Aboard the Black Pearl, 1747
He stood atop the rails, holding tight to the Pearl's ropes. The ship which had been chasing them was catching up – because he let it, of course. Had they tried to run they would be long gone by now. As it was however, the Bluebird was on rapid approach, and he could clearly make out the elegant blue swan on her flag. He couldn't resist a grin – this was an old battle he'd long wanted to settle.
It wasn't long before the ship was within boarding range, though only a single crew member stood at the rails of the approaching vessel. A tall woman of golden brown hair and razor-sharp grey eyes, she wore a large floppy hat adorned with feathers, and her clothes, though ragged, were clean and neat.
"Hallo there Jackie," the woman's voice was as crisp as her appearance. "I've come for a bit of a talk with you."
"I rather wagered you might be," Jack responded quickly. "But before we get to the talking it often happens that the talker should provide the talkee with a bit of private sustenance from the talker's personal cache and possibly allow the talkee to enjoy the refreshment before the talker begins his talking. Or her, of course."
She pursed her lips into a small frown. "If you think you can confuse me with your silly speech patterns," she called over derisively. "Then I believe you must have forgotten how much time I spent with your family. There will be no provisions transferring from my ship to yours, though I would not refuse the same if we were to have a short chat."
"That all depends me dear lady," Jack's voice turned a bit more sarcastic than usual. "I hear you are traveling with a guest I'd rather not have aboard me own ship, so any inviting would be specifically done with the intent of having only a single invitee, and preventing an additional noninvitees from attending."
A rough and familiar voice breached the gap as well, as one of the Bluebird's crew members joined the captains' discussion. "Ahh Jack, you seem to be becoming a bit paranoid in your old age. What's one friendly pirate's visit to another?"
"Well, Hector, you tend to be a bit too comfortable aboard my ship," Jack's voice had a harsh edge now. "Beyond that, we've both attempted to kill each other several times – I succeeded – and I just don't like you."
Barbossa laughed a dry chuckle and nodded. "Quite mutual Jack..." he drawled. "But I'm afraid if there's talks to be had with Tori and you, then I am to be present for them."
"Well it seems unavoidable," Jack looked at them both suspiciously, but shrugged. "Come aboard then, my dear Tori and not so dear Hector, and we shall have a bit of talk – and we will of course agree not to shoot or otherwise damage one another's persons or ship," he added this last with a guarded look at the Bluebird. "As, despite that I would probably win, I prefer not to have my ship with holes blown in it."
"Aye, we have an accord Jack Sparrow!" If she heard his bitter mutter of 'captain', she did not acknowledge it, and in a few moments both had grabbed hold of rope and swung aboard. She held out her hand – he noted it was as unnaturally clean as he remembered her – and he accepted it, confirming their deal. He gestured grandly toward the stairs, and followed her a moment later – cutting rather rudely in front of Barbossa.
He opened the door of the captain's dining room – and occasional the captain's children's bedroom - and smilingly began to pour some rum, as Tori and Hector, at his rather firm insistence, set their effects across the table from themselves. He was sure they had additional weaponry on their person, but as long as they were lacking their pistols he didn't particularly mind.
"So love, I cannot fathom why you would travel with...that," Jack waved in the general direction of his former first mate as he propped his feet up on the table, quirking an eyebrow at the visitors. "He's not near worthy of you."
She nodded, taking a long pull from glass he'd handed her. "Aye, though I'd phrase it a bit more that he travels with me. 'Tis my ship, my crew, Hector simply serves as a handy...cabin boy," she smirked a bit and ran a hand along his arm. Jack shuddered in obvious revulsion.
"Charming," Jack pulled a face. "And there's no problems for you at all with the fact that he was previously attached to your dearest friend or that he marooned the younger brother of said dearest friend on an island to die whilst he stole said brother's ship from under his nose?"
"Well perhaps if said brother were not a rum-soaked simpleton he would have not lost said sister in the first place, thus leading to no hard feelings between the brother and the mutineer who marooned him, thus in fact not leading to a mutiny or marooning in the first place" she replied very quickly to all his comments, mocking his own speech with effort.
"You know, for all I blame myself for the ordeal it is more than frustrating to constantly be blamed by everyone else. It's been more than two decades love, and I'll wager I miss Claudia more than you do, so just please find something else to be annoyed at me about," Jack twirled his mustache between his thumb and forefinger. "After all, I've done a good many more upsetting things in the mean time."
"Aye ye have," Hector agreed. "Which nicely brings us to the next bit of business -" he was cut off rather sharply by the door to the dining room being quite violently shoved open.
Jack looked up at the door and saw his lover there, still holding her pistol in hand. He jumped up, well aware of exactly how not rational his Lizzie could be when she got a bad idea in her brain – particularly as her pregnancy wore on.
"Well if it isn't Miss Turner," Barbossa drawled, standing. He removed his hat and bowed genteelly. "Forgive me, if it isn't my liege, King Turner," he corrected himself.
Whatever response he had expected to that, it was most definitely not the one he received.
In fact, they were all a bit shocked when Elizabeth rose the pistol and fired a shot directly into Captain Jenney's chair. "Love, have we a problem?" Jack asked a moment later, holding his hands up, his expression placating – and turning rather desperate when a moment later his pistol was raised in her hand, aimed perfectly at Captain Jenney's forehead.
"Miss Turner, of the two of us it seems rather odd that she'd be the one you're shooting," Barbossa stood quite still. "And though I appreciate the kindness towards me self, I can't help but wonder what has put you in such a mood against me lady captain."
"Yes, exactly, shoot Hector!" Jack exclaimed. "If we are to kill people he is certainly more deserving love, I still rather like Tori."
Elizabeth's amber eyes were locked on the steel colored orbs of Captain Jenney. "I've heard of the Dread Tori you know," she said quietly. "But you, you I thought had died. I was told you'd been dead for many many years."
"Well you're not the first to be so misinformed," Captain Jenney replied tensely, her hand twitching against her leg as she eyed her own gun. "But you're the first who has tried to shoot me for that offense alone."
"I did not try to shoot you – if I'd wanted to shoot you I'd have shot you," Elizabeth's voice was too calm.
"I can vouch for that, she's quite a good shot," Jack interjected. At his lover's fierce glare he lapsed into silence, deciding it was in his best interest to simply not interfere.
"You see, I'm upset because I thought it was a rather reliable source. And I hate to have my sources proven incorrect, so I could solve the problem by making it correct."
"Well Mrs. Turner – that is who you are, isn't it? Wife of the Ferryman?" She didn't wait for confirmation. "Yes I'd heard Jack had stolen the wife of Flying Dutchman's Captain. I am sorry you have become disillusioned with your 'sources' but next time wait until you've heard from someone a bit closer to me before believing stories of my demise. They are usually greatly exaggerated."
"I doubt there are many closer than my source was, unless you have more husbands stowed up your sleeves."
That drew both all three captains up short. "Love, you know Tori's husband?" Jack looked between them. "Who exactly are you married to Tor? I thought he died years ago."
"Aye, even I've yet to hear the tales of London social life," Hector chuckled a bit to himself.
"I did know him Jack," Elizabeth corrected. "He is dead and has been for years."
"I had heard he died," Captain Jenney said quietly. "I was sorry, but that doesn't change it. He was a good man."
"He didn't die, you fool, he was murdered," her voice turned acid. "He wouldn't have been in the Caribbean to die if it weren't for you – he loved you and mourned you! He would have stayed in London if not for the fact that his home reminded him of you!"
"He did not love me, he loved the stories my father had painted of my gentle beauty," Tori's voice got quite hard. "He wanted me laced up and pinned for his collection of pretties."
"So you stole away into the night, pretending to have died? Clever trick. He was left believing he'd lost not only his daughter to pirates but his wife as well. I know for a fact that he mourned both until he died."
She went quite white. "His daughter? My daughter?" Her eyes grew quite wide and serious, bringing to Jack's mind an odd image of Abigail at her most intense. "You know what happened to her? I heard she was killed with him – killed by Beckett."
"She was certainly not killed, and certainly not by Beckett, though for no lack of trying," Elizabeth quirked a small smile and cocked the pistol. "Yo ho, a pirate's life for me," she sang softly, watching as realization dawned across Captain Jenney's face. Elizabeth's eyes glinted in the dim lamplight.
"Aye." She smiled. "Hello Mother."