps of it. It hurt his lungs, burned his eyes and stung his nostrils, but he couldn't stop gasping frantically. The mermaid didn't release him, but it did loosen its grip, letting him breathe more freely.
The mermaid didn't stop staring at him, even as it tugged him closer to the Jolly Roger. Its intense scrutiny of him was disquieting, but he wasn't in any shape to deny its inquisitiveness.
A net made of coarse rope hung over the side of the ship and as it came into reach, the mermaid took Jonathan's hand, forcing him to take hold of it. His fingers were a little stiff, but he finally grabbed it and held on for dear life. The mermaid released him and for a moment, his head sank beneath the water. It pulled him back up again and secured his other hand around the netting.
Confident that he wouldn't sink again, it floated back a foot. It looked distinctly satisfied with itself and a smug, closed mouth smile stretched its shining lips. In that instant, he thought it looked an awful lot like Al when she was too pleased with herself.
The moment he made the comparison in his head, it ducked beneath the waves. The last he saw of it was its tail bursting above the water a few times as it swam away. He stared after it, willing his body to stop shaking and his breathing to return to normal.
He felt weak for several minutes and then a fresh surge of strength washed over him and he felt refreshed. Techie had said it was all virtual…his body wasn't actually in any peril, his mind was just playing tricks on him. The program was taking a long time to catch up and block the sensations, though…maybe the nanobots were already starting to deteriorate.
Jonathan turned in the water and scrambled up the netting like a clumsy spider, hoisting himself over the edge and onto the deck with a surprisingly small amount of difficulty. When he landed with a thump behind a barrel of grog, he froze, sitting very, very still, worried that he might have awakened the crew below. No one stirred, though. He looked around, craning his neck to see better and was surprised that there wasn't anyone patrolling.
He grabbed the edge of the barrel and pulled himself up, frowning. Surely Captain Hook would have someone watching the ship-
The feel of cold, pointed steel jabbing into his back, right between his shoulder blades, stopped him dead.
"Dunnae move," a gruff voice said from behind him in a harsh whisper, thick with an obviously fake accent. "I gotcha covered, see?"
Years of being arrested had him trained well. He raised his hands above his head slowly.
"Turn around."
He did as he was bade and came face to face with the Captain.
She wore a pair of well tailored breeches that were tucked into brown knee high boots. A billowy, puffy sleeved, but still feminine enough to be flattering, cream colored pirate shirt was secured around her waist with a blue satin sash and her short hair was swept under a red scarf on her head. Her bangs poked out from beneath it and a huge gold earring hung from her left ear. An eye patch completed the look, covering her right eye.
"Captain?"
She lowered her sword and let out a little squeal, throwing herself at him and wrapping her arms around his neck. "Squishy!"
He tugged her loose and pushed her back. "Why are you a pirate? You're supposed to be Wendy."
"I am!" she said excitedly. "Or, I was. You know, Captain Hook offered Wendy the chance to be a pirate. She just didn't take it. I did! Now, I'm Red Handed Jill, Queen of the Seven Seas! Isn't it great?"
He wondered if the sea air had done something to her brain. "Why do you have an eye patch?"
"It's a pirate thing." She snapped her fingers. "Don't you know anything? You wear an eye patch all day and if the ship is attacked at night, you move it to cover the other eye. The one that was covered all day is already adjusted to handle darkness, so you're not stumbling around waiting for your night vision to warm up."
"That sounds unsettlingly scientific."
"Captain Hook is a smart guy. Mostly." She smiled at him. "Oh, Squishy, this is the best technology ever. I got to swab the deck today! The deck! Of a real ship! Well, not real real, but real enough."
A tinkling like the sound of a thousand tiny church bells ringing in tandem startled him and he looked toward the source of the noise. A flickering light bobbled through the air and came to hover over the Captain's shoulder. She smiled at it.
"Hi, Tink!"
The little blob of light tinkled again.
Oh, now this just went against everything in the book. "Why is Peter Pan's pixie with you?"
The tinkling sound grew angry and the fairy light flew up in Jonathan's face, crazily zipping about in front of him. He had a hard time focusing on the hyper little thing, until it came to a stop between his eyes and bopped him squarely on the nose.
He staggered back and rubbed the aching appendage. "What was that for?"
"Tink says she doesn't belong to anybody," the Captain said with a nod at the little light. Tinkerbell came back to hover over her shoulder, jingling happily once more. "She's her own person. Or pixie, if you prefer. She doesn't need a man to own her."
Jonathan stared at her, completely astounded. "Are you telling me that you liberated Tinkerbell?"
"Yes, yes I did." She looked immensely pleased with herself. "I told her all about the women's lib movement. If she had a bra, she would've burned it."
All he could do was stare. Leave it to the Captain to turn a haughty, vain and jealous creature like Tinkerbell into a militant feminist.
"Now, if you'll excuse me, Tink and I have a patrol to finish." She saluted him with her sword and swung it up until the blade rested on her shoulder. "There's a free hammock in the hold. You should get some sleep."
That snapped him out of his reverie. "Are you mad? We can't stay here."
Her brow puckered. "Why not? I like being a pirate. I want to be a pirate."
He eyed her strangely. "I thought you wanted to be a ninja?"
"With my balance? Yeah, right." She shrugged and Tinkerbell tittered. "Pirates beat ninjas anyway, like zombies beat unicorns."
The fact that particular analogy made perfect sense to Jonathan scared him a little.
"And," she added, "I rather like Captain Hook."
"He's the villain!"
She looked at him pointedly as the irony of his own statement sank in. He scowled.
"He's not so bad. He's kind of fabulous, actually." Tinkerbell jingled in agreement and Jonathan thought he heard the sound of J.M. Barrie turning over in his grave. "He's Eton educated, reads poetry, plays the harpsichord-"
"Hurts children."
At this, the Captain frowned. "Well, yeah…but the point is moot anyway. My story objective is to be rescued. I don't think I can leave until that happens. I have to wait. I might as well have some fun while I'm waiting, right?"
"But you can't stay here. I-"
"AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" The cry that suddenly shattered the relative calm of the evening would have put any self respecting banshee to shame. Jonathan and the Captain looked up at the sound and a million things seemed to happen at once.
The crew of the Jolly Roger burst from below decks in a scrambling mass of half dressed, slightly inebriated man flesh. Daggers were in teeth, sabers were in hand, and Smee, a few seconds too late, rushed out from his cabin, blowing the little brass whistle he kept around his neck, shouting, "All hands on deck!"
Captain Hook took the longest to emerge from his cabin, but when he finally stepped out into the night air, he did so as regally as a man in a nightshirt and sleeping cap possibly could've.
"What in blue blazes is going on here, Smee?" he screeched, causing the boatswain to jump considerably.
Smee saluted clumsily, fumbling his whistle in the process. "We're under attack, Cap'n!"
From the forests of Neverland a small army of children came forth. An entire tribe of Neverland warriors came up behind the Lost Boys and at the very head of this ragtag assault group, between Peter Pan and Princess Tiger Lily, was Techie. Her little green dress was completely ruined, the pinafore a dirty gray color instead of its original pristine white and her face was smudged with blood. Her hair stuck out in every direction, like it hadn't been properly washed in weeks, making her look like some sort of fierce, living bush.
Tiger Lily held a bow at eye level, a quiver of arrows at her back; Pan gripped his dagger tightly, facial expression set in grim determination and the henchgirl held a short sword aloft as they rushed the ship. Somehow, the Jolly Roger was now anchored less than fifty feet from the shore. More of the reality bending power of A Novel Idea, no doubt.
"Desperta ferro!" Techie cried.
"Man the cannons!" Hook shouted.
"Woohoo!" The Captain exclaimed with a triumphant fist pump. "Action scene!"
Shockingly, the Captain took up arms against the coming cavalry and Jonathan found a sword handle pressed into his hand. Bewildered, he looked at the coming army of children.
"Traitor! TRAITOR!" Pan yelled, pointing accusingly at Jonathan. He lifted from the ground effortlessly and flew straight for him. He barely ducked out of the way of the boy's dagger in time, tucking into a ball and rolling away. Captain Hook lunged for Pan with his hook and the flying menace forgot all about 'Sackcloth John'.
It took no time at all for the ship to be swarming with Pan's fighting force, boys tackling pirates en masse and dragging them to the deck, tying them up. The warriors stayed ashore, bombarding the ship with flaming arrows that caught the sails and set them alight. They burned steadily, but didn't turn to ash. Instead, the flames just smoldered, making the night bright as day. The flaming sails didn't give off heat, either, which was fortunate. It would've been like fighting inside an oven if they had.
Jonathan did his best to stay out of the way of the chaos, eventually taking cover behind a large chest. He wasn't surprised to find Smee cowering behind it as well. The two men gave each other a perfunctory glance, a sheepish shrug and then went back to watching the unfolding battle.
Techie's head popped up over the boat's railing and she swung a leg over it, clumsily levering herself on deck. She landed unsteadily, sword still in hand.
"Captain!" she shouted.
Hook's head whipped around towards her as he held Peter Pan pinned beneath him, hook raised in preparation to plunge it into the boy's heart. "Me?"
"Not you, Captain, the other Captain!" She pointed at the woman Hook knew as Wendy. Peter Pan slipped out of Hook's grasp and the chase was on again, 'Red Handed Jill' forgotten. "I'm here to rescue you!"
"Aren't you a little short to be a storm trooper?"
"Captain!" Her tone was pure scolding.
"I don't want to be rescued, Ops!" the other woman shouted. "Privateering is fun!"
Tinkerbell flew up in Techie's face and buzzed about, tinkling angrily and tossing pixie dust in the other henchgirl's eyes. Techie sneezed violently and the force of the sneeze blew the fairy back, right into the mast. The tinkling sound ceased abruptly and the little light plummeted to the deck, knocked unconscious, Jonathan guessed.
"This isn't a game!" Techie shouted, lifting her sword threateningly. "We have to get out of here!"
The Captain pouted at her. "But Ops, when's the next time we'll get to fence without repercussions? On a pirate ship? Can't we play? Just this once? Please? I'll even let you be Inigo!"
This almost calm exchange was very out of place in the midst of the bedlam on the Jolly Roger. Even more bizarre was Techie's sudden change of stance-a dueling stance. If his eyes weren't playing tricks on him, Jonathan could've sworn her short sword had suddenly been replaced with a rapier.
"Who wants to be Inigo?" she asked lightly. "I want to be Porthos!"
The Captain let out a joyous laugh, grabbing a rope that hung from the mast. She got a running start and lifted off the ground, swinging toward her friend, one boot thrust out in front of her. The sole struck Techie squarely in the chest and knocked her off her feet. Techie landed with an 'oof' and the Captain landed gracefully, dancing out of the rapier's range.
"Then I get to be Aramis!"
Techie stood, seemingly unaffected by the blow to her chest. She raised her sword again and the two friends ran at each other, steel clashing and sparking on impact. They growled at each other from between clenched teeth, but it was all they could do to contain their grins.
"I'll cut you to ribbons!"
"I'd like to see you try! You fight like my sister!"
"I've fought your sister, that's a compliment!"
The Captain let out a squee and struck again. "Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya, you killed my father, prepare to die!"
"Stop saying that!" They struggled against each other for a few seconds and then leapt back again. "Let your sword do the talking!"
"I will, it will be loquacious to a fault!" the Captain charged Techie and they locked blades once more.
"I see your Shwartz is just as big as mine!"
The Captain's lip twitched but she didn't break 'character'. The scrap continued.
Crash! Ding! Crash!
Jonathan could practically hear them panting with effort from where he crouched. They dealt each other a couple of non-lethal blows, Techie poked the Captain in the left shoulder and the Captain poked her foe in the right. Spots of blood appeared but the combatants were oblivious. Their swords locked one more time.
"Oh, give up, would you?"
"It's just a flesh wound!"
In the same instant, they blurted in unison, "You've got an arm off!"
Instantly, their faces crumpled and they dropped their swords with a clatter, helplessly collapsing against each other with laughter.
The battle around them seemed to freeze and its participants stared at the two women holding each other and cackling insanely. Hook held Pan off the deck by the throat and stared dumbly; the first mate, Mister Starkey, stood with three Lost Boys hanging off him, one on each bicep and one on his back with his arms around the pirate's throat; the rest of the crew was similarly occupied.
They just kept laughing, eventually flopping on the deck. After a few seconds that felt like forever, their guffaws started dying down a bit and they gasped for air.
"Okay," the Captain said between gulps, "I'm ready to be rescued now."
Techie nodded, taking deep heaving breaths and stood. She offered the Captain her hand and the moment they touched, a hole opened in midair, just like the one that she and Jonathan had leapt through to get to Neverland.
The chest that Jonathan had taken up residence behind started to melt in front of his eyes and he scrambled out from behind it. 'Reality' started deteriorating almost instantly. 'Wendy's' story objective had been fulfilled. Lost Boys and Pirates started to blur together like oil painting figures melting into each other. He ran for the opening between universes and caught the Captain's hand.
Jonathan didn't even have to jump into the portal this time; an irresistible force pulled him and the girls into the darkness, like someone on the other side had ropes around their waists. Again, he was swimming in something intangible but that still felt viscous and oddly solid, like not-quite-set Jell-o.
There was a shout that sounded something like 'Gotcha, codfish!' from behind them and then the portal was swallowed up by darkness. Instantaneously, another one opened directly beneath the three travelers and gravity took over suddenly, dropping them like stones. There was no hill to roll down, just an unnaturally soft, absurdly large haystack to get stuck in.
With a grunt and a groan, he fought his way out of the stuff and sat atop it. The surrounding countryside looked innocuous enough to Jonathan and he allowed himself a sigh of relief. It was a little too picturesque, a little too Van Gogh, but there weren't any children with rocks lurking anywhere. He could relax a little.
There were two identical crunching noises as Techie and the Captain dropped into their own haystack a few feet to his right. "Still in one piece?"
"Yeah. We're fine." The Captain sat up a little dazedly, bits of straw sticking out of the scarf on her head and pulled off her eye patch.
"Hey, Captain?" Techie said breathlessly, lying on her back in the straw, clearly exhausted.
The Captain looked at her. "Yes, Ops?"
"Roll, roll, roll in ze hay."
The Captain laughed so hard she rolled right off ze haystack.
Notes:
1. The sea shanty sung by the crew of the Jolly Roger is called 'Whale of a Tale' from the Disney film '20,000 Leagues Under the Sea'. You can probably find a clip of the song performed by Kirk Douglas on youtube. It makes me happy and I have no doubt that the Captain would teach it to the crew. I've seen her sing it.
2. Talk Like a Pirate Day is September 19th. It's a real internet-bred 'holiday', just like Double Steak Day, which isn't as much fun, by the way.
3. 'Desperta ferro!' is the war cry of an old order of specially trained soldiers-cum-mercenaries in Italy. It means 'Awake the iron!' Despite being half Italian, I don't speak the language (aside from a few choice insults), but it is my favorite battle cry, other than, "The cheese stands alone!", but that really only works if you're a kamakaze Wisconsinite working alone.
4. I haven't read Peter Pan in er…holy crap, fifteen years? Wow. I'm getting old. Anyway. I hope there aren't too many inaccuracies, characterization-wise. Hook is Eton educated, though. In the play, his last words are the Latin motto of the school.
5. The eye patch thing is true. Thank you, Mythbusters Pirate Special.
6. Pirates pwn Ninjas because I say so. Zombies pwn unicorns because John Green says so. (Google 'vlogbrothers' and watch John and Hank Green on youtube. You'll get it.)
7. This chapter is a referenceapalooza. Kudos to those who get the inside jokes.
8. Anyone care to venture a guess as to where they'll find Al? Anybody? :D C'mon, make a suggestion if you haven't got a guess. Where would you like to see her turn up?