The Devil's Temptress: The Curse of the Black Pearl || Jack Sparrow

XVII. The Key

When Jack had returned with the doctor, the ageing man had explained to Nicolette what exact state his daughter Evelyn had found her in and how he had gone about fixing it. She had felt Jack's eyes watching her carefully as she listened and he had remained just as caring as the Doctor said she was safe to leave his care given her fever had broken. Jack had helped her stand from the bed as if she were a China doll and basically carried her from the small house to the The Ol' Sailor where he had rented out a room for her for the next two weeks.

Imelda was a mess at first, seeing Nic all bruised, and then she became just as overbearing as Jack, if not more so, instructing the girl that she 'was not to leave the property for at least a week or else!' Not that Nicolette minded really. Her ribs still hurt like a bitch and she would rather not walk the streets looking like a spoiled painting.

That was four days ago now and Nicolette still hadn't had the chance to find Evelyn and thank her and she still had a very masculine nurse like presence watching her every move, although there was something else plaguing his mind too, she just hadn't worked out what it was yet.

On this particular evening, the eve of when Jack was due to leave Tortuga for an unknown destination, Nicolette sat with him at a small table in a dark hidden nook of the Sailor drinking to pass the time. He was looking over charts, ones she couldn't recall him ever going to collect from the Pearl or anywhere else for that matter, but the large pieces of parchment covered the table making her groan with annoyance each time she tried to put her drink down and Jack scowled at her.

"What exactly is it that you're doing?" She asked, taking a break from scanning the crowds. No one interesting was in for her to watch, a brawl hadn't broken out for at least twenty minutes now and they were so secluded she couldn't even get a little amusement from the whores who walked past their table to throw her jealous glances.

For her company being Jack Sparrow, the night was peculiarly boring.

"Tracking." He spoke so randomly and so long after her original question she forgot she had asked him anything in the first place and jumped, startled at the sound of his voice.

"And..." Nic trailed off, expecting a little more than a one word answer from him. "What is it that you are tracking?"

"Things." With a heavy groan and dramatic roll of her eyes, Nicolette slumped in her seat and sighed. When exactly did he become such a big dull dud? Is it what he was like on land?

She groaned again when her huff didn't emote anything from him and she started to ponder.

"When I get a ship, do you think I should go by Captain Barker, or Captain Barbossa?" Jack dropped his blunt chip of charcoal and looked to her. There was no way she could have known her question would have aroused a reaction from Jack, but she hoped and she would be lying if she said it didn't make her proud to know she could get a rise so easily which such little effort. "You know, I mean Barker's got a bite of it's own to it but all the good tales have a scorned widow don't they?" She rolled her eyes through the air, landing her pupils on Jack's blank face and pouting her lips. "No?"

Jack sucked on his cheeks, dark narrow eyes giving her a once over which she assumed was meant as a warning. "Barker...sounds better on the tongue love. And the image is a lot easier on the mind." She smirked but pursed her lips, making a high pitched squeak as she considered his input.

"Hmm, Nicolette Barbossa always was a mouthful." When she looked back at him, Jack had returned to reading the charts with such depth that he was once again otherwise deaf... "Oh what's wrong Jack you haven't been much fun at all these past few nights?"

Without missing a beat, Jack replied in a murmur.

"The occupants of the room next to yours would beg to differ." This time, Nicolette's face fell into a flat expression and the hint of a smirk came to his face as he watched her from the corner of his eye.