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The Siren Song of Pirate Fire	By : KinkyCheshireKat Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (All) > General Views: 2999 -:- 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
- 6
- 7
- 8
The Siren Song of Pirate Fire
By �Kitty� Katrionna Brannagh

A/N: Allo allo ev�eyone! Kitty here with another
chapter. It�s a little soon, but I DID update, just like we--I promised.

Smeagol: Please give us reviewses!
Yeeees, yeeeeeees, nice
reviews, good reviews, and then, then give us da
precious!!

Kitty: Smeagol, not now! I�m trying to
update!!

Smeagol: But...but we wants da precious! We wants it we does!

Kitty: <sigh> That�s all fine and good,
but I think people wanna read the story, not our
silly conversations.

Smeagle:
.................................but what about da--

Kitty: Ah-ah-AH!! No!! <groan> We better
just start the chapter before we become our schizophrenic self
again.........uh-oh.........

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

�Need something, luv?�
Jack asked, slightly annoyed.

�Oh, nofthing
really,� Giselle replied coyly, �just wondering if I could go with you for a
bit.� And then the devious forced smile...

�Uh, look, Elle--GISELLE,� Jack silently
cursed himself for using that name, �All I�m gonna be
doin� is goin� round to the
taverns�n�stuff. I won�t be doin�
anythin� too in�trest�ting...�
Giselle stuck out her lip and began to whine.

�But Jaaa-aack!! Please,� puppy-dog eyes... �Can� Oi
go wiv you? Puh-leeease??� Ok, so she could look really, really pathetic when she
wanted to...but Jack would not give in!!...............Oh, those eeeeeyes!!! Well--NO! Nonononono!!
Sigh...

�All right...� I�m going to regret this,
Jack thought as Giselle wrapped herself around Jack�s arm, I just know
I�m going to regret this...


As Jack and Ji--er, Giselle walked down the
street, more and more onlookers began to poke their heads out of their windows
and doors. While Jack looked around for a good pub to go in, Giselle talked.
She talked a lot. And here and there she would giggle audaciously like the
devious blonde would-be princess she was. Jack didn�t say much. All he wanted
to do was find a tavern, go inside, get rum, get drunk...and try and forget.

          �Jack?� The
pirate looked up from the ground and turned to his unwanted companion. �Wha�s the mattah with ye? Oi�ve been talking forevuh and I donn think you�ve �eard a word Oi�ve said!� Jack
began to turn his head down again, but Giselle jerked his arm causing his head
to fly up. �Jaa-aack!!� And
there was the whining again... Jack sighed.

          �Sorry, Giselle,
I just...have a lot on me mind, s�all, and just wanna do wha� I have to do and be
done.� Giselle didn�t look satisfied with that. Her cloudy cobalt eyes began to
flame with sharp cerulean. �Uh, I mean, find a pub! Yes! Find a pub, s�right! So, uh, where to then?�
Jack smiled weakly, hoping that his recovered reply would sate her curiosity.
She looked at him for a moment through narrowed dark-blue lined eyes...

          �All right then!�
she bubbily replied. �Uuuuuuuummm...�Ow bout �ere?�
They had stopped in front a tall wooden house (well, more of a shack really...)
and the sign above their heads read in once-flowing golden script, now chipped
and faded yellow, Serum Pub. Jack�s face softened.

          �Yeah,� he
mumbled going through the shabby door, �This�ll do.� Dodging splatters of
alcohol, flung chairs, and drunken sailors, the two made their way to the back
of the pub and sat down at a table. A skinny old man with few teeth left came
over and asked, �What�ll it be, mates?�

          �Just bring me a
bottle of rum, the good stuff...and, uh, keep �em
coming.� With a simple nod the elderly innkeeper started to walk away, but
suddenly his head snapped back and the skin that dangled from his neck jiggled
back and forth in such a way that even Giselle sucked in her lips and bugged
out her eyes, looking like she was going to be sick. But the ancient
bartender�s eyes were even wider than hers. �JACK
SPARROW!?!?� The whole room fell silent (with the exception of
one bottle that was shattered over someone�s head; the attacker was all but
completely deaf...)

          Jack froze and
cautiously looked around. Such a picture; Captain Jack Sparrow, in a pub, with
lots of people that he knew (at one time or another), and he was already
settling into deep-in-thought-and-depressingly-introspective mode because of...
No. Not gonna think about that now.

          The mildly moody pirate
sat up straight and his chin tilted upwards. �Captain Jack Sparrow, IF
you don�t mi--AAGH!!� As if on cue, almost every
person in the bar jumped out of their seats and ran over to the table Jack and
Giselle were sitting at. Hands grabbed Jack�s, bringing him into welcoming
handclasps. Women�s lips were pressed to Jack�s face (and attempted to skim over
other various regions of his person) as Giselle tried to battle them off. And
occasionally a dagger or two were drawn and pointed at Jack�s throat. Luckily
the fighters were drunk as hell and eventually slapped Jack on the shoulder,
saying it was good to have him back. One even started to cry and tell Jack how
much he�d been missed. And then there were the questions...

��Ow�d ye get the Pearl back from the bilge
rat Barbosa, Sparrow?�

�We �eard that
mutinous crew marooned you on a god-forsaiken island
off in the middle-o-nowhere�s! �Ow�d
ye get off?!�

�Oy! I �eard
he roped a couple a sea turt�les! Is�at
right Jack?�

�Nah, nah, t�was
sharks that �ee roped, it�was!
Were�n they Jack, m�boy?�

�Why the bloody �ell are ye around with this
blonde strumpet instead a ME?!?!�

The last question came from two women. The
first was Chelsea
(A/N: pronounced Chel-say-uh), the twin sister of
Jack�s complicated acquaintance, Ana Maria. The two looked exactly alike, except
Chelsea was
blonde (she apparently found British hair dye very fun to play with...) and a
hell-of-a lot more girlish. Cute though--AAGH, nononononoooo. And the second woman... SLAP!!

�Jack Sparrow, you rodgering
arse-head!!�

Hmm, red-brown hair, red dress, lots
of eye-liner, and--OUCH!! Jack looked up at the face of a very unhappy Scarlet, and then down at
her iron-plated boot toes were mashing his poor foot into the ground. �Hey!�
shouted Giselle, who was beginning to feel very unhappy about not being the
centre of Jack�s attention. She jumped up and pushed
Scarlet back away from the table and screeched, �You ca�n
do that to Jack, you rougey tart!� Jack began to
shake his head and put his worn hat over his head. In a flurry of nails, teeth,
and hair, so began one of history�s greatest catfights. And while about two
thirds of the people around Jack left to watch, there were still more that had come,
including...

�Oh Jaa-aack!� called
a sweet voice swirled with a mixture of Jamaican and British. �Look here at
what I�ve got for ye...� Jack�s hat was lifted slightly
up from his face, just enough so that he could see a glass bottle waving in
front of him, the dark brown liquor inside sloshing about. �How
about a drink then, me dearest?� Jack looked at Chelsea�s young, hopeful face. He wanted to
smack it for some odd reason. He was cranky, one would suppose. At women especially. And then he looked at the bottle again.

�All right then, luv,�
Jack tipped his hat up more, smoothed out his moustache, and put on his most
charming smile that he could manage at the moment. He tapped the seat next to
him as Chelsea
set two glasses down in front of him. �Les-ave-a-drink!�
Finally. Rum.

Chelsea, looking quite pleased with herself, poured about a quarter of the bottle in Jack�s
glass and dispensed half of that into her own glass. Ignoring the two women
still fighting in front of them, Jack�s and Chelsea�s glasses clinked together.
Chelsea stared
seriously into Jack�s eyes and smiled fiendishly. �Welcome back, Captain Jack
Sparrow,� she murmured, glancing around at the men and
women who had just come into the Serum Pub, hearing that a certain pirate
captain was back. �You have been missed.�

Jack�s glazed eyes weren�t even looking at Chelsea as his strangled
voice came with the reply, �Yeah, missed by this lot, it�s great...� Jack held
his cup up to the moonlight that streamed through the open window, admiring the
way it caught the glass, and swirling the liquor around, watched it run up the
sides of the glass as it coated the rounded edges. A cruel smile played upon his
lips and he proposed a toast to someone who was no longer with him. �To my return, and the future before me.� And
a happy birthday to you, luv... With not
another thought, Jack tipped his head back along with his glass and drained
every drop of rum in it. He scrunched his eyes at the bittersweet taste as an
onslaught of warm, pleasurable liquid fire lashed through his veins. He brought
the glass back down to the table, practically slamming it. �Pour us another
then, Chelsea.�
Jack waited for more rum to flow into his glass, but it never came. He looked
back up at Chelsea.
�Whas� wrong, woman?� Jack asked, rather irritated.
�I said pour us another.�

�Sorry, Jack,� she answered rather dejectedly.
�It�s just, um,� she tapped at her temple near her eye, �Ye, ye got tears in yer eyes, I thought it was too strong for ye, and that I�d
wait a bit to give ye another.� Jack inhaled sharply, and silently cursed
himself for another time that night.

�Yeah, it...it is a bit stronger than the...�
Jack fought to keep his shoulders rigid and straight, �i�s stronger than the stuff I�m used teh drinkin� on me ship. I�s...� his eyes were threatening
to give way to downpour and his vision was hazy, �Tha�s
all i�is, yeah, i�s too
strong, we�ll...� Chelsea
finally began to pour him another drink, �We�ll go wiv
that.� And once again, a draught of rum splashed down Jack�s throat. The effect
of it was starting to hit him now. Chelsea
poured him another. Now normally, Jack was definitely a man who could �take his
ale.� Well, maybe not definitely. All right, all right, not at all. But
after two huge glasses of rum, Jack was certainly feeling tipsy, at the very
least. And that was what he wanted. To become so intoxicated that he couldn�t
remember a damn thing, to forget everything. The object of this game was to get
completely and utterly whammed.

�Ah, AH, yesh,
right then!�
Jack shouted, the slur in his voice becoming more and more obvious. �Um, where
be the, uh, the uh...� He looked to Chelsea
for help. �Wha�s that word again??� Jack waved his
hands about, attempting to charade the word he was looking for. Chelsea�s eyes lit up and
she threw her hands up in the air. �Ooh, a game! I love games! Pick me!!� The
poor girl flipped aside her dyed banana-peel blonde hair with a smile and tried
to assist him in his word search. He formed a circle with his forefingers and
thumbs.

�Um,� Chelsea
tried, and Jack waved his hands about more, �oh! Um, a
circle?� Jack nodded and motioned her to continue on that track. �Oh,
ok, uh, um, oh god, don�t tell me. Ooh, ooh!� Jack�s right hand grasped an
imaginary handle and threw his head back, miming taking a drink of something.
�Oh, is it a, a, a cup?� Jack nodded again and held his hand level above the
table about five inches high (or at least as level as he could manage with rum
running through him.)

�Right then, a cup, a cup. Uuuhhh, a shot glass?� Jack
wagged his head �no� and emphasised that the glass was supposed to be five
inches high. �Nix the shot glass. Oh, is it a wine goblet then?� Jack�s head
shook even more and he pretended to lift up the cup and slam it back down. �Not a wine goblet either, eh? Uuuummm... a...champagne flute?�
Jack�s head was shaking violently now, causing his dreadlocks to fly all around
his head. He stumbled over to a fat scruffy sailor who was sitting at the table
next to them. Just as the man was about to take a drink, Jack grabbed the
textured cup and held it up in the air, taking the sailor�s hand with him. The
man dropped to the floor and looked in wonder up at Jack who was waving the cup
back and forth in the air, sloshing bits of whiskey out. The sailor, not being
able to reach his drink at the moment stuck his tongue out and tried to catch
the drops of liquor as the descended. Chelsea
clapped her hands and pointed a triumphant finger at the cup Jack held in his
hand. �OH!! Ohohohoh!! It�s a pint!!� Jack tossed his
hands back sending the drink flying (and the sailor, as he was standing up to
take a real drink from the glass...)

�Tha�s right! A pint. A pint! Le�ss �ave
one a those!� Jack took a step forward and his leg
couldn�t seem to find the floor, sending him crashing into the ground. �Oh,
Jack!� Chelsea
called and she jumped over the table to go get him. �You all right, mon? I don�t think ye should have any more than you�ve had.�
Jack�s downward face shot up suddenly as he exclaimed, �No more rum?� He
struggled to his feet. �No more rum?!� His legs
wobbled and he flopped back down upon his bottom. �Well!!� He tossed a limp
hand up to his cheek so as to create the illusion he was considering something.
��Ow about some ale then? Or, uh, whiskey? Yes, whiskey. And then of course there�s
rum!� Jack groggily shook his head. �No, nope, wait, we said that one�s
gone...what about, uh...rum! Yes, rum is always good!�

Chelsea rolled her eyes and pulled Jack to
his feet, and dragged him back to his table. �Wait here, ye great oaf,� Chelsea shouted laughing.
�I�ll go get ye a pint.�

�Or two!� Jack called to her as she walked
away. �Yes, yes, a pint...or two.� Just then, Jack felt two slim hands
resting on either of his shoulders. ��Allo captain,
my captain,� said two distinctly feminine voices. Jack tried to turn around and
see who it was.

Hmm, no one over �ere on the right
side. Now, he may have been drunk but he
thought he had heard shuffling of feet and a swish of skirts. He turned to the
left. No, no one over �ere either. Jack
shook his head for the hundredth time that night and turned himself straight. I
wonder if I�m already that drun--WOAH!
Standing in front of him were the two disgruntled and dishevelled women who had
been fighting earlier. Scarlet and Giselle. �Oh, uh,
yes,� Jack dazedly replied. �Allo
girls. What brings ye two to see ole Jack then,
m�dears?� The two giggled and slid onto the bench,
Scarlet on the right and Giselle on the left.

�Well, after a bit a fightin�,�
began Scarlet, pressing a cold shot glass to her slightly swollen eye, �We�ve
come to an agreement.�

�We�ve decided to share ya,� Giselle continued,
�en not troi en kill each uvva.�
Jack slumped down in his seat and rubbed his temples with his forefingers.

�Don�t I get a say in this,
then?� The two women looked at each other, speaking silently with little
glances, nods, and raised eyebrows.

�No,� was their simultaneous answer.

Jack shook his head and threw his hands up in
defeat. �Just like always, I s�pose.� Just then, Chelsea came back carrying
a tray with eight pints of rum. �All that for me then, luv?� Jack asked hopefully gazing at the few stray bubbles
jumping out of the glasses and onto the tray. Chelsea shook her head, tossing several
strands of bright sandy yellow hair over her shoulder.

�You wish, Jack,� Chelsea answered saucily. She set four of the
mugs down in front of him in a square. �Only four of �em
are.�

Jack stared at the rich brown liquid fizzling
and popping and sending little suds into the air, a mixture of longing and
desolation in his eyes. More rum meant several things: he was gonna get even drunker, he wasn�t gonna
know what he was doing, but most importantly of all... I�ll forget.

Jack seized the handle of the first mug. I�ll
forget what today is. He downed the first half of the rum. I�ll forget
why I hate it. He finished the second half and licked a drop from the glass
lip. I�ll forget why I love it. He slammed the empty pint down and
reached for the second.

I�ll forget why it�s important to
me. His vision
began to swim as rivers of rum flowed down his cheeks and beard as he tried to
drink it all in one swallow. I�ll forget what happened... The three
women began to gaze worriedly at Jack, almost fearing the crazed and estranged
look in his eyes. And I�ll remember why I should forget. The
third mug was empty now, and with lethargic hands Jack reached for the fourth.

With one glass, I�ll drink away my
love for her damn impulsive, ambitious nature. He pressed his lips around the edge of the
glass. With two, I�ll forget my adoration for those loving eyes that saw
right into me, how she swept away my loneliness, how she was my perfect match. He
tipped the mug backwards and the liquor began to fill his mouth. I�ll drink
the third and lose the memories of the times we had and her joy of life. The
taste thrashed against his tongue. And with a fourth glass, I�ll forget my
need for her, further drowning out that fucking voice in my head that tells me
to find her and hold her in my arms and even if she tried to break away to
never let her move an inch from me again. Only a third of the rum was gone
from the glass he still held in his hand, but Jack reached for Giselle�s while
still holding his mug. And what�s a fifth gonna
hurt? He chugged the remaining drink from Giselle�s mug, erratically
chasing it with the remnants of his own fourth drink. �Cause with a fifth
I�ll lose my restlessness and no thought will provoke remembrance of her.

He made a grab for Chelsea�s but she pulled away, so Scarlet�s
was the next drink to be stolen. With each drowning swig, Jack tried to drink
away inhibitions, memories, fears, hopes, adoration, for they all linked back
to her. And a sixth... Jack�s
head heaved forward and lolled over the table as he tried to defy the
emphasised gravity, due to his heavy drinking, and get the last one down, to
complete the impromptu unofficial ritual. And the sixth will... Scarlet
and Giselle began to beg Chelsea
for a sip of her rum and Jack�s brain realised that he needed two hands to lift
the heavy mug. And the sixth, despite its imperfection, will destroy that
place in my mind where I imagine us in love with burning passion, where I take
joy in protecting her and I revel in her love for me, where she adores being
watched over by me and cares for me...

The laughing, screaming faces in front of him
twisted and whirled and spun about. Jack let the mug fall from his hand and it
landed on the table with a loud clink. His palms were pressed against the
table. His chest heaved in and out with heavy breaths. Jack let out a heavy,
shaky sigh as the effect of the alcohol fully gripped him, making his frame
rigid with tension. I�m going to forget about her, he thought fiercely,
his shoulders shaking and his eyes squeezing shut. I�m going to forget and
never remember.

The three women around Jack were all looking
distraughtly at him.

�Whaddye think is
wrong wiv �im then?�
whispered Giselle.

�I do�n know,�
murmured Chelsea.
�Too much rum maybe?�

�Maybe �ee lost a job
or somefthing on a ship,� offered Scarlet, �and...now �ee�s...depressed?�

Suddenly Jack shouted with abandon, �Right
then! I say we sing a, uh, uh...a song, YES, a song!�

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A/N: Jeez, what�s up with me?? That was somewhat
long, but I think it makes up for my shortness last night with Chapter 6. PLEASE
REVIEW, YE CRAZY LADS�N�LASSES! ^_^

Until next time dear readers,

Much love,

~*Kitty*~
- 6
- 7
- 8
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The Siren Song of Pirate Fire