Summary: The following are basically short stories that I've written for challenges on forums, for my own amusement, or as individual challenges. Some might be a little off the wall or serious or a mixture of both.

Disclaimer: Disney owns it all. I do nothing but borrow the characters for my own warped amusement.

A/N: The challenge for this one was scars, seagulls, and a plan gone wrong. Damn those seagulls. This story has no spoilers for DMC.


Anamaria had finally found a quiet spot to sit on the beach, digging her toes into the warm sand and picking up the bundle that sat beside her. Unwrapping it, she pulled the knife from inside her boot and picked up the red apple, sliding the knife into it. Juice welled up as the knife entered and she pulled it loose again, only to move the blade an inch and slid it in again to produce a slice. She wiggled it away from core and moved the piece to her mouth, only to have someone pluck it from her fingers. Reaching behind her quickly, she found a handful of fabric of the thief's shirt and pulled him forward into the sand.

"That wasn't very nice." She said as she plucked the half eaten piece out of his hand and popped it into her own mouth. Letting go of the shirt, she started to slice another piece from the apple. "Besides, this is my apple. If you want one so badly, you can go get it. You know where the barrel is." Nonchalantly, she popped the next piece of apple into her mouth, but couldn't help the barest hint of a smile that appeared on her face.

Beside her, the thief grumbled and sat up so that he was facing her. "I thought the point of piracy was to take what you can and give nothing back." He replied, dusting the sand off his shirt and jacket. Anamaria closed her eyes and she shook her head.

"This coming from the man that once upon a time said he would rather thrust himself upon a blade that would pierce him through the heart than ever have anything to do with piracy." She commented and then held out the knife, a piece of the apple carefully balanced on the blade.

Will picked it off and stuck it in his mouth, chewing slowly. "There are circumstances as in every situation." He replied lamely and the amused look on Anamaria's face grew.

"I'm sure it has absolutely nothing to do with disregarding a moral compass and for once thinking of your deepest, hidden desire." She replied and glanced up to find him staring at her with a content half smile on his face. "Or desires as the case may be."

Will seemed to have a response to her, but suddenly his expression darkened and he glared past her. Anamaria turned slightly to see the seagull eyeing the apple in her hand with unconcealed interest, beady little eyes fixed upon the prize. It flapped its wings once and hopped a step closer, feeling brave. "William, it's a seagull."

"I hate seagulls." He replied and picked up a small piece of a broken shell, tossing it at the bird. "Go!" He hissed at it, but the bird neatly sidestepped the flying debris, its gaze never once leaving the apple.

"Stop it. It's never done anything to you." Anamaria chastised him, turning back around. She paused mid-cut and eyed him. "Or perhaps it hasn't, but another of its feathery brethren has." She knew him well enough at this point to know when he was hiding something. It helped that his face had flushed a few shades of red. She tapped him on the end of his nose with the tip of the blade. "I sense a story that I would much like to hear."

"But I…"

"No." She replied firmly. "I'm willing to reward you if you do."

He glanced at her suspiciously. "Oh? And what would I get from this?"

A wry, amused expression was on Anamaria's features. "Tell your story and find out." She replied and went back to work on her apple. Will watched her for a few moments before uttering a heavy sigh, shifting to a cross legged position and resting his elbows on his knees.

"It's something that never would have happened had I not been nearly starving to death…"


The last of his money had been spent on a piece of bread. Will's stomach growled viciously as he made his way back to the smithy and he winced. Business had been slow as of late and that meant that the salary Brown paid him had decreased as well. It couldn't have been at a worse time either. He had just hit a growth spurt and his body seemed to demand more food to keep up with the growing that he did. A measly piece of bread wouldn't sustain him for very long, but it was all he had for the moment.

Entering the shop, he placed the wrapped bundle on the workbench and headed to the back of the shop to fetch some water from the barrel. Upon returning, he found a seagull perched on the edge of workbench, picking at the cloth wrapped around the bread. "Hey!" Will shouted and ran for the workbench, waving his arms. "Get out of here! Find your own food!"

The bird gave him a bored look and snatched up the small bundle in its beak, hopping off the workbench and waddling towards the donkey, snoozing quietly in the corner of the shop. Will sprinted after him, skidding to a stop just as the bird waddled underneath the donkey and disappeared momentarily from sight only to reappear on the other side, sitting the bundle down on the ground and picking at it once again. Cursing quietly just as he'd heard the men do while he had been a cabin boy, he got down on his hands and knees and reached for the bread. The bird gave up on the bundle for the moment to instead nip him in the fingers. Picking up the bundle, it took off again, this time taking to the air and landing in the rafters above.

Will looked upwards, a frustrated expression on his face. This wasn't going to work unless he had a plan. Glancing around the shop, the boy's gaze landed on the hatchet resting on one of the racks. He'd helped to make it, but had never once used it in the manner he was thinking of now. Snatching it up, he stuck it in his belt and kicked off his shoes and stockings.

When he had nothing else to do and Brown wasn't around, Will had taken to exploring every part of the shop, which meant he had found a way to climb up to the rafters. He started up slowly, finding the marks he had made to help himself along. The bird seemed not to care, having gotten one side of the bundle undone.

Eventually the boy pulled himself up onto the rafter and kept to a low crouch, pulling the hatchet from his belt and watching the bird. Just then, a thought struck him. No one had ever told him not to eat a sea gull. If he managed to kill this bird, would that mean another meal? His stomach rumbled as he frowned at the bird. Perhaps no one had ever been able to catch one before so they wouldn't know if the meat was good or not. There was only one way to find out.

He gripped the hatchet tightly as the British naval soldier- What was his name? Groves? - had once shown him when he had come to have his blade sharpened. Breathing in deeply, he stared at his target and drew the hatchet back before throwing it as hard as he could. It missed the bird, but succeeded in scaring it. It went straight for Will, who tried to avoid it and only managed to lose his balance. He toppled off the rafter as the bird made its way out through the hole in the roof.

On the way down, something had snagged the boy's shirt. It had only stopped him for a moment though before he heard the rip and crashed onto the floor below, the air leaving his lungs as he hit. He curled up in a ball for a moment, coughing, before opening his eyes and finding Lieutenant Norrington staring down at him, the expression on his face a mixture of curiosity, amusement, and annoyance.

"I think it's safe to assume that your master is not around?" He asked, arching an eyebrow. Will sat up stiffly and reaching behind his right shoulder where it hurt. His fingers came away covered in blood. It must have been the nail that did it. The area throbbed painfully.

"No sir." He answered, getting to his feet and dusting off his breeches, eyes downcast. "He'll be back after the lunch hour." Norrington nodded, taking that in before resting his hands on the boy's shoulders and turning him just enough to see where blood was soaking into the shirt.

"Then you have time to run to the doctor and see if he will tend to that before it becomes infected." Norrington told him and nodded for the door. "Tell him that I sent you." Will looked up at him, surprised. "That's a nasty wound. You might want to have it tended to quickly." He said with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

Will found his voice again. "Thank you, sir." He said in a rushed tone and scrambled for the door.


Anamaria shrieked with laughter, arms wrapped around her stomach as she leaned forward. Will merely glowered at her. It took her a few moments, but the laughter finally died down and she wiped the tears from her eyes, not a bit apologetic. "If it weren't for bad luck, Turner, you'd be a man with no luck at all." She snorted. "I think it's safe to say that you could keep me amused."

"Glad to be of some service." He muttered, getting to his feet. He didn't get very far as he suddenly found himself lying on his back in the sand, Anamaria straddling his stomach. She leaned down on him, resting her chin on her crossed arms.

"Don't be so humorless about it." She told him and scooted up a bit farther so that they were face to face. "Laugh at the mistakes that don't kill you or put you in a tight spot. You'll live a lot longer." She said before kissing his lips. "And you're a better man when you're not being uptight."

"I suppose so." He replied, looking up at her. "But there still is the matter of my prize. What is it?"

"Let me say this." She told him with a mischievous smile. "I'll be able to see that scar the seagull gave you…" She paused for a moment before continuing. "And a whole lot more."