FicWad

I suppose when I had originally proposed a meeting with the Captain the eve before his departure, I did not realize what little window of time I had provided myself with. Over the course of many hours spent stewing in painful consciousness, as well as quite a troublesome sleep, I came to a decision.

As I entered the Faithful Bride, yet again alight with drunken tomfoolery and raucous laughter, I spied a dark man sitting at the bar. His gaze made the acquaintance of mine, and, unmistakably, it was Captain Jack Sparrow. I made my way to the drinkery, slid onto a stool, and ordered some whiskey.

"Whiskey is a merchant's drink, dearie, I do hope you've not decided to fight the good fight, eh?" his rich voice greeted.

"Greetings to you as well, Captain. In response to your inquiry, decidedly not," I retorted.

"Aye, that is indeed terrific news."

"And you? I suppose it's always rum for you, is it?"

"Like to keep to me roots, love," he replied, taking a sip from his bottle.

I took a swig of whiskey, deciding small chat was of little interest to me. "I've an answer to your proposal, Mr. Sparrow," I stated calmly.

"Oughtn't I assure you that it still stands?" he said playfully, leaning in. "It'd be a terrible trifle for you to embarrass yourself in front of all these respectable ladies and gents." He motioned to the men laughing and brawling, and the women drinking and flashing their goods to whoever would look.

"The greater portion of which by tomorrow morning will not even remember which way is up." He grinned, and I continued, "I do hope by your insinuation that you do not intend on retracting your offer, dear Captain, for the perks of having a pirate of my caliber on board would indeed be," I pressed yet closer to him, lowering my voice, "rewarding."

Now, do not be deceived. I am by no means a common whore, used to spreading out my physical attributes at the beck and call of anyone useful to me. I had no intention of going to bed with Jack Sparrow, captain of the Black Pearl or not. But it is at these times, when the possibility of one's employment hangs by the listless thread of another's personal vendetta that one must use all in one's powers to secure said position.

In short, it is to say that in the area of piracy, being a woman can be as much a setback as an advantage.

"I don't doubt that, darling." I noticed the crafty Captain's hand on my knee, groping ever so slightly. I made a resolution to remove it with as much force as possible as soon as I had acquired the post.

"In regards to the fact that your proposal is undoubtedly still valid," I paused, letting him chew on the possibility of rejection for a moment, before punctuating the statement with, "I wholeheartedly accept."

Jack Sparrow grinned the widest smirk I'd yet seen. "Peachy."

"That is to say, Captain, that I'd be no manner of refutable pirate if I did not inform you of both my strengths and my shortcomings." I felt his hand slither higher up my leg, keeping my voice calm and attempting to rush things along.

"I'm sure, given the circumstances, such obstacles can be overcome, savvy?" It was not difficult to peg Captain Jack Sparrow as a cad and a lecher, but I was determined to play by his rules, at least until the discussion was concluded. A respectable pirate knows when to dignify their position, but an intelligent pirate knows when to concede and place aside their self-importance, at least momentarily.

"I possess the skills to navigate, conduct canon fire, the savvy of swabbing, sweeping, and scrubbing, the ability to row, and do all manner of pre-requisite piratey things," I began, and he nodded. "However, I cannot fire a pistol and successfully hit a target with any amount of accuracy to save my life."

Sparrow seemed to consider this for awhile, sipping his rum and blinking repeatedly. In the meanwhile, his hand rested shamelessly high on leg, rubbing slow circles. Any moment now...

"I suppose that'll do, darling. And now, for my circumstances." He gave me a wicked look, and I somehow dreaded what was to be said next. There was a long, drawn out silence -I'm sure meant only to make me uncomfortable-, before, "Do you have the courage and fortitude to follow orders and stay true in the face of danger and almost certain death?"

I exhaled. It was the customary question for all new crewmembers. "Aye," I affirmed, knowing it was the only response acceptable. In all honesty, I had seen men walk the plank for daring to mutter "yes".

My newest Captain grinned, eyes sparkling with a combination of lust and boyish excitement. "Then I shall need to know your name."

Taking a deep breath, I was about to give it to him when a sloppy man reeking of bile and all manner of distasteful liquids slung an arm over me, reaching for my whiskey and finishing it off. I'm not a rash woman by nature, having become accustomed to faceless drunks attempting to woo me into their company, but I'd never come across one so bold as to steal my drink. There is little in this world that angers me to the point of useless violence, but the unfortunate fool had just struck a chord with one of my most infuriating annoyances.

"'Ow abou' I give ye a spin, eh, lassie?" he hiccupped. "Ye pro'lly dun cost much, 'eh? Not much to look at," he mumbled some more jabs at my dignity, giving me a generous amount of shameless once-overs before I had had enough. I took his arm off me and kicked him into a circle of men playing cards. The drunk hit the table, the cards flying everywhere. One of the players ceased this opportunity to peek the other's hand.

"Oy! Ye've got five fours!" The other man quickly shoved his cards into his jacket, attempting to look innocent. "Ye bloody cheater!" I didn't bother contemplating the irony that a man peeking at another man's hand would accuse him of being a cheat. In any case, the first player punched the cheating man in the jaw, who then flew into another patron, knocking his drink out of his hands. Soon, havoc broke loose as the tavern band began to play their traditional brawl song: a fast paced dosado.

Sparrow gave me a devilish grin. "Got your blade?"

I patted the grip, my sword nestled nicely in its sheathe. "Only a fool would walk into the Faithful Bride without one, Captain."

He withdrew his, dark eyes dancing. "Then let's see what ye've got!"

He rushed into the maelstrom of thrown punches, clashing swords, and discordant gunshots. I smiled, following suit, knowing it had been all too long since my sword had been out for a good swing. I unsheathed my blade, spying Sparrow taking on three men at once out of the corner of my eye. His style of fighting was very much like him: lively and accurate yet boastful and disorderly to the point of being arrogant. I had to give him credit; he handled the cutlass better than most pirates I'd seen.

I snapped back to reality when a man came barreling at me, waving a dagger about haphazardly. Ducking beneath the blade, I turned and shoved my elbow just below his ribcage, effectively knocking the wind from his lungs. I kicked out his left foot, throwing off his balance as he went tumbling headfirst into the bar. I turned just as another blade came down on me. Acting quickly, I blocked the downward strike before swinging my own blade in a circle, causing him to lose his grip, his sword flying out of his hands and gliding across the floor.

Shoving him aside, I fought my way to Captain Jack Sparrow, who was now effortlessly fending off two men with cutlasses. However, another, quite bulbous man was sneaking up behind him. The drunk raised his large, thick bottle of rum, and prepared to bring it down over Sparrow's head. Quickly, I placed my back to Jack's, delivering a swift kick to the large man's gut. He doubled over, and I took this moment to grab his bottle and finish off the contents before smashing it over his skull.

No sense in wasting good rum, I thought to myself.

As another man came swinging wildly at me with what I could tell was a dull blade, I barred it with my own. I used his moment of drunken confusion to my advantage, grabbing his collar and pulling him to a ninety degree angle before hitting the back of his head with the grip of my sword. The result was a resounding thud before he fell to the floor.

"Satisfied, Captain?" I called over my shoulder, knowing he had already disarmed his previous opponents and was handling another.

"Unquestionably, love. What say you and I leave the drunks to their fun and go have some of our own, eh?" he replied, not bothering to raise his voice over the thundering of music and shouts.

I rolled my eyes. Even in the face of danger and utter discord, Captain Jack Sparrow had a one track mind. Nonetheless, I was eager to be rid of this place for the night. "Sounds like an accord!"

We easily cleared our way through the crowd as they quickly became interested in other enemies. Kicking the door of the tavern open, Jack Sparrow stepped into the warm night air. I joined him as we treaded into the clammoring street, the Captain jaunting and weaving through more debauchery and inebriated foolishness.

"Where are we going?" I called over the pealing laughter.

"Where else, darling? To the Pearl," he answered.

To this day, I'm a little embarrassed to say my breath hitched in anticipation. I felt as if I was a young debutante, about to come out to her first ball. Only this ball was much better, and considerably more devious.

Somehow, I managed to retain my cool and effortless demeanor in time to reply in mock offense, "Why, Mr. Sparrow, it's not even the third date."