(Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean.)
Just the Way it Should Be
Now that he thought back on it, Pintel realized that he'd actually known Ragetti long before he'd ever met him. In any case, he knew about him long before meeting him.
Robert Pintel had never been one to keep track of years, especially his own, but he assumed he was somewhere around the age of thirty at the time. His scraggly long hair was still dark brown in color, and he was blissfully unaware of just how little time he had left with his regular hairline before it would begin its rapid retreat.
It was morning as he made his way through the streets of Tortuga, and a strange quietness had temporarily taken hold of the pirate sanctuary. The reason for this, as Pintel had learned from his own share of experiences, was that nearly every person on the island was either severely hung over or sprawled on the ground from fatigue at this hour. Night was the only real time to live on Tortuga; day was merely the time to recover and prepare for the next night.
It was this surrounding quietness that only made Pintel seem even livelier, snickering loudly to himself as he shook his bag of coins and listened to the jingling inside. It was heavenly music to his unlucky ears, the unmistakable sound of success.
This intoxicating victory kept him in his gleeful state of mind for several more minutes, until he decided to sidestep into a nearby alley space and recount his overdue profit. It was then that the other figure, who had been secretly following him from a distance since he'd stepped off of the ship Hammer's Bane and left the docks, was finally able to catch up to her target.
A sturdy woman of only a few less years, Rebecca Pintel coolly but cautiously observed her brother's stooping figure from behind as she prepared for the inevitable confrontation about to unfold.
Keeping her right hand securely out of sight behind her back, she took a final step forward and spoke.
"I sees bein' a crewman ain't been puttin' yeh down."
Pintel nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of her voice. Quickly dropping the last two silver pieces back into the bag and hiding his prize from sight, he spun around fearfully to face his cornerer. Once he recognized who she was, however, the fear immediately left his face to make room for his anger.
"You!" he barked, pointing his finger viciously. "You stay the hell away from me, yeh dirty li'l tramp!"
Rebecca was unfazed. "Wot's gotten into you?" she asked sharply.
"You know bloody well wot's gotten into me!" Pintel snapped. "I otta' bash you in like the back-stabbin' good-for-nuffin' thief that yeh is!"
"You can't prove I had a fing to do wif 'at, Robert!"
"Can't prove it?" he echoed hotly. "I saw yeh leadin' that fellow along wif my own two eyes!"
"You were dead drunk at the time!" she shot back defensively, and then her tirade came to a screeching, stunned halt.
She had just given herself away.
"A-HA!" Pintel blasted, his rage only fueled by his triumph. "You was there! You was behind it after all!"
"That man was gonna pay me extra if I led 'im t'some loot," Rebecca hissed back smoothly. "I wasn't gonna tell 'im 'no'."
Pintel clutched his coin bag even tighter behind him. It was the only reason he was holding back from launching himself at his sister in a fit of anger that very second. "Blimey, you got a lot a' nerve comin' up to me wif 'at story! Wot the blazes was it that brought yeh over here anyway?"
"Money, that's wot," Rebecca grumbled. "I needs money."
Her older brother made a wide sweeping motion with his free arm. "Then go get to work! You ain't runnin' low on customers here!" He'd certainly never known any prostitute to be unemployed on Tortuga.
But Rebecca wasn't budging. "I would if I could!"
"And why the devil can't yeh?"
She bared her teeth at him as she roared her response. "Because I'm with child!"
A sudden hush seized Pintel just then, and for a moment his anger was replaced by confusion. Awkwardly, he started to eye Rebecca up and down, and sure enough, he spotted a slightly prominent feature on his sister's form that he hadn't noticed before. True, she wasn't quite as slim as most women in her profession, but it was clear now that her belly had swollen a tad unnaturally.
There was a pause, then the disgust began bubbling back up inside him "…Aye, I get it. Figured you'll be outta work for nine months, so you decided to leech some money offa' me while I was in town."
"Aye, that's right!" she said back without hesitation.
"Then you're an even bigger idiot than I took yeh for!" Pintel scowled. "If I'm gonna lose me a coin to any whore, it sure as hell ain't gonna be me sister!"
Rebecca stepped closer to him again, placing her left hand squarely on her hip. "Well I ain't leaving you alone 'til yeh cough me up a piece a' your last profit!"
Stubbornness was a trait that the two siblings had inherited equally.
"If that be the case, you're gonna be following charmin' ol' Robert Pintel around for a while, Missie, 'cause I ain't got no profit!"
"You're a lyin' rat," she said flatly.
Pintel nodded. "Aye, I'm lyin' when I says that you'll be followin' me around for a while."
"I know you've got coins, yeh stupid 'og!" Rebecca spat, her patience beginning to reach its end. "Yeh been dancin' and gigglin' like a ninny ever since yeh got here!"
Her brother's surprise at the statement made him even madder. "How bloody long've you been following me!" he demanded.
"Hand the bag over!"
This time, Pintel leaned closer, and with a nasty smirk, he said with cheekiness fit for a toddler, "Make me."
She decided to do just that. Whipping her right hand out from behind her back, Rebecca Pintel held out her arm as straight and steady as a wooden beam, and with a serpent-like poise, aimed the now revealed pistol right between her brother's eyes.
Pintel threw himself back against the wall in a heartbeat, cowering pathetically as he stared down the twin barrel helplessly. His horrified eyes looked like they were ready to pop right out of their sockets at that very instant.
Rebecca glowered at him frigidly. "I said 'and it over."
He was locked in a stare-down contest with his own death, and the twin-barrel wasn't about to blink. With the sound of his heartbeat hammering in his ears, Robert Pintel began to lift his shaking hands, still clutching his hard-earned bag of coins in the left.
And then he froze.
There was a gut-twisting pause as he lifted his gaze from the end of the barrel to the rest of the pistol behind it. In his panic, he'd failed to catch one little detail before, the one little hint that told him just how unfamiliar his sister was with handling this weapon she was aiming at him. He was able to keep his sneaky grin from appearing, but he couldn't help allowing the arrogant sign of victory to switch on in his eye.
The gun wasn't cocked. And he could see from Rebecca's expression that she had no idea.
Pintel lowered his left hand and calmly said, "Maybe you should just shoot me now. It'd be easier gettin' 'at bag out of me fingers if they couldn't 'old on."
His sister was no fool. She saw the look in Robert's eyes. Slowly, warily, she pulled her hand back, pointed the gun into the air, and pulled the trigger.
It didn't move.
Now it was her turn to look surprised. Again, she squeezed the trigger, only to get the same results. Growing anxious, she tried a third time, and a fourth time, and still the gun wouldn't fire.
And then Pintel decided to draw his own pistol.
BANG!
With a single shot, he knocked the gun clear out of Rebecca's trembling hand, sending the weapon clattering harmlessly to the ground. Then he pointed his pistol straight at her without so much as blinking.
Rebecca tensed slightly as she met her brother's gaze. "You wouldn't."
"Oh yeah?" He moved closer, his aim never wavering. "Try me!"
They stood like that for five chilling seconds. Pintel studied his sister's face closely. She'd betrayed and swindled him without a thought, and she had just threatened to kill him not a moment ago. He should have just pulled his trigger right then. But for whatever reason, he held himself back. Instead, he continued to point the gun at her in silence.
Finally, Rebecca could see just how slim her chances were, and slowly started backing away out of the alley.
"You're gonna be sorry for this, Robert!" she growled, trying to end their confrontation with some upper hand.
Pintel just sneered. "I wouldn't 'old my breath for it, Poppet."
She sent him one final glare, then turned and walked off, taking her unborn baggage with her.
And for many years to come, Pintel would wonder why he hadn't just shot her and ended it that day.
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