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Bet You Anything	By : Fish Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (All) > General Views: 3901 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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First ever Barbossabeth fanfic, please be gentle. I welcome
con-crit, but please... for the love of Barbossa, no flames!

*�� *�� *

. .BET YOU
ANYTHING. .

His pale eyes flashed dangerously as their little argument
became somewhat more heated. "Tell me, Missy, have ye ever danced with the
Devil?"

She looked up from the table at him and set her jaw in defiance. "I think
you'll be in agreement that I've done more than that � gambling with death is
nothing new."

"Then what be stoppin' ye now?" he pressed.

"Who said I've stopped? I just don�t care for it so much anymore."
She shrugged, a signal that she could not care less about the conversation.

"Playin' it safe then," he stated after a moment of silent
contemplation.

"No. I'm not playing at anything," she insisted as she idly
ran her fingernails lightly along the beaten surface of the heavy table between
them.

"Oh, I think ye are; bringin' to mind the question: what be the point if
ye can't stand to play an' lose?" He sat forward on his seat and rested
his elbows on the tabletop, awaiting her response.

"So, that's your game then?" she questioned by way of answer,
curiosity piqued.

He recoiled in his high-backed seat, placing his hand over his heart to imply
he had taken offence. "I haven't a clue what you're saying, Missy; I'd
ne'er play a game with ye � t'would be far too... dangerous," he
drawled languorously.

She studied him for a moment, considering what his challenge could possibly be.
"I'm afraid I won't be the one losing this round, Captain."

"Your confidence will be shot when I'm through," he threatened in a
low voice, never removing his eyes from hers.

"Want to bet?" she raised a brow at him.

"Tell me, are ye feelin' lucky, yer Majesty?"

"I don't need luck."

His nostrils flared at her confident response, more out of exhilaration than
irritation. "Settled," he stated, leaning back in his seat, an
accomplished look upon his weathered features. "We shall agree on the bet
'n' stakes in the morn."

"Indeed we shall." She stood and nodded, "Goodnight, Captain
Barbossa."

"Sweet dreams, Captain Turner," he enunciated, waving her off with an
air of nonchalance.

*�� *�� *

"You can't be serious!" she protested, slamming
her palms on to the tabletop. They sat opposite one another in the Captain's
quarters once again, and had been arguing since they had sat down to discuss
what they were betting on. That they both had their ideas of what they wanted
from each other all worked out also proved the spark for yet another
half-discussion, half-argument.

"Look at me face, Turner, do I look to be jestin' with ye?"

"What you're suggesting is," she gesticulated as she searched for the
word, "absurd!"

"'Tis my request, my winnin's," he defended. "Besides, if yer so
certain of yer victory, why should my... prize be a bother?"

"Fine," she conceded eventually, but not after gaping at him for a
moment. "Now for my prize."

He raised his eyebrows, clearly not impressed by what Elizabeth deemed a
dramatic pause. "Go on..."

"If I win � and I assure you that I will," he snorted at her
confidence, "then I want the Pearl."

"What?!"

"You heard me." She decided to clarify, "I win, I get the Pearl.
You stay on land. What you do from then on is entirely up to you." At
this, he fell into silent contemplation. "Do we have an accord?" she
prompted somewhat impatiently.

"We've two days 'til we reach Tortuga. You'd best ensure yer readiness, Mrs
Turner." She did not appreciate the tone he used when he practically
ground out her name, even less appreciated was the more-than-unsettling glint
in his eyes.

"Oh, I'm ready when you are... Hector." With that, she left
his quarters.

Captain Barbossa sat back in his high-backed chair, a knowing smirk on his
features; he so loved their quarrels, of which there had been a seemingly
endless string since they began sailing together a little over a year ago. For
the most part they served as the most effective way of learning more about the
new Pirate King, something Barbossa had found himself more inclined to do in
the past month or so. The smirk having turned into a smile, he clasped his
hands behind his head and set his booted feet atop the well-worn dining-table,
entirely confident that he would be the victor in their latest little game.

After all, how difficult could it be?

Captain Elizabeth Turner stood at the wheel of the ship, having relieved Mr
Cotton of his duty for the rest of the night. Gazing out upon the tranquil
waters, she silently contemplated just what she was letting herself in for;
while confident in her ability, she had never experienced how Barbossa handled
such a situation. Either way, the deal had been made, they had struck an
accord, and the challenge was on; for the sake of her pride, among other
things, she had not taken her own advice to back down.

As the sun gave way to the night, Elizabeth spared a thought for her husband,
Will Turner. He had been at the helm of the Flying Dutchman for almost two
years, and though she missed him dearly she still valued the freedom she had
that she was certain she would have missed out on had they chosen to stay on
land and settle down. Half of her rejoiced at her current situation whilst the
other mourned, though she knew there was nothing that could be done for either
of them.

It had surprised her to find herself on the same ship with the renowned Captain
Hector Barbossa once again � when Will had taken command of the Dutchman,
Barbossa had been the last person she ever wanted to see. How time changes
everything, she considered as she righted their course a little as a breeze
from the East pushed them a little faster towards Tortuga. Idly, she wondered
if Jack Sparrow would be there � if he were, she was certain they would run
into each other, not that she particularly wanted to. Shrugging off her
thoughts of the pirate she once considered to be the good-guy, the young Pirate
King continued to right the ship's course. Not that I consider Barbossa any
better than Jack, she reminded herself before leaving the subject to rot at
the back of her mind.

Focusing her attentions on the silent seas ahead, she began to prepare herself
for Barbossa's challenge.
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