AN3/
Nothing is mine
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Marie awoke to the sound of seagulls and the salty smell of the sea air. She realized with a start that she was lying face-down on the sand and that something was poking her sharply in the butt. "Hey!" She wriggled away from the annoyance and flipped herself face-up. "What gives?" She glared up at a rough-looking man who was smirking at her, a sword in hand.
"Ahh, so yer alive then.?" He chuckled deep in his throat. "That's good."
She bit back the urge to stick out her tongue at him, but settled for a sarcastic remark. "Obviously." She rolled her eyes.
He gestured to the expanse of beach to where a large pile of unconcious bodies lay strewn about haphazardly. "Are those yer mates?" He asked. She nodded and jumped up, but all the blood rushed to her head and she nearly fell backwards. He caught her though, just in time. "Watch yerself, miss." He scooped her up and carried her towards her friends. "Wouldn't want a pretty girl like you hurtin' yerself."
"Put me down!" She commanded angrily. "I am *perfectly* capable of walking twenty feet by myself!"
He laughed again. "Ya nearly fell on yer arse! I would hardly call tha' capable." He shifted her weight a bit. "Besides, you weigh next to nothin'! What are ye? Kin to fairies or somethin'?" He turned his head so that he was able to look her right in the eye. His eyes were a dark, dark brown and they pulled you in with a hypnotic force. "Or mebbe a genie?" He whispered near her ear. "Because ya could certainly grant a wish or two o' mine."
Marie frowned. "If you're goinng to take the liberty of carrying me and making forceful innuendos, then you could at least tell me your name."
He smiled, lightening the color of his dark eyes considerably. "I'm captain Jack Sparrow, luv."