Pirates Of The Caribbean Fan Fiction ❯ A Pressing Engagement ❯ Chapter 1 ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean is property of Jerry Bruckheimer, Walt Disney Pictures and Gore Verbinski. All characters and locations belong to them; I am merely borrowing them and have made no money off of the production of this fanwork.

 

AN: Birthmas fic for Lady MacBeth

 

A Pressing Engagement

By LadyLark

 

Chapter 1 - In Which Jack Finds Himself in a Bad Situation

 

oOo

 

Jack Sparrow was in a bad situation and he knew it - which in and of itself said volumes. He clutched the tiller of the dinghy he purloined from an unwary fisherman like it was his only lifeline. In a way, it was; since it and the rope he had lashed around himself were the only things keeping him from flying into the drink with each massive wave.

 

Crossing the Straights of Florida during late August was a chancy proposition at best, but he had an appointment to keep. One he dare not be late for. So he ignored the tell-tale ache in his shoulder and cast off. Big mistake. He had been forty miles out when the first signs of a terrible blow made themselves known. Now a few hours later, it took all of his skill and strength to keep the dinghy from capsizing.

 

Fumbling at his waist, he pulled his compass up. Carefully he hunched over the mystical object and chanted, “I know what I want. I know what I want.” Opening the case with a sharp flick of his wrist, Jack watched the needle spin around aimlessly before pointing to the Southeast.

 

“But that's into the storm, you stupid piece of junk!” the pirate yelled shaking the compass. “I want to get out of this thing in one piece not die out here . . .” his voice trailed off as realization dawned. “Oh you sneak, been around Old Jack too long, `ave ye. You're beginning to pick up how I think.”

 

He closed the lid and let the navigation device go to dangle at his waist again. Using both arms, Jack pushed the tiller so that the small craft was facing into the storm and continued speaking to the compass attached to his belt. “Well, `ere we go. I'll have you know, that if this gamble of yours doesn't work out, I will never speak to you again.”

 

Ten minutes later, a large, dark form appeared in front of him, cutting through the tumultuous seas like a hot knife through butter. The ship pulled up along side his small craft and Jack held his breath in anticipation of what would happen next.

 

Appearing on the bow of the dinghy out of seemingly thin air was a figure all in black. It took a half step forward and intoned, “Do you fear death?”

 

Jack let out a small cackle. “Fear it? `Ave a ruddy complex about it. I mean, who wouldn't fear Death?”

 

“Jack!?” the figure exclaimed moving aft.

 

Ignoring the outburst, the pirate continued, “Did you know there was more than one Death? I didn't. Well, not originally. Now I know, and in knowing, I wish I didn't know what I knew, savvy?” he paused infinitesimally to give the other time to respond. When he didn't, Jack rambled on, “There are actually three Deaths. The first two aren't so bad but the third just makes me blood run cold, which is a little difficult, mind you, seeing as me blood is quite hot,” Jack said with a little wiggle of his hips. “The first is a gentle little girl with a penchant for tea. Lovely Death that. I wouldn't mind meeting her at the end. It'd be quite civil. The second is shrouded all in black and carries a scythe. To harvest your soul, if I should hazard a guess. Now normally he would be quite gruesome but he comes with these two Polynesian dancing girls. Dressed all in grass and coconuts they are. Now what bloke worth his name wouldn't mind an escort like that? Not me, mate. No, it's the third Death who makes me skin crawl.”

 

“Jack . . .” the man in black tried to interject.

 

However, the pirate ignored the figure. Jack was on a roll. “The third Death don't seem like much. Just a young man with blonde hair and light eyes. You wouldn't think to look at `im, but he has no heart. No soul. In his eyes, you see the very worst of you reflected back at you, savvy. And he takes pleasure in ending the lives of the most foul and despicable creatures around. It's him I see coming for me in my dreams.” Jack paused and looked at the other man. “So you ask if I fear Death? And I'll tell you, I don't just fear `im. I have a bleedin' phobia about ever encountering him.” He blinked once and then switched gears. “So Will, how's immortality been treating ye?”

 

“Fine,” Will Turner replied automatically, with a shake of his head. “Fine. What are you doing out in a hurricane? I'd have thought you would've avoided it.”

 

“Had a pressing engagement, mate,” Jack said, leaning toward his friend a bit.

 

Will sat down across from him. “I would hope whomever you are meeting would understand the delay.”

 

“They might and they might not. You never know what royalty is thinking these days. I'm not even sure if royalty knows what royalty is thinking. It gives me a royal headache to even think about it.” He started to stand up, only to be jerked back down by the rope that held him in the boat. “Bugger, that is going to leave a mark.”

 

Will threw back his head and laughed. “Ahhh Jack, I've missed you. We'll get you and your ship . . .” he trailed off as if noticing that they were standing in a small dinghy and not on the deck of the Black Pearl. “Jack, where's the Pearl?”

 

“It's a long story.”

 

“Barbossa stole it again, didn't he?” Will stated shrewdly.

 

Jack flinched slightly. “All in good time, mate. But first, I have a question of deathly importance.”

 

“Go on.”

 

“Do you have any rum? I seem to be fresh out.”

 

oOo

 

AN: As I stated before, this fic is a gift for Lady MacBeth for both her Birthday and Giftmas (which happen to fall on the same day.) It all started with the opening line and ran from there.

 

No pairings. This thing is likely to stay very gen although there may be a hint of things here and there. It is set about two years after the end of the third movie, if you missed that in the summary, so there will be stuff to be considered.

 

On the subject of the three deaths . . . I will give virtual cookies to those people who can figure out who I am making reference to.

 

Please let me know what you liked and disliked. Reviews fuel my passion to write. Long well thought out reviews make me all squishy inside and I tend to write more.

 

Special thanks go out to HostileCrayon for betaing this for me. She did a bang up job. And she's a pretty awesome writer to boot.

 

Thanks for reading!