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What Jack Sparrow Wants	By : JennyPugh Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (All) > General Views: 7632 -:- 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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Damned to the
depths whatever muttonhead thought of disclaimers!
Evileyedpirategrrl
– I’m glad you enjoyed that little romp. ;)
Chelsey – will
Jenny stay with Jack…? Hmm, you’ll just have to wait and see! :p
Caribbean-Mama –
well I’m glad I’ve brighten up housework for you!!
Hilary – missed
you? Nah, not a bit! :p
Thanks to Rachel
Sparrow, JacksFoxyLass, Elfmaiden07 and Niccah for your reviews. Special thanks
to Linnie and Hils for editing XX
A little bird
tells me that a certain reader/reviewer has a special birthday today. So this
chapter is just for you Caribbean-Mama – have a great day!!
…
Chapter
twenty: ‘Course I’m all right luv, I’m Captain Jack Sparrow.’
Jack cursed out
loud as he and Paul Rochester struggled with the helm, the strong current in the
Strait trying to send them to the rocks that lined it. It had taken them four
hard days just to reach the narrow passage near the beginning of the Strait and
Jack was seriously beginning to wonder whether they would make it through in
one piece.
‘I reckon
bleedin’ Lopez had th’right idea, goin’ across land an’ all…’ he muttered,
staring darkly at the passage looming ahead.
‘Shall we drop
anchor, Sir?’ The same thoughts had been going through Paul Rochester’s mind
and a sick pit of fear was welling up inside him at the thought of attempting
the passage.
‘Nah, the
current’s too strong. It’ll drag us to th’rocks.’
‘Cap’n!’ Jack
looked up at the look-out, stationed high on the rigging. ‘Cap’n, there’s a fog
closing in from th’north.’
Jack laid his
head against the wheel, too dejected to curse any more. ‘What else is goin’ ter
go wrong, Paul?’ Jack looked back up to the look-out. ‘How fast’s it comin’
in?’ he called, sending up a small prayer of hope.
‘Not that fast,
Cap’n. Reckon we might have time ter get through th’channel.’
Jack looked at
his helmsman then at his quartermaster, Joshamee Gibbs, who had joined them,
then at the narrow opening ahead. ‘Unfurl th’fore an’ topsails, an’ run out
th’sweeps. We need to do this fast but gentle, savvy?’
‘Aye Cap’n.’ Gibbs
spun on his heels, barking orders as he went and the deck of The Black Pearl
became a hive of activity as the crew leapt to the orders. Jenny climbed the
rigging and helped unfurl the mainsail then went back down and stood and
watched with the rest of the crew as Jack and Paul steered the ship on a steady
course towards the narrow gap, her heart in her mouth the closer they got. She
glanced up and saw the first swirling of the fog over the cliff tops and she
clasped her hands together, murmuring a prayer under her breath.
Jack hung onto
the helm for all he was worth, as the wind caught the sails and battled with
the current to pull The Pearl off course but he and Paul somehow managed
to keep control. Her bow edged into the gap as the fog came over the top of the
Strait and started to make its way downwards, enshrouding those at the top of
the masts.
‘All hands, keep
watch over th’sides,’ Jack ordered, feeling the deck rumble beneath his feet as
his crew made their way to the sides of the ship, scanning for any rocks or
other hazards.
Slowly The
Black Pearl eased through the channel and a muted cheer went across her
decks, the relief evident in the voices of all on board.
‘It ain’t over
yet, ya scabrous dogs, furl th’sails, an’ maintain th’sweeps until we’re well
away from the passage then we’ll drop anchor’ Jack ordered then scanned the
deck for Jenny, smiling as he saw her figure faintly through the mist.
…
‘Ow!’ Jenny
scowled at her grazed knuckles then sucked the blood off. Polishing the
gratings was her least favourite job. It almost always ended with blood being
shed – hers.
‘Go an’ get some
salve off Cotton.’
She looked up as
Jack squatted beside her and snorted. ‘I’m not running to Mr. Cotton every time
I skin myself,’ she smiled at his laugh.
‘Spoken like a
true sailor, Jenny Wren.’ Jack took her hand and licked the blood away then
kissed it gently. ‘Wonder how much longer we’re goin’ ter be mired in this
fog?’
The Black
Pearl had inched forward slowly during the past couple of days but Jackhad
not wanted to go too far in case they went off course and headed for the rocks
and cliffs lining the Strait of Magellanes. The ship shone like new as all
hands had polished and cleaned and repaired her, anything to keep their minds
and hands busy. But now they were running out of things to do and patience was
wearing a little thin. One of the crewmen was currently in the sick bay being
tended to by Ned Cotton, having lost his footing in the thick fog and fallen
from the rigging to the deck, landing with a sickening thud. Jenny hoped there
would be no more incidents for she was starting to feel nervous about the
native’s warnings against opening the burial mound and knew the crew were
whispering the same to each other, too afraid to voice it out loud.
‘Hmm? Oh, sorry
Jack, I was miles away.’
‘I wish we
were luv,’ he smiled ruefully. ‘Leave that Jen, let’s go below. Ya can chart a
course to Tortuga for me.’
‘Is that where
we’re going?’ Jenny was not sure she wanted to go to the infamous pirate town.
After all, San Juan and Fortaleza had been bad enough.
‘Aye luv, making
a slight detour on th’way back.’ Jack led the way to the hatch leading to his
cabin.
‘Jack, why don’t
you use the main cabin? I know the captains on other ships do.’
‘Can’t bring
meself ter use it after Barbossa took over me ship. Gibbs don’t have a problem
with it though an I like th’quarters I got well enough, they’re more private,’
Jack winked salaciously, chuckling at Jenny’s mock stern frown. He strode over
to the chest that contained his maps and took out an unmarked one that he had
drawn up while the ship had been stationary in the fog, and spread it across
the table.
‘Where did this
one come from?’ she queried, as she thought she had seen most of Jack’s maps
and knew that they had all got markings and lines drawn on them.
‘Drew it up
yesterday an’ this morning luv.’
‘You drew
it up?’ Jenny looked in amazement at the map, noting how professional it
looked.
‘Aye, when I
stowed aboard The Heart of Oak, I was apprenticed to th’cartographer on
board. He was th’best map maker I’ve ever come across, good man too. Right,
c’mon missy, get this route charted.’ Jack leaned over deliberately close as
Jenny set about charting the course to Tortuga, via Montevideo and Fortaleza,
knowing they would need to pick up supplies. ‘Excellent luv, Bert Heathcote
would be proud o’ya.’
‘Bert
Heathcote?’
‘Me old
cartographer master. There’s just one thing, we’ll be making a slight detour
before we get ter Tortuga but we won’t be puttin’ it on th’map.’ Jack rolled
the chart up and stored it with the others in the chest, making sure it was
shut tight.
‘Where will we
be going?’ Jenny eased her aching back, then smiled as his nimble fingers set
to work on the knots in it.
‘Isla de
Muerta.’
‘What? Is
not there where…..?’
‘Aye luv, it’s
where th’cursed treasure of Cortez was found. It’s also a bloody good place ter
store me booty.’
‘But doesn’t the
Navy know about it?’ Jenny knew all about the story, having heard various
versions of it from the crew, as well as Jack himself.
‘Aye, which is
why they’ll never suspect me of usin’ it as a cache,’ Jack grinned smugly, then
left Jenny sitting and there and walked to his tallboy, producing his pipe and
some hemp leaves from it and lit it, inhaling deeply. ‘C’mon, come an’ sit on
me lap Jen.’ He sat on the window seat and looked out at the fog, sighing to
himself.
‘How long have
you used Isla de Muerta as a cache?’ Jenny sat against him and tried to hold
her breath for as long as possible, feeling Jack chuckle as she let it out in a
wheeze.
‘Won’t kill ya
Jen, here try some.’ He handed the pipe to her as she looked at him doubtfully.
‘Don’t inhale it too much, savvy?’
Jenny sucked
slowly on the pipe then let her breath out again before it hit her lungs, and
tried again, taking a deeper breath of the hemp smoke but was too late in
letting it out and choked as her lungs filled with the smoke. ‘N-no more,’ she
wheezed, her eyes streaming and nose running. ‘Well?’
‘Eh? Oh, Isla de
Muerta? Since th’curse was lifted. Gibbs an’ them went back before th’Navy
could get their hands on th’loot and took as much as they could then came back
fer me. Th’Navy took th’rest of it, apart from Cortez’s chest then blew the
entrance to th’cave. But there are plenty more caves around th’island. Not that
th’Navy go anywhere near th’place, bloody load of nonces.’
Jenny giggled,
the hemp starting to affect her. ‘Nonces! Ha! Nonces with brooms down their
backs,’ she laughed, inhaling a cloud of smoke that Jack blew out.
‘Up their arses
more like,’ Jack snorted then joined Jenny giggling until they were both
clutching their sides, quite helpless with laughter.
‘Cap’n? Cap’n,
the fogs liftin’ sir.’
‘Aye Daniel,
we’re comin.’ Ya comin’ Jen?’ Jack uncoiled himself from her and stood, swaying
from side to side, his arms flailing about.
‘I’ll make it to
the deck before you do, that’s for sure.’ She ran for the cabin door and up the
steps, squealing as he tried to grab her legs and pull her back.
‘Get back ‘ere
woman, ya cheated,’ Jack growled good naturedly then looked around as he
stepped out on deck at the thinning fog, spying the cliffs on the starboard
side of the Strait. ‘Reckon we can sail through this, eh Mr. Gibbs?’
‘Aye Cap’n, we
can, not so sure about you though…’ Joshamee Gibbs ignored the indignant
splutter from his captain and ordered the crew to make sail, relieved to be on
their way once more.
By the time they
approached the opening of the Strait, Jack had sobered up enough to take the
helm with Paul Rochester. The seas did not seem as rough as when they had
entered it, which pleased him. But he still told Jenny to strap herself into
the bunk and take a slop bucket with her, just in case.
The Black
Pearl rocked and pitched the nearer they got to the gap and the open ocean,
and the two men at the helm had a struggle to keep hold of the wheel and stay
on course. The waves started climbing higher and higher until they reached the
upper gun deck and poured through the ports that had been forced open by the
sea until the crew fastened it shut again and turned their attentions to the
next open port.
Jenny unstrapped
herself and watched the waves through the stern windows with a certain amount
of fascination and much to her relief, no queasiness in her stomach at all. She
clung on to the side of the bunk as the ship pitched violently and seemed to
carry on down for an age, before righting herself again. She chewed her lip,
worried for the men on the deck, especially Jack, and she had to fight the urge
to go up and check if everyone was all right. She looked out of the window again
and immediately noticed the waves did not seem as high and the roll of the ship
not quite as violent as it was before then she saw the land behind the ship and
knew they had made it out of the Strait.
Jack ordered a
course away from the land. Now they were not looking for an opening, they did
not have to hug the shore so closely and he was hoping for calmer seas. He told
Paul to get some rest and got Pete Symmonds to take over the helm while he
checked on Jenny, not being altogether surprised when he met her coming up the
steps to the deck.
‘Are you all
right Jack?’ Relief clearly showed on her face as she saw that he was and Jack
felt that his heart was going to pound out of his chest, knowing that she had
been worried for him.
‘Course I’m all
right luv, I’m Captain Jack Sparrow.’ He followed her as she made her way back
down the steps then held her close to him, burying his face in her loose hair.
‘Were you all right luv?’ he whispered, kissing his way along Jenny’s neck and
up her face to her lips.
‘Mmm,’ came the
reply, as Jenny eagerly returned the kiss then broke it off as Joshamee Gibbs
interrupted them with a discreet cough.
‘Sorry to
interrupt, but there’s a fair bit o’water in th’bilges. I’ve got a team pumpin’
it out but thought you should know, Jack.’
‘Aye Gibbs, I’m
comin’.’ Jack rolled his eyes at Jenny then followed his right hand man down
the corridor and back to his duties.
Jenny made her
way to the galley where John Williams was trying to re-light the galley stove,
cursing under his breath as attempt after attempt failed. ‘Is there anything I
can do, John?’ She stood hesitantly in the doorway, not knowing whether to stay
or go.
‘Aye sweetheart,
ya can turn into a fire breathin’ dragon an’ get this bleedin’ thing alight.’
John let out a sigh as the wood finally caught light then smiled ruefully up at
Jenny who was laughing.
‘I remember the
trouble I had trying to light the fire at home in the winter. I used to have to
fetch a man from down the lane to do it for me some days.’ She smiled fondly at
the memory then walked across to the side cabin where the animals were kept.
‘How were they?’
‘Th’goats
bleated like summat possessed but th’hens were fine, just carried on pecking at
th’grain.’
‘I’ll bet
there’s no milk to be had then.’ Jenny fetched a pail from the hook and sat on
the floor beside one of the goats and started tugging at its teats, surprised
when milk began to squirt out into the pail. ‘Looks like I was wrong, John.’
‘That’s good
luv, we could do wi’some decent fresh food. Th’hens laid ten eggs, an’ there
are five left over from th’other day, so I reckon we can cook us up some
scrambled egg if ya get enough milk from th’goats.’
‘I’ll make sure
I get enough milk in that case,’ she laughed, settling into a rhythm of
milking, half filling the pail from the one goat then moving it to the other
and starting again. She carried the three quarters full pail out to the galley
and carefully strained it through a piece of muslin into another pail, then
poured the milk into a cauldron. She broke the eggs into it and used a long
wooden spoon to mix it all thoroughly.
‘What’s fer
supper?’ Jack padded barefooted into the galley, saw the fire was lit and went
and warmed himself by it.
‘Scrambled egg,
spuds and cured beef.’ John had pressed one of the younger crewmembers into
peeling the mound of potatoes and the cook lifted the pot and placed it on the
stove. ‘We’ll have ter go easy on th’food though Cap’n, just about have enough
ter get us ter Montevideo. We’re all right fer water though.’
‘Aye Cookie, whatever
ya see fit,’ Jack grinned lasciviously at the sight of Jenny’s backside
sticking up as she bent to stroke behind the ears of one of the cats, whomshe
had named Smokey.
‘Jack Sparrow,
if you were a gentleman you would avert your eyes….’ Jenny glanced over her
shoulder at him, eyes narrowed.
‘Eh? How’d ya
know what I was lookin’ at? ‘Sides, I never pretended ter be a gentleman,’ Jack
grinned, broadly. ‘I’ll leave yer in peace to get supper. We’ll have ours in
th’cabin Jen, savvy?’
‘All right Jack,
I’ll bring it along later,’ she straightened and pecked Jack on the cheek then
turned her attention back to the scrambled eggs, mentally reminding herself to
fetch a bottle of wine from the hold to take along as well. It promised to be a
good night.
…
- 19
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What Jack Sparrow Wants