An: So this is my first Pirates Of The Caribbean fanfiction, and my nervousness stops me from judging this story and categorizing it as 'good' or 'terrible'. Hopefully you'll be some help to me, and I apologize in advance for any mistakes, or out of character problems. I just couldn't stop myself from writing a story about Jack and Angelica. They're just too CUTE! Twitter (in case you want to know any advances in my stories): twitter(dot)com(slash)alexosaurus
Twitter (in case you want to know any advances in my stories): twitter(dot)com(slash)alexosaurus
All I ask is that you be patient with me. Like I said, I'm venturing into new lands with this one.
Tortuga, the pirate safe-haven where men give new meaning to the word 'drunk', and the air itself smells like the finest batch of rum. The place where horny prostitutes run hungry, and men who tell stories both true and false, simply wait to be ravished and used to ease their hunger pains. That fabled port where pirates from near and far come to indulge in the company of their fellow friend, or enemy, and where their majestic ships can rest proud and tall without waiting to be destroyed by the armed guards of the King. Yes, Tortuga is a beautiful, beautiful place, and Captain Jack Sparrow couldn't be happier when his long lost Black Pearl pulled into port. Gibbs, his loyal first mate, stood beside him to share the feeling of joy; the sound of loud music, even louder people, and breaking glass bringing bright smiles to both of their faces.
"It's good to be back, ain't it Jack?"
"Aye," the Captain smiled, his hand rising to take in the last swig of rum sloshing in the bottom of his flask. "Very fine, indeed. I do believe that we both deserve a few weeks relaxation after everything that happened in this past fortnight."
"Aye," Gibbs laughed, smirking to himself as he moved to lower the walkway to the pier. "That woman of yours sure riled you up on more than one occasion. Or so I saw."
"No," Jack stated, swishing his hand through the air dramatically. "No woman can 'rile' me. I am Captain Jack Sparrow. I am never riled."
"Uh-huh, so all of those feelings you had for her...they didn't come back at all after spending all this time with her?"
"I'm telling you Gibbs, they were stirrings," he corrected, quickly walking his way off of his ship, and turning his attention to the large, magnificent pub resting right by the docks. "And no...they didn't."
"I know when you're lying Jack," his first mate pointed out; speaking nothing but truth. "I've sailed by your side for years, and even though you're an unpredictable man in action...I can tell how you feel about something. What ever happened to that female? Angie...Angela-?"
"Angelica," the captain corrected, that familiar pang in his chest making it's appearance as it always did when he spoke of her.
"Yeah," Gibbs nodded, smirking to himself as he pushed through the doors of the pub with Jack leading before him. "You never told me what happened to her."
"That's because I don't know what happened to her," Jack stated, looking over his shoulder momentarily, before accepting the rum from the man behind the counter and sliding easily into one of the tables nearby. "You see, Mr. Gibbs...I rowed Angelica out the white sand island in the middle of the trading paths...are you familiar with it?"
"I believe so, aye," his friend assured. "Though, it's difficult to see much on that island from a ship. The water surrounding the land is very shallow."
"Yes, well, I gave her a pistol with one bullet that she could use to alert a passing ship," Sparrow smiled, a smirk easily touching his lips as his finger ran around the rim of his glass. "She obviously wasn't smart with using it, but nonetheless, I gave her the option."
"Alright, well, what did you do? Just leave her there?"
"Precisely. I couldn't bring her with us. She's way too much to handle."
"I think yer lying to me, Jack," Gibbs prodded, sitting back and shooting back the smooth alcohol. "I think you abandoned her because you couldn't handle your...stirrings...for her. It's nothing to be ashamed about. Every man has fallen in love at least once in their life."
"And what did you do to that woman you supposedly loved, Mr. Gibbs?"
"Well, I had to leave," he shrugged. "She wanted me to stay with her, but the sea was callin' me back. I couldn't just abandon my ship for a dame."
"Interesting," Jack mumbled, before leaning forward on his elbows. "So tell me...why is my situation any different?"
"Because Jack, there are different kinds of love in this world," his friend reasoned, leaning forward to mimic his stance. "There's that kind of love you experience when you sleep with a woman you've just met, and then there's the love you get when you meet a woman who is perfect, despite every single one of her faults. Hell, she could sink your ship, and you would still love her."
"Lean back," Jack ordered, both of them sitting back as a drunken man fell onto their table; his body still for a short amount of time before he rolled off onto the floor. "You might be correct, but a life of a pirate is one filled only with treasure and the satisfaction of rising in the morning to look out onto the open sea. The only things you care about are your loyal crew, and your ship. Women are devils in disguise...beautiful creatures that master the art of deception the moment they are born."
"Aye, but ye be lost without them. Try to imagine your life without women, Jack. It would be terrible wouldn't it?"
The Captain sat there for a moment, trying to imagine such an occurrence. He tipped his flask back to his lips, and shivered slightly as pure warmth slid down his throat and into his stomach; his eyes focusing on something over Gibbs' shoulder that he really had no interest in. He tried to imagine what life would be like had he not met Angelica. Sure, she was nothing more than a young teenager, starving to marry herself to God when he met her, but there was potential in her that even he could see. She was always thin, and always beautiful, but below her delectable Spanish skin was pure muscle and ambition. There was a fire in her soul that would have been wasted on a path strictly devoted to worshiping some unseen God. And so, one night, he kissed her. He could recall that moment perfectly, for it stood out in his mind like a rich, English noblemen might stand out walking into the pub he was residing within. He had no intentions of using her; even in his mind, he saw her as a vision of innocence, but one night, resting with her under star light, it only seemed right to taste her lips. Simply touching his lips with hers that night brought an almost uncomfortable flutter to his stomach, which he had never experienced with any other encounter kissing a woman. Though, even more frightening than that, kissing her gave him the satisfaction that it seemed only sex would. Such truth was frightening, and still to this day, he never uttered those memories to anyone with the ability to hear.
"Jack!" Gibbs called, trying to gain his captain's attention. "Jack, are you alright?"
In truth, he wasn't. He refused to ever speak the words, but in all honesty, he missed Angelica. Her Spanish dialect was like pure honey against his ear, and as fights broke out around them within the pub, he would do anything to be able to hear that smooth, seductive voice against his cheek once more; drowning out the drunken slurs and idiotic statements. He could practically feel her in his arms again; sitting on the deck of her father's ship with her in his lap, speaking of past memories and future alliances in quick, hushed tones. "Yeah," he finally answered, his eyes closing momentarily as he tried to imagine the unique smell of her perfume. "I'm fine, Gibbs. I was simply imagining."
"Well, let's stop all that," his friend offered, nodding to one of the man carrying around a small barrel of rum to douse all of the patrons. He held their cups up and instantly they were filled and spilling over with delectable alcohol; a smile on their faces as they clinked their glasses together. "Cheers, to being a pirate."
Jack simply nodded, an appreciative smirk on his face as he nodded in concurrence and brought the rum to his lips. He didn't care about the feelings bubbling deep within his stomach, and he didn't care about the nagging need to wonder where she was that moment. This was his first night in Tortuga after another awe-inspiring adventure, and he'd be damned if he wasn't going to become so drunk that he wouldn't even be able to find his ship for the next three days.