Disclaimer: Hello, all! I am on Disney's most wanted list, for I have stolen Jack Sparrow for the day. Well, not really. I lied.

Author's Notes:

To all my reviewers, I want to give you a big hug. (gives you a big hug) I have even made up a song for all of you:

Reviewers rock! Doodee doo doo I have a sock! Doodee doo doo

Uh, yeah. That's all I have so far. Anyways, when we last left off, Jack Sparrow was giving Belle all the harsh chores to do aboard the Black Pearl. Will Belle be able to tolerate the hard labor? Read on, mateys!

PineAppleLint


Belle felt like a jellyfish that had been beaten senseless and placed into a sack of raw eggs. If she said this aloud, no doubt some bloke on the Pearl would call her a madwoman, but there was simply no other way to describe the way she ached.

Jack Sparrow had indeed kept her hands full, and she did every single job without fuss. Belle desperately wanted to be accepted as a crewmember, but the looks everyone kept tossing her way and the murmurs that reached her ears was enough to make her a bit uncomfortable. She was indeed out of place upon the Black Pearl, for the high toned and fancy daughter of one of the most respected men in Port Royal looked quite ridiculous scrubbing away at the deck, her clothing ruined and ripped, dirt smudging her cheeks and bits of her hair coming loose and falling over her eyelashes.

"Had enuff, luv?" Captain Sparrow had asked her, grinning at her state of distress.

"Of course not, Sparrow. I have got to earn my keep," she grunted as she began to scrub the wooden boards even harder.

"You are going ta be in pain, tonight, I assure ye that much," Sparrow said and winked, turned around, his arms flailing about and he swaggered off, but whirled to face her for an instant and added, "Oh, and I want our supper on the table by eight. The dinner hall should get a scrub down, too, I wager."

Belle grumbled and Jack let out a low chuckle as he made his way towards the helm, leaving her to go about her business. She stood up and immediately almost fell over. Her white baggy shirt was caught on one of the rough wooden planks on the deck.

"Havin' a bit o' trouble, Miss Priss?" Ana Maria asked her sarcastically as Belle tried to pry it loose.

Belle glared at her and hissed, "My name is Belle. That will be Miss Blake to the likes of you, Ana Maria!"

Ana Maria smiled and leaned over, examining her pail of water. "Tis dirty," she replied, "Ye won't want to clean da deck with dirty water, now would ye?" and instantly kicked the pail over, the water sloshing out and rivulets cascading down the wooden beams.

"You'll pay for that," Belle threatened as Ana Maria laughed and went to the helm to talk to the dear captain. Belle yanked her arm back and with one big tug, ripped it free. She sighed and examined the damage done to her shirt. The arm part had been torn off, so it showed her pale freckled shoulder. She instantly ripped the other one to even it out, and ended up with a short sleeved white shirt. She walked and began to refill her pail, getting a splinter in her bare foot. She let out a hiss and examined her foot. In some ways life on the sea was like walking around in bare feet. You enjoyed the freedom, but with it came splinters.


"Dinner is served," she said in a tired tone as she set down various vegetables, meats, and fish down at the table. The food was heaped high, and there was enough for the entire hungry Black Pearl crew and enough for a bit of leftovers.

The crew gathered round, salivating at the aromas it produced. They sat in the creaky wooden chairs and the ship swayed gently side to side in the current. Belle lit a few candles so they could actually see their plates, and she found Jack already digging into the slabs of chicken.

"Ahem," she said, clearing her throat and narrowing her eyes at him.

He looked up, a chicken leg partly dangling from his mouth and he mumbled, "What is it, luv?"

"Shouldn't we say a prayer?" Belle asked.

Jack stared at her as if she were sprouting wings and singing opera.

"And," she added evilly, "I believe the captain should lead us in prayer."

Ana Maria snickered and the crew's attention turned to him, staring with amusement.

Jack growled something and nodded his head, staring down at his plate. "Thank ye, Lord, for the grub and whatnot, and especially the rum. Amen."

"Aye, Amen!" the crew said and began to pass the food around, taking heaping spoonfuls. Jack took a drink of his mug and immediately made a funny face.

"What the hell is this?" he asked, staring into his cup.

She wiped the sweat from her forehead and replied, "Water, Captain Sparrow. Tis water. Have you forgotten what that tastes like? I think the rum has scattered your brain."

"No supper is complete without rum!" he roared, sitting up in his seat and staring at her defiantly.

"You drink it, or I shall toss the bottles of rum you have left overboard," she threatened. Belle saw his ring clad fingers twitch over his pistol and she grinned. Belle was managing to get on his nerves, which suited her just fine. He had put her through enough that day. He began digging into his meat once more and she walked over and placed a heaping spoonful of steamed vegetables onto his plate.

"Dammit, what are you doing?" he cried and stared up at her.

"Hasn't your mother ever told you to eat more vegetables?" she questioned sweetly, "Eat up, Jack. They are mmm mmm good for you!"

Ana Maria snickered once more and Belle turned to her and added, "You too, Ana Maria. You look a bit withered around the edges. Vegetables will do you good." Ana Maria scowled at her.

"Insult me again and I'll force feed you vegetables until ye heave," she snarled.

"Such a big threat for a woman who does not eat healthy," Belle said with a smile, "Now eat your vegetables."

Ana Maria growled and Jack said harshly, "Pipe down, Ana Maria. Belle, stop baiting her. I've had about enuff from both of ye!"

"Enjoy, gentlemen and milady, oh, no...I forgot. You all are savages. Nevermind. Enjoy anyway!"

When Belle left and shut the dining hall door, she could hear curses and fierce muttering coming from inside. She grinned and went to Jack's cabin and began rummaging through the clothes that were left on his bed. They were in desperate need of mending.

Belle managed to find a spare needle and thread in Jack Sparrow's desk drawers, then took the clothes and sat next to the helm, sitting cross legged and draping the clothes over her thighs, using the moonlight to help her see what she was doing. She worked quietly and busily, not breaking her concentration for a second. Belle knew it wasn't a good idea to bait the crew, for they were all she had at the moment, but she had enough of the rudeness and whispers behind her back that she had to put up with throughout the day.

She came across one of Jack's shirts and examined the many holes. How one man could mess up his clothes so much, she would never know. A bumbling fool like Sparrow could manage it easily, she thought. Belle lifted the shirt and she smelled the aroma that came off of the clothing. It was the smell of Jack Sparrow. Masculine, with the salt from the sea spray and from hard earned sweat. She found it exhilarating, and the cloth brushed her nose, causing her to sneeze.

"Excuse you," Sparrow remarked from behind her and she jumped at the sound of his voice.

"What do you want now, Sparrow?" she said, not bothering to look up at him.

"I don't find it common to see pretty lasses smelling my clothing," Jack remarked and ran his hands along the helm, looking up at the starry night sky.

She turned scarlet and said, appalled, "I was not!"

"Whatever ye say, luv. Nice night, isn't it? I was expectin' a bit o' fog, but it's as clear as glass."

"It's beautiful," she murmured, "Working out here always has its advantages."

"So, Miss Blake," he replied, "Do ye want to go home yet? Run back to yer rich life where everythin' is handed to you on a silver tray?"

"Hardly, Captain," she said, growing angry, "Who do you think you are, implying that I am a spoiled rich girl that has no adventurous life whatsoever?"

"It is true, aye?" Sparrow said, his eyes gleaming, "I am an honest man."

"Now I do not believe that," Belle muttered, beginning to work on his shirt once more.

He leaned in close and said, "How about ye come to my cabin and try out a bit of me imported rum?"

She was so surprised she pricked her finger on the needle, immediately bringing it to her lips and sucking on the wound.

"I do not believe I shall take you up on that offer, Sparrow," she seethed, "For you are a mangy scabberous dog, and I know that once you intoxicate me with alcohol you shall try to make me look like a fool."

"Captain Jack Sparrow doesn't have to use alcohol in order to intoxicate a woman, luv," he answered with a wink.

"You are so full of yourself!" she growled, and his eyes widened a bit in surprise as she stood up and pointed a finger in his face. "If you had to live one day as a rich man, you would not be able to last three minutes. My father helps govern Port Royal..."

"But he is not yer father, luv," he interrupted.

Belle stood there, mouth agape, blinking.

"You are without a doubt a rich snob, and it's a pity that ye fell into the hands of some rich bloke, for those land lovers spoiled ye rotten. You will never be a real pirate, Miss Blake, for yer old life will tarnish yer new one," Sparrow said matter-of-factly, his fingers moving rhythmically with his words.

"Do not judge me, Jack," she said angrily, "For today I have worked harder than anyone else on this damn ship!"

"That was one day, luv," he replied, "What about a week from now? A month? Ye shall wither away and dream of going back to yer lace and pearls once more."

"I will last," she growled, "Mark my words."

"So enlighten me, luv. Do ye know how to steer a ship? Man the braces? Disable a rudder chain? Pickpocket without mercy?"

"I...I shall learn in due time," she said, her voice faltering.

Sparrow began to chuckle, at her funny determination and her face filled with rage. "Finish those clothes, Belle. I want them clean and fresh by mornin'," he said and walked to his cabin, whistling to himself.

"Sure, I'll have them clean and fresh," Belle said furiously and picked up his shirt, waited until he entered his quarters and locked the door, then tore it to smithereens.


The next morning, the sky was gray and ominous. She pulled on her breeches, suppressed a yawn, and then made her way out onto the top deck. Mr. Gibbs caught sight of her and gave her a worried look, then hustled over to where she was standing.

"Mister Gibbs! What is wrong? You look like something is troubling you."

"Are ye mad, woman?" he wheezed, "By dawn, the 'hole crew found out what ye did to Sparrow!"

"What? Oh! You mean ruining all of his clothes?" Belle asked with a grin.

"He is goin' to get back at you, missy," Gibbs warned, "I don't doubt that for an instant."

"Then tell him to give it his best shot," Belle said with a cheery smile.

"Has the devil possessed you?" Gibbs asked, looking suspicious. Belle tried not to laugh, reminding herself that Gibbs was a very superstitious man.

"Of course not, Mister Gibbs. But I may have a devilish way about me," she commented and winked at him. Gibbs then looked a bit frightened and backed away slowly just as Jack Sparrow managed to storm up to her, looking pissed to the core.

"Hullo, Jack!" she said in a fake pirate accent, "How are ye doin' on this lovely day? Arghhh, matey!"

Jack grabbed the back of her neck and whispered into her ear with fury, "You and I need to talk. In my cabin. Now."

Before Belle could answer he was dragging her by the arm in the direction of his quarters.

"I just want to remind you that I do not like violence," she said lightly and he grunted in frustration, yanking her into his room and slamming the door shut.

"What the HELL is this?" Jack Sparrow shouted, pointing at the pile of his clothes that were ripped to shreds, almost as if someone went crazy with a machete.

"I was being creative?" Belle guessed, which caused his face to turn almost a cherry color, and he grabbed his pistol, his muscles jerking with the urge to shoot her.

"You are a bigger temptation then ye think you are, Belle," he growled.

"Oh really?" she said seductively, batting her eyelashes, "I think I already proved that when we were at Port Royal." She raised a hand to her head and gasped in mock desperation, "You just love the feel of my skin, Sparrow! You yearn for the touch of my lips! I knew it!"

The room was silent, eerily silent. The room was thick with it, and she opened her eyes to see Sparrow's reaction. Belle gaped at what she found, almost passing out from shock.

There was Sparrow, watching her, busily pulling off his shirt, giving her a view of tanned muscle from hard work under the sun, and scattered tattoos amongst his arms.

"What are you doing?" she whispered.

He grinned evilly and threw the shirt to the floor, staring into her wide eyes.

"I, luv," he said, "Am going to show ye just how much I yearn for yer touch. Savvy?"


Woowoo! (starts doing the Yay-Jack-Sparrow-Is-Half-Naked Dance) Evil cliffhangers rule! So remember to review, and when you do, you instantly get a free compass that doesn't point North! (winks)