A becoming but mysterious woman watches over none but Captain Jack Sparrow.
Note: This is rated R for a reason. This story contains strong language, sexual situations, and other strong content. If you can't handle the heat, well, I suggest you don't read this.
"The mysterious is always attractive. People will always follow a vail."
Dark and gorgeous, I was told. Thankfully, you do not find many men with that description here in Tortuga.
This is the third tavern I've been to tonight, and I better find said gorgeous pirate here in the Faithful Bride, or I'm just going to tell Chester that he never showed up.
It's crowded, as usual, with drunk men towering over their big-breasted women and full tankards of whiskey. The scent in the air stinks of urine and sea water, and I have to try my hardest to keep from breathing too much of the stench in. The bar man, complete with grizzly beard and damp clothing, is busy between serving drinks and barking orders at the barmaids.
My attention is suddenly captured from the disgusting sight as a warm hand gingerly brushes my side.
"Pardon me, Miss."
I turn to see a man with stunning features and dark penetrating eyes. I'm so caught off guard that I forget my very important assignment, and almost loose my composure as well.
"No," I reply, so sure as to what he has in mind. Handsome or not, I am not that easily thrown off my path, or in this case, thrown into bed.
"Ye don't even know what I was gonna say." He points out.
But I know exactly what I'm going to say. "No," I repeat, this time flashing him a cunning smile.
Men do not like a woman who is outspoken and confident to boot. But with the shine in this man's eyes, I know he is not like the others.
"I don't offer any services. But I'm sure there are other women in there who do." I tell him, gesturing inside the Faithful Bride for good measure.
But he only moves closer, and leads me away from the door and outside to the front path. "That's obvious," he says, those deep chocolate eyes scanning me over from head to toe.
I don't mind, and I grin in response. "Which part?"
"That you're not a common whore, love."
Damn straight! But I'm feeling dangerously flirtatious tonight. Half heartedly, I question, "Why do you say that?"
"Because you're playing hard to get. Those girls only care about one thing: getting paid."
I don't say anything, just glance at the passing people in search for my next charge.
"You're wearing nothin' but red and black," the man randomly points out after a moment of my ignoring him, "Are you in mourning?"
There's something that tells me he already knows the answer to his question. "No."
"No," he agrees, "I didn't think so."
I don't know what it is about him... maybe it is the refreshing rebellious look about him, or his masculine scent, but I'm not throwing him aside like I do the others that stoop to his level. Why is that?
"What's your name, darling?"
I hesitate a moment before telling him. "Andie Bryant."
"Interesting name," his fingertips reach up to touch my cheek, but I step back immediately. What does this guy think he's doing?
"Captain Sparrow!" A man from behind him quickly darts over to us and pulls Mr. Handsome aside.
That's when I realize... I know that name! "Jack Sparrow?"
I get his attention once again, and he waltzes over to me once more. "Look, love, sorry to disappoint, but I'm needed somewhere. Tis kind of an emergency."
"Who are you disappointing?"
Captain Jack Sparrow grins, obviously loving a girl who treats him badly. A challenge.
"Until we meet again, Miss Bryant." He bends and takes my hand, never tearing his eyes away from mine as he caresses the flesh with a kiss. I feel as though he is seeing my insides.
Without another word, he and the interrupting man start toward the far off alley, close to the outskirts of town life. The exact alley I was ordered to keep him away from!
Thinking quickly, I pick up my deep red skirts and follow them, quietly and purposefully avoiding Jack Sparrow. Paranoid, or perhaps just smart, I pull a pistol from my boot in self defense.
I keep to the shadows, but watch the scene before me carefully. Four men who had entered the alley sometime before me meet Jack in the center, but spread out as though to block every possible exit. This meeting obviously wasn't meant to be a pleasant one.
I cannot hear what they are saying, for they are speaking quietly, but I can see Jack and his reaction. He is not fazed by seeing these men at all, just as he had been somehow expecting them.
One man with sandy blonde hair, Caucasian skin and a long scar along his cheek, pulls out a threatening pistol, but Jack still does not make a move.
"What the hell is he waiting for?" I whisper.
There's a sudden growl coming from close quarters, and I look up to see one of the men has finally noticed I'm here, which is good, because I was starting to grow a bit antsy.
I almost cheer when Jack unsheathes his sword and begins waging in a duel with a man on his right. This gives me the OK to involve myself.
My heart races as the man closest to me reaches out, grabbing me by the hair. A quick pain runs to the tips of my toes before I set a hefty punch to his nose. The moment he steps back, he also receives a swift kick to his jaw. With a painful grunt from him, my pistol smashes up beside his large skull, and opponent-number-one falls to the ground, unconscious.
The next man, brown hair and blue eyed, charges at me, but only for my boot to connect with his dirty face not long after.
"Eager, are we?" Jack asks, also noting my attendance as well. He's still engaged with his first opponent, which annoys me greatly. So he's one of those fighters...
I duck as my new man swings at me again, but my fist in the only one that connects with bone. The man leans back, dazed and cursing for a dizzy moment or two.
"We need to talk." I tell Jack. I hit my opponent once again, as hard as I can, and sending his world into a black oblivion. He collapses at my feet. "Christ, Sparrow, how long does it take you to throw someone off?"
Jack hits his man in the side of the head with the gold hilt of his sword, incredibly easy, knocking the poor bastard out cold, and without ever taking his eyes from me. "That long," he declares, "I was just enjoyin' in watching ye fight."
Before I can respond, I am attacked from behind, my pistol being dropped from my hand to Jack's feet. "Dammit," I growl, fighting this last opponent for control. When finally I get him below me, Jack Sparrow tosses me my gun. But the moment it's in my palm, I'm thrown back under the bloke's heavy weight, and he challenges my dominance. I'm not surprised when the bullet is buried in his chest and I am panting underneath his bulk.
"I was hoping I wouldn't have to use this," I tell the carcass, before dropping the weapon down beside me and shoving the body away.
"Ye could of called for me help, ye know." My new charge tells me, taking my hand and helping me up from the ground.
"Why? I didn't need your help."
"Where'd ye learn to fight like that, anyway?" Jack asks.
I smile, planning to fill him in on quite a bit of information. "Buy me a drink?"
I sit in the Faithful Bride tavern, across from Captain Sparrow, who is currently wavering his eyes suspiciously between my own and my bust.
I raise my boot and drill him sharply in the shin, which thankfully pulls him back to reality. "I don't appreciate that," I say, glaring with hazel eyes.
"Apologies, love," the pirate replies. A thoughtful look crosses his face for a moment and then he looks at me, "What were ye saying?"
I groan loudly, more than frustrated. So far, none of this seems worth it. "You know what? I quit! Chester can look after you himself, or he can let you die for all I care!" I get up from my chair, but just as I turn to leave, a strong grip on my arm stops me.
"Hey, I'm not all that bad, am I? I did buy ye a drink after all, just as ye requested." Jack pushes me back into my seat and then sobers up, trying to act very interested in what I'm about to tell him.
"Something is coming," I say cryptically, "Or maybe someone. We don't know yet. But what we do know is that it's after you. I have to be there when that happens, so I can stop it."
I'm always afraid that people will think I'm mad, I'm insane, or simply playing a joke on them. And I don't know, maybe I am crazy, and these past three years have all been a hallucination, or even a prank on me.
Jack observes my face for a long moment. "You're serious," he realizes.
I don't say anything. What does he want me to say? Of course I am serious! I would never kid about such a thing.
"Who are ye?"
My brow furrows. "I told you who I am."
"Not some false identity, Andie. Who are ye? The name is not important, but if ye know all of this, you're not just a simple Tortuga girl, are ye?"
"No." I take a breath, "I'm not. But I can't tell you everything. Surely you understand that?"
My name is Andie Bryant. It's not my real name of course, just as he had suspected .No one knows my real identity. I didn't change it because it was dreadful, or anything of that sort. It was actually a very becoming name. Sometimes I even feel bad for changing it.
I work for a man named Chester Warhol. He's a very interesting fellow. Chester is very sarcastic, but strangely uplifting. He can never sit still but he is the most intelligent man I have ever known.
Chester can read things. Not very exciting if you haven't seen with your own eyes just how many different cultures he knows by heart, and how many languages the man can understand. He's a genius, especially for only thirty-two years of age.
A month ago Chester was sent a vital letter by a friend of his in England. We were in Spain at the time, but Benjamin still had a way of finding us. The letter told us of a sight one of his girls had. Benjamin works with some strange people, with strange talents that I cannot explain. It read that this woman had saw the pirate Jack Sparrow in an alley, and something else the young lass was unaware of. It said we would find him in Tortuga, Jamaica.
The next thing I know, I am here with a handsome criminal, and I couldn't be anymore unsure of myself or the situation. Not just because of the vague details, but because of my charge in general. He's unpredictable, and he brings out my wildest side. Which is not always the best, mind you.
"So, we'll be spending quite a bit of time together, aye?" Jack looks happy about this, which honestly makes me a bit nervous.
"I suppose so, yes."
The pirate grins. "It's gonna be a pleasure getting to know ye, Andie Bryant," he tells me.
"You're not getting me into bed, Sparrow." No matter how dashing you may be...
"We'll see about that," he replies, sounding so sure of himself, but yet so deep in thought.
The two of us bask in comfortable silence for a few moments, drinking our rum and glancing over each other approvingly.
"So how's it feel to be the famous Jack Sparrow?" I ask him.
He grins, gold teeth flashing and all. "Ye have no idea, love."