Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or plotlines of "Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl." If I did, I wouldn't be sitting here writing fanfiction; I'd be off making money. Which I am not doing with this work. I do, however, lay claim to the characters of Genesis Wolfe and Rosalyn O'Brien, and would be pleased as punch if you did not use them without my permission. Thank you, darlings.
Author's Note: Aww, the girls are separated again! So soon? Say it ain't so! Well, I suppose we'll have to wait for yet another reunion. And, for all of those more aural readers out there, the song that Rosalyn irritates Jack and Elizabeth with in this chapter is called "Captain Jack" by…Captain Jack. Most people know it from Dance Dance Revolution. Give it a listen; you'll see why it drives Jack and Liz utterly insane, especially when sung by a somewhat tone deaf, hyperactive redhead.
Chapter 16: In Which Roz Bonds With Captain Morgan…And Hates Him Later
Roz broke through the water's surface for a split second, gasping for air, before the soaked cotton skirts of that damn ugly dress began to weigh her down, dragging her back underwater. She kicked as hard as she could, arms clawing at the light above her, to no avail. She grunted, reaching back and grasping either side of the bodice, she wrenched the fabric apart, sending buttons flying before they stilled and began their slow descent downward. After ripping away at a few more buttons, she managed to slip her arms out of the sleeves, and pushed the dress down and over her hips, wriggling free of the petticoats in the process. Her lungs ached as she sped to the surface. She broke through, gulping down the salty air before looking around for her bearings. Jack and Elizabeth were already ahead of her, swimming toward the island, so she kicked off her soft blue slippers and swam after them.
When she was able to touch the bottom, Jack was already slipping his hands free of his loosened bindings, staring at the retreating ship with an empty look that made Rosalyn's heart twist slightly with pity. "That's the second time I've had to watch that man sail away with my ship."
He paused, one dark eyebrow shooting up into his bandana, following Roz with his eyes as she crawled through the calf-deep water in nothing but her bloomers and corset. Once she reached the dry sand, she flopped down with a burst of exhaled breath, remained still for a moment, then reeled upward suddenly, her entire wet face now coated with a layer of pristine white sand.
"You must be Rosalyn," Jack said flatly as she sputtered, trying to wipe away the offending sand.
Roz glared at him, eyeing him up and down. "And this must be hell." Her face turned to a look of amazement. "We just swam a quarter mile through the ocean, and you're still dirty. How do you do it?"
"Rosalyn, all right," he muttered. "I see you two share that infinite blade-sharp wit."
Elizabeth looked confused as she busied herself with wringing out her long hair. "'You two?'"
"Our lovely little redhead here and the notorious Genesis Morgan," Jack replied emphatically. Elizabeth's eyes widened as she looked at Rosalyn.
"You're in league with that…that…pirate?"
Jack pulled a face, glancing at Elizabeth with a mildly offended look.
"No," Roz said thoughtfully. "It's more like, she gets herself ass-deep in trouble, and drags me down with her for moral support and comedic sidekickery."
Elizabeth, ever the lady, gasped at Rosalyn's cursing, while Jack merely shrugged. "Sounds enough like her."
Roz crawled down to the water's edge, splashing her face with water to rinse off the sand as Jack sat down to dry out his pistol. Elizabeth frowned and took off, apparently off for a bit of sightseeing, and Roz simply stared off into the horizon in uncharacteristic silence.
It didn't take long for Elizabeth to return, a somewhat dejected look on her face as she stared off at her own footprints trailing off before her.
"It's really not all that big, is it?" Jack said, eyeing his nearly-dry pistol.
"Nope," Roz said, looking at a rather obscene direction on his anatomy. She looked up suddenly, glancing at his face, then Elizabeth, then the footprints. "Oh, you mean the island."
Jack gaped at her, clearly insulted, while Elizabeth looked at him with a somewhat irritated look. "If you're going to shoot me, please do so without delay," she said matter-of-factly.
"You think that you'd be the first person I'd off on this bloody island?" he said, jerking his head toward Roz. He then considered Elizabeth for a moment, then leaned forward casually, leaning his elbows on his knees. "Is there a problem between us, Miss Swann?"
"You were going to tell Barbossa about Will in exchange for a ship," Elizabeth snarled.
"We could use a ship!" Jack pointed out.
"More than we could use a Will, really," Roz added.
"Fact is," Jack said. "I was not going to tell Barbossa about bloody Will in exchange for a ship, because as long as he didn't know about bloody Will, I had something to bargain with. Which now, no one has, thanks to bloody stupid Will." He stood up angrily, clearly (and rightfully) frustrated by the entire thing.
Elizabeth looked down, able to say only one thing:
"Oh."
"Oh," Jack repeated bitterly.
Elizabeth looked up, indignant. "He still risked his life to save ours."
Jack's eyes widened, and he barked out a rather uncaring, disbelieving laugh and began to stumble off through the hot sand. Elizabeth gave chase.
"Well, we have to do something to rescue him!"
Jack stopped and waved her away. "Of you go, then, let me know how that turns out," he said, and began walking toward the center of the island. Elizabeth began to follow him, so Roz jumped up as well, following Jack as he began counting paces. A song popped into her head, which she began to sing.
"Running to the railroad track, run along with Captain Jack…"
"You were marooned on this island before, weren't you?," Elizabeth said, both of them throwing a strange look Rosalyn's way. "So we can escape in the same way you did then."
"To what point and purpose, young missy?" Jack asked, suddenly spinning on his heel. Elizabeth stopped in her tracks, causing Roz to stumble into her back. "The Black Pearl is gone, and unless you have a rudder and a lot of sails hidden in that bodice…unlikely…young Mister Turner will be dead long before you can reach him."
"Wow," Roz said. "Cheery. So, Jack, where's the rum?"
"It's Captain Spa--" He paused. "How'd you know about the rum?"
Roz gave Elizabeth a "please, explain," look.
"Oh," Elizabeth said flippantly. "Rosalyn is psychic."
Jack looked at Roz, who made a Mentok the Mindtaker hand gesture and a quiet "byoooo-EEEEEE-oooo."
"Psychic," he said. It was more a statement of disbelief than a question.
"Keep your eye on the rum," Roz said cryptically. Jack scowled, and she mock-bowed, extending an arm as an invitation for him to proceed.
"But you're Captain Jack Sparrow," Elizabeth began to protest as Jack moved on, clearly taking back up the argument Rosalyn's apparent alcoholism had interrupted. "You vanished from under the eyes of seven agents of the East India Company…"
Roz had started up her song again.
"Give me a bottle in my hand…"
"You sacked Nassau Port without even firing a single shot…"
"…I wanna be a drunken man…"
Jack glared at them both as he put his ear to a tree trunk, rapping his knuckles against it. He turned, glancing at the sun's position, and began taking very large, exaggerated steps away from the tree. Elizabeth and Rosalyn followed.
"Are you the pirate I've read about or not? How --"
"Gooooooo left, go right, go pick up the step, go left, go right, go --"
"Would you just bloody shut up?!" Elizabeth yelled, whirling on Rosalyn, who nearly fell backward.
"Thank you," Jack breathed. He stopped walking, jumping up and down a few times. It was clear that it wasn't merely sand below his feet.
"As I was saying," Elizabeth said irritably. "How did you escape last time?"
"Last time," Jack said with a huff, clearly annoyed by the line of questioning, "I was here a grand total of three days, all right?"
"Last time," he opened a hidden cellar door, "the rumrunners used this island as a cache." He jumped down, disappearing into the cellar. "Came by, and I was able to barter a passage off."
Two hands appeared, holding three differently shaped bottles of amber-colored rum. Rosalyn reached down and grabbed two, sticking an arm out to him. He grabbed her wrist as she helped him out of the cellar.
"From the looks of things," he continued, glancing back at the cellar, "they've long been out of business. Probably have your bloody friend Norrington to thank for that."
"So that's it, then?" Elizabeth said in shock. "That's the secret grand adventure of the infamous Jack Sparrow? You spent three days lying on a beach, drinking rum?"
"Doesn't sound so bad to me," Roz said with a smirk. Jack grinned at her, glad to have someone on his wavelength, and he glanced at Elizabeth.
"Welcome to the Caribbean, love."
Roz grinned, raising her bottle to clink against his. "To 'secret grand adventures,'" she said, mimicking Elizabeth's noble accent.
Jack grinned, raising his voice girlishly to mock Elizabeth as well. "To 'lying on a beach, drinking rum.'" They clinked the bottles, uncorking them and taking a big swig. Roz choked at the strength of it, wheezing as her eyes watered. Jack merely laughed, offering his arm, which she took after she stopped her coughing fit, and they made their way toward the beach, Roz starting her song once again. Elizabeth sighed and followed, slipping around Jack once they reached the beach and making him come to a halt.
"So, is there any truth to the other stories?"
Jack froze, eyes dark. "Truth?"
He raised his right shirtsleeve, revealing the P-shaped brand, then his left, showing a series of mangled scars that stretched from his wrist to his bicep. He then pulled the collar of his shirt away, revealing two bullet wounds in his chest. Rosalyn and Elizabeth both gaped, while his eyes narrowed. "No truth at all."
He sat down in the sand, and Rosalyn was quick to follow. He looked out over the water. "We've still got about a month, maybe more," he said somewhat grimly. "Keep a weather eye open for passing ships and our chances are fair."
"And what about Will?" Elizabeth asked. "We have to do something."
Jack looked thoughtful. "You're absolutely right," he said, and dropped one of his bottles onto the sand, letting it roll to a stop at Elizabeth's feet. He raised his bottle to the sea. "Here's luck to you, Will Turner." Roz followed his lead, once again going into a bit of a wheezing fit, though this one was considerably less violent.
"Good stuff," she hissed, wiping her eyes.
Elizabeth, clearly being defeated in this argument, uncorked her bottle and plopped down on the other side of Jack. She looked at her bottle, muttering "drink up, me hearties, yo ho," before taking a swig with a grimace.
Jack frowned, and glanced at her curiously. "What was that, Elizabeth?"
"Clearly, the ramblings of a drunken madwoman," Roz offered.
"It's 'Miss Swann,'" she said irritatedly. Jack held his hands up in supplication, clearly not expecting an answer to his question. He was a bit surprised, clearly, when she went on.
"Nothing," she said a bit sadly. "It's a song I learned as a child when I actually thought it would be exciting to meet a pirate."
Jack shrugged. "Let's hear it."
"No."
"Come on," Jack retorted. "We've got the time. Let's have it."
"No!" Elizabeth said again. She paused. "I'd have to have a lot more to drink."
Jack watched her hands play with the neck of a bottle, and it seemed inspiration struck. "How much more?"
There was a moment of silence, and Rosalyn suddenly stood. "Off to the rum room. This year, Caribbean Idol is being sponsored by Bacardi."
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"We're devils and black sheep, really bad eggs, drink up, me 'earties, yo ho! Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me!"
It had started with innocent humming on Elizabeth's part. Rosalyn had picked up on the tune, and the result was a drunken, three-person choir, each voice horribly off-key, dancing (or, rather, stumbling) around a roaring bonfire.
"I love this song!" Jack said happily, swinging his arm out and slopping yet more rum onto the sand. He grabbed the nearest object, which happened to be Roz, and spun her around. "Really bad eggs! Ooh!"
He lost his footing, and Roz went down with him, resulting in a giggling pile of flailing limbs and more sloshed rum. They managed to untangle themselves for the most part, but Rosalyn's legs were still draped over his. Elizabeth plopped down next to him, and her legs became Roz's footrest.
"When I get the Pearl back," Jack said thoughtfully, "I'm gonna teach it to the whole crew, and we'll sing it all the time!"
"And you'll be positively the most fearsome pirate in the Spanish Main," Elizabeth breathed.
"Not just the Spanish Main, love," Jack said dramatically. "The entire ocean."
"The entire world," Roz corrected.
Jack patted her knee in a friendly manner. "You're not so bad, Miss Rosalyn," he said. "I might bring you along, when we get my Pearl." He looked out onto the ocean. "Wherever we want to go, we'll go. That's what a ship is, you know. It's not just a keel and a hull and a deck and sails. That's what a ship needs, but what a ship is…what the Black Pearl really is…is freedom."
Roz tilted her head as she listened to him. A smile tugged at her lips; Jack got all philosophical when he was drunk. She had the feeling it wasn't a side of Captain Jack Sparrow that was seen very often, and she felt strangely privileged.
She glanced at Elizabeth. The noblewoman looked bored, but snapped to attention with a look of wonder whenever Jack looked her way. Roz caught her eyes, and it was clear by the look on Elizabeth's face that she knew that the "psychic" was aware of her plan. Elizabeth sighed, leaning her pretty blonde head on Jack's shoulder.
"Jack," she said pitifully. "It must be really terrible for you to be trapped on this island."
Her act worked, as Jack wasn't the type of man to reject a woman's attentions. "Oh, yes," he said, clearing his throat and tentatively wrapped an arm about her slim shoulders. "But the company is infinitely better than last time." He glanced at Roz and slyly rested a hand slightly above her knee. "And the scenery has definitely improved."
"Mister Sparrow!" Elizabeth exclaimed, pushing him away. "I'm not entirely sure that I've had enough rum to allow that kind of talk."
Jack glanced at Roz, who held up her nearly-empty bottle. "Yeah," she said. "I probably have."
Jack nodded sagely, curling up the ends of his mustache. "I know exactly what you mean, loves."
Elizabeth, clearly uncomfortable with the situation, jerked her bottle into the air in a toast-like fashion. "To freedom."
Jack eyes her bottle and decided to rein in his seduction tactics. He raised his bottle. "To the Black Pearl."
Rosalyn raised her bottle as well. "To pirates."
"Aye," Jack said before bringing the bottle to his lips to drain it. Rosalyn and Elizabeth did as well, but Elizabeth lowered hers without drinking, watching Jack as he leaned back and promptly passed out. Elizabeth looked at Roz.
"You aren't going to try and stop me?"
"No point in it."
"Why not?"
"Well," Roz said. "For one, your little bonfire works in the long run."
"And secondly?"
"And secondly," Roz said, stumbling over the latter word slightly. "I'm drunk off my lily-white ass and could hardly walk a straight line, let alone stop you and your pyromania."
Elizabeth smiled a little. "So, what are you going to do?"
"I am going to sleep," Roz said, laying back in the sand. "Because I am sure to feel like hell in the morning, and I don't want to be awake for the rum-burning. I can't handle seeing all that alcohol go to waste. It's depressing."
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Jack awoke the next morning to the bright Caribbean sun and the telltale smell of alcohol burning.
You, dear readers, can guess which factor made his eyes snap open.
He sat up, moving much faster than usual, and spun to see half of the island in flames. Elizabeth was bustling about the inferno, throwing in more barrels and ducking down to avoid the debris from the resulting explosions.
"No!" he said, his voice cracking due to his abrupt wake-up call. "Not good!" He stood up shakily, moving to run to Elizabeth, but was thwarted by a log, which grunted as he fell over it. The log, otherwise known as Rosalyn, seemed to recoil from the bright sunlight with an inhuman screech, reaching for the nearest object (in this case, Jack's hat, which had tipped off his head when he leapt to his feet) and slamming it over her head. Not, however, before one hand shot out, punching wildly at Jack.
"Off, banshee!" he yelled, kicking at her flailing arm and scrambling to his feet.
"Stop!" he yelled at Elizabeth. "Not good!"
"Stop yelling!" came a hiss from under his hat.
"What are you doing?" he exclaimed upon reaching Elizabeth.
"She's not yelling, that's what!" snapped the hat before it moaned and wrapped its arms around its head. Jack ignored it.
"You burned all the food!" he said in shock. "The shade! The rum!"
"Yes," Elizabeth said triumphantly. "The rum is gone."
"Why is the rum gone?"
"One, because it is a vile drink that turns even the most respectable men into scoundrels," she said sternly. "Two, that signal is over a thousand feet high. The entire Royal Navy is out looking for me, do you really think that there is even the slightest chance that they won't see it?"
Silence.
"But why's the rum gone?"
Roz bolted upward. "Because she blew it all the bloody hell up!" she yelled. Her face suddenly paled, and she made a mad dash for the water's edge and emptied her stomach of last night's festivities.
Elizabeth sighed and plopped down in the sand, eyes on the ocean. "Just wait, Captain Sparrow," she said, jaw out stubbornly. "You give it one hour, maybe two, keep a weather eye out and then you will see white sails on that horizon."
Jack's temper flared for a moment and he fumbled with his pistol, aiming it at the back of Elizabeth's head. There was a sudden cry of "NOOOOO!" and a flash of red hair and white bloomers flying in front of Jack, completely missing the pistol the heroic leap was clearly intended for and ending up laying facedown in the sand at Jack's feet. Jack and Elizabeth turned to look at Roz, who simply muttered:
"Bastard."
Jack rolled his eyes, shoving the gun into his belt and beginning to storm off.
"Jack, wait!"
He turned to see Roz still facedown in the sand, but her head was slightly lifted. "Yes?"
"If you're going out, can you get me something at McDonald's?"
Jack, having no idea who McDonald was and being sure that whoever he was, he probably was not to be found on this island, turned on his heel and stormed off, curses streaming from his lips. Every once in a while his pitch would raise, a clear hint that his rant included imitations of one, if not both, of the women.
"Steak, egg and cheese bagel!" Rosalyn yelled after him. She felt a hand on her shoulder, and looked up to see Elizabeth holding a rum bottle filled with water and what looked like a scrap of fabric from her shift. She doused the scrap and pulled Rosalyn into a sitting position, blotting the cool rag on Roz's forehead.
"What are you doing?"
Elizabeth smiled. "My father likes his brandy," she said warmly. "I'm well accustomed to the 'morning after effect.'" She handed the bottle of water to Roz.
"Drink," she said sternly. "The alcohol and sun are going to dry you out like sand."
Rosalyn took a small sip, the cool water easing its way down her sandpaper throat. They sat together in silence for a moment, watching Jack's arms swing wildly in his tantrum. They saw him suddenly stop at the top of a hill, his shoulders dropping in defeat.
"What do you think that's all about?" Elizabeth asked.
Roz smiled. "Hello, Dauntless."
They both stood, trying to catch a glimpse of white sails. Jack had made his way back, muttering under his breath. Roz only caught a bit.
"Bloody women and their bloody Norrington's."