Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, and with my psychic abilities I conclude that neither do you. (le sigh) It's a cruel, cruel world.
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"Anastasia, I am truly sorry. I had gotten carried away and…"
"William, I've been listening to you blather on with apologies for the last ten minutes or so. Any more apologizing and I will have to punch you just to get you to keep quiet."
Will sighed as he wrapped the cloth along her arm slowly, tying it in a little knot at the end, and suddenly old memories swarmed into his head…memories he would rather not remember…
"What kind of man would give his life for a ship?" Elizabeth asked huffily, wrapping her hand with frustrated, jerky movements.
"A pirate," Will answered, "Here…let me." He took her hand and she mumbled her thanks, wishing she had never gotten them in this mess in the first place. And it had all started with one measly coin.
"You gave them my name as yours…why?" Will questioned, raising his innocent brown eyes to hers, waiting silently for an answer.
"I don't know," she shrugged with a particularly perplexed smile. Her breath caught as his fingers rubbed across the wound and pulled her hand out of his grasp.
"I'm sorry…blacksmith's hands. I know they're rough," Will apologized, taking her hand again more carefully, gently caressing.
"No…I mean…yes, they're rough, but…don't stop…"
Will glanced up into Ana's eyes, knowing she had noticed a change in his mood.
"Thinking about her, I presume?" she asked with raised eyebrows.
"And why do you think that?" he asked back, motioning for her to move her arm and see if the bandages were too tight.
She did so, rolling her shoulder as she replied, "You get this far-off, glazed stare. And you have this sadness about your eyes. You shouldn't have to look like that, Will. The past is the past."
Will smiled and leaned back in his chair, running a hand across his face. "You of all people have been the only one who has tried to give me advice, despite my protests, and has actually made me feel the slightest bit better."
Anastasia didn't know what to say to that. A thank you? An I-told-you-so? She stuck with silence instead.
"You have helped me in more ways than you know. Do you care that much, Anastasia? Even after all that I've put you through?"
Still silent.
He grinned, recalling one of his favorite memories: "I remember sitting in the tavern during my birthday after Elizabeth's death…and you setting that little cake in front of me and making the whole tavern sing to me."
"Why not celebrate in style?" she asked with a wink. Suddenly, she froze when she felt his hand skim down her bandaged arm thoughtfully. Glancing up, her eyes widened when she found that smile wiped off of his face and he was staring intently upon her.
She opened her mouth to say something but he pressed a few fingers to her lips, shushing her, and ran a finger down the side of her face. Before she could stop herself, she began to lean into him, eyes fluttering closed.
Then the door burst open.
"You all right, Ana, me dear?" June asked, completely oblivious to the tension that had been produced moments before, "Did this brute hurt ye?"
They had jumped apart so fast, the table next to them had rattled ominously.
Christ, I'm going to tear her limb from limb… "You sure have a way of entering conversations that you were not involved in previously," Ana growled.
"What can I say?" June asked with a shrug. She picked up an apple, polished it on her sleeve, and took a bite. "I was getting a grumbling stomach so I decided I needed a lil' snack. Sorry to interrupt…whatever I was interruptin'."
"No, it's completely fine, June," Will said hastily, standing up, "I best be getting above to see if they need me." And then he fled.
"Dammit, June!" Ana cried, looking ready to strangle her, "I was this close, this close to kissing him!"
"Kissing who?" June blinked.
"Are you bloody drunk?"
"I wouldn't be surprised if I was, darling."
"I almost kissed…" her voice fell barely above a whisper, "Mister Turner! For goodness sakes…who else is there on this ship that I'd want to kiss?"
"Mr. Gibbs is a handsome man," June pointed out with a foolish grin, "Perhaps you've had your eye on him for quite some time and haven't told me about your dirty lil' fantasies."
"June, am I lettin' ye stay on this ship to eat everythin' on board?" Jack said in exasperation from behind.
She turned, seeing Jack and a very flustered Mr. Gibbs standing in the doorway. Apparently he had heard her talking about him.
"Hello Jack…Mr. Gibbs." At the word Gibbs, she winked at him lewdly, pursing her lips and blowing him a kiss.
"Oh Jesus," Jack groaned, rolling his eyes heavenward.
"I…erm…hello Miss Oleander," Gibbs stammered, looking utterly frightened. He shuffled his feet uncomfortably.
June met Jack's glare and sighed, "Oh all right. Fine. I'll be above if anyone needs me." She bent over, opened one of the pockets in Jack's trousers, and placed her half-eaten apple in it. Then she turned and pressed a loud, sloppy kiss to Gibbs's cheek before making her way up the stairs, singing to herself:
The captain of that lugger
He was a dirty bugger
He wasn't fit to shovel shit
From one place to another.
Ana winced at the foul language coming from her odd friend's mouth. Jack looked positively irritated, and Gibbs was still red in the face as June hollered at the top of her lungs while climbing the last of the stairs…
Frigging in the rigging
Frigging in the rigging
Frigging in the rigging
There was fuck-all else to do!
"If somehow that song's directed at me, I'm goin' to flog her personally," Jack said with a shake of her head. Then he frowned. Wait…I already did that…and it resulted in rather interesting consequences.
"That woman is bad luck," Mr. Gibbs said angrily, "Ye don't understand, Jack…I've been tryin' to get along wit' her, but she keeps pattin' me bum when she walks by or is blowin' me kisses. It's scarin' the hell out o' me."
"Let's maroon her," Jack suggested, tapping a finger to his chin thoughtfully.
"As much as I'd like to agree, Captain, it wouldn't be right wit' the code and all…" Gibbs grumbled, "The men who made the code would be writhin' in their graves and such…"
"O' course I bet those fine souls would be willin' to make an exception for a hellcat like Oleander."
"Patience," Anastasia said to them, "It takes patience."
"We ran out o' that a long time ago," Jack pointed out, rubbing his temple.
"Jack, it seems to me you have all the patience in the world," she responded lightly, clutching her aching arm, "For the way you talk of her, she would have been dead a long time ago." With that, Ana stood up and made her way above as well.
Jack glared up the stairs after her, not liking how she had put it that way. Was Jack Sparrow…
…turning soft?
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June murmured, tossing and turning on her cot. Faintly, she heard whispering through the haziness of sleep and bolted upright in bed, making a grab for the map tucked in her shirt. It was safe. Letting out a sigh of relief, she turned and almost cried out in fright when she came face to face with Ana.
"What the hell are you doing, you crazy chit?!" June growled, rubbing her eyes slowly, "You scared the livin' daylights out o' me!"
"Jack says we are taking an unexpected detour."
"Ugh…" June groaned, "What time is it?"
"Six in the morning."
Detour? Oh no. He hadn't figured out where the map led to, did he? How could he? Well, Jack Sparrow always had his ways…
"Where are we headin'?" June asked frantically.
"His house. We should be landing there by nightfall."
Any evidence of sleep vanished from June's expression. His house?
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Captain Jack Sparrow has a house? Oh boy! Review please and I shall forever be grateful. : )
Oh, and that song June sang is an actual shanty called "Frigging in the Rigging". When I saw the lyrics, I was like "Yup. Something June would sing."
