Adeena Cole and the Dead Man's Chest

Chapter Seven

I fiddled with my locket, listening to Gibbs interrogate the candidates that Jack would be selling to Davy Jones.

Jack. Just his name made my throat burn, my heart melt, my anger simmer, my brain go fuzzy. I was so mad and upset and confused I had just decided to not think about it. It wasn't working too well.

"I've always wanted to sail the sea," One man stated. He seemed a bit too sentimental to be a pirate, a little too kind. "Always. Forever."

"Sooner than you think," Gibbs said patiently. "Sign the roster."

The newest addition to our crew nodded his thanks and scribbled his signature onto the dirty parchment. I unsheathed my sword and studied it, wanting something to do.

"I know what I want. I know what I want." Jack chanted, shaking his compass. He opened it, a hopeful expression on his face, but his eyes hardened and he slammed it shut in frustration. He sent me a glance, but when he saw me looking, he stuck out his tongue.

"Something wrong, Jackie?" I asked dryly. He glared at me with such hatred that I had to look away. Who knew one fight could turn into such a crossfire.

"I'm drunk for a month, me wife ran off with the dog, and I don't give a rat's ass whether I live or die!" Another pirate announced to Gibbs. I stifled a laugh.

"Ye'll do," Gibbs said, amusement etched into his tones. I took his bottle of rum and drank from it, not caring where it had been or that he was staring dangers at me.

"How're we doin'?" Jack asked after pocketing his stupid navigational tool.

"Including those four?" I asked. "Four." Jack rolled his eyes and sat back again.

Another dirty man walked up to us. I studied him without interest, until I met his eyes.

Oh, no...

"What's your story?" Gibbs asked him.

"My story," He drawled, that familiar deep monotone unnerving me beyond belief. I glanced nervously back at Jack, who was staring off into space with that oh-shit-I-know-that-voice expression.

Gibbs motioned for him to continue. "My story is the same as your story, just one chapter behind." Gibbs frowned and leaned forward. "I chased a man across the seven seas...and it cost me my career, my commission...and my life." He took the bottle Gibbs and I had been 'sharing' and took a long drink.

Jack stood and grabbed a palm frond off of a nearby plant. He attempted to make his escape, tottering across the room behind the leaves.

"Commodore?" Gibbs asked in disbelief.

"No, not anymore, weren't you listening?" James Norrington asked. "I nearly had all of you off of Tripoli. And I would've, too, if not for that hurricane!"

Gibbs gasped. "You didn't try to sail through it?"

I shrugged. "Your fault! Where we're going, you won't be able to handle it if you make rotten, drunk decisions..."

His gaze snapped to me. "Oh, yes?" His voice was murderous. "You haven't said where you're going. Somewhere nice?" At his last words, he flipped the table and Gibbs and I jumped back frantically, worry evident in our faces. The whole bar descended into a apprehensive silence and everyone turned to watch.

"So, am I worthy to crew under Captain, Jack, Sparrow?" He pulled out his pistol and aimed at Jack's head. I squealed and jumped forward, my sword drawn. I remembered my anger at Jack at the last minute and hesitated. Jack glanced at me, hurt reflected in his beautiful chocolate eyes.