246Oki, this is my first fic, so please be nice!– Note charrie's weird last name: protecting the innocent :feels proud:...Please pardon the first chapter–I always suck at beginnings...Enjoy, and please R&R!
Disclaimer: I own nothing :sticks tongue out at mouse: not even my own imagination. So I'm just gonna do the beaver dance and let you read. :starts dancing: Xd
Chapter One: Forward to the Past
An average Friday night? Maybe for someone other than Amy Xyphir. It may have started out average, with the routine horseback riding lesson, but from there things didn't go quite... according to plan.
Instead of going out to dinner, as usual, Amy and her mother went directly home. From there, everyone in the family left–all having eaten dinner at some earlier point. So they murmured goodbyes for the evening–her family would not be returning until long after she was asleep...or so they hoped: she didn't stick to that too often, though. "Bye, Mom. Bye, Dad, Lauren...when will you be back?" she asked, as always, so she'd know when to hurry to bed without getting caught up late. She was fifteen, but that didn't stop her parents from putting a damper on her late nights.
"Tennish," "Ten-thirtyish," they answered. Amy smiled inwardly to herself. Plenty of time. So yeah, they said their goodbyes and went on their way. No sooner had they pulled out of the driveway than she had the DVD player turned on and inserted her favorite DVD: Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl ((obviously!)). And then she was off, mouthing all the lines from every character and even mimicking a few of the hand motions.
Two hours and roughly twenty-seven minutes later–allowing a few minutes after the Easter egg to put everything away and head upstairs–she had curled up in bed, random thoughts and stories passing in and out of her mind. It was a while before she fell asleep, but her overactive imagination had kept her well entertained all the while. And even in her dreams–of which there were many, tonight–the clang of swords and the crash of waves echoed in her ears. One dream in particular, the final dream, stood out from the others. She was standing in the crow's nest, observing through a spyglass a new island, one still left uncharted. Captain Sparrow was bringing them there for their shore leave–only the crew of the Black Pearl knew of it and its location. It was beautiful through the glass, and she could only sigh in awe at its serenity. Hardly the place for pirates. And yet at the same time it was perfect, at least for now. With no towns or civilization, there was no place to barter, trade, or spend coinage of any kind. But it was at the crew's request that they came. The Pearl's black sails billowed full, and the breeze was refreshing and sweet-scented, reminding her of its cornucopia of fruits, coconuts, and fragrant plants...and rum. Can't forget about the seven wonders of the world: Rum Caches one through seven, savvy. Amy closed the glass and made her way down to the deck. Before Jack even ordered the anchor dropped, she dove off the bulwarks toward the startlingly blue sea.
Amy gasped as warm water hit her with the solidity of a fully-loaded Coke truck, and opened the eyes she had not remembered closing. Instantly, she closed her mouth, trying not to inhale the water. Clawing her way toward the light of the sun, she broke through the surface and gasped for air, relieving her burning lungs. When she had calmed some, she blinked the water out of her eyes and looked around. Everything was blurry, and she realized her glasses had fallen off with the impact. Flailing her arms and legs about, Amy finally felt them hit one of her shins and fished them out. They were so wet, though, that they wouldn't be of much use to her. Clutching them in her fist, and treading water once again, she looked around-unlike some of her friends, she could see relatively well without her glasses. She noticed the sea around her, first, which is obvious. And next, she noticed a black hull nearby. Letting her eyes drift upward toward the blinding sunlight, she saw black sails and many filthy faces staring down at her in wonder. Knowing where she was excited her beyond excitement, but pirates were pirates, she reminded herself, and she began swimming away, off in the direction in which she remembered the island being. But before she knew it, she heard a splash as a boat was lowered into the water, and found herself being hauled into a dory and being rowed back to the ship. Amy did not look at the faces of the pirates, mostly so she wouldn't recognize any of them. If she did, she feared she might lure herself into a false sense of security. Instead, she stared at her waterlogged lap, noticing she was still in her night clothes: blue and green flannel pants and a black spandex/cotton tank top with light blue lining. Her light brown hair was hanging in her face, and she thanked herself for forgetting to remove the red scrunchie from her wrist before going to sleep. She pulled her hair back, and finally allowed herself a glance at her 'rescuers.' They were watching her with interest, understanding what she was doing with her hair, but not what with. What, no elastic yet? Amy asked herself, laying her hands back in her lap and looking ahead toward their destination.
Still, though she liked the quiet, the silence there was awkward, oppressive. Trying to keep herself from growing red with impatience, she began to sing a much familiar song: Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me! We pillage, plunder, we rifle and loot, drink up, me 'earties, yo ho! We kidnap and ravage and don't give a hoot, drink up, me 'hearties, yo ho!
One of the sailors smiled, and another hummed the tune along with her. It wasn't long before they bumped lightly against the Pearl's hull. A rope was thrown over her side, and one by one, the pirates began to ascend. Finally, when it came time for Amy to go as well, the last of the pirates moved to help her. Not letting herself trust him, she just shook her head and said, "No, I can manage on my own...thanks for the offer, though." And she climbed up as well, wondering what would become of her as her feet hit the deck. Off balance, she let herself collapse to a sitting position with a sigh, only now noticing how exhausted she felt. She closed her eyes momentarily, ready to return to her slumber right where she was. Moments later, she felt more than saw the shadow fall over her, and opened her brown eyes to meet a pair of kohl-rimmed eyes what were also brown and somewhat concerned. "Nice night for a swim, eh, Jack?" she murmured, resting her head against the bulwarks and drifting off.
Noting that the girl was obviously tired, the man let her sleep and did not try to rouse her. He straightened up from the crouch he had just been in and let his gaze drift over the rest of her. How strangely she was dressed! From the looks of things, at least in that era, she looked to be in her undergarments. "Gibbs," he called, "fetch her a towel." He would leave her there, at least for a little while, anyway. He did not know if she could be trusted yet, and wanted to keep herclose byuntil he had time away from the wheel–which wouldn't be very long: Rumsweet Island, as they called it, was only a few hours' sailing distance away. He wanted to keep this strange girl within his sights, and at her current position, he could watch her easily from his place at the helm. Gibbs returned with that towel, and the captain wrapped it around the girl's shoulders in an effort to cover her up some before returning to the wheel.
Afternoon became evening, and the Pearl sailed smoothly into the shallows of her secret isle. Just as young Amy stirred, Jack ordered the anchor dropped. Yawning, the girl opened her eyes. She blinked a few times, then picked up the glasses she had in her lap. Cleaning them on her now-dry night-shirt and placing them safely on the bridge of her nose, she stared forward sightlessly, lost in her thoughts. Yawning once more and waking fully, a look of startled surprise crossed her face as she looked around before she remembered what happened. Jack watched her thoughtfully as the better part of his crew readied the boats and rowed toward their island, leaving the rest to keep watch in the unlikely event that someone found or attacked them. He turned away and watched the wavelets caress the island's shores. He desperately longed to disembark and return to his rum and paradise–and rum–but did not want to leave the girl alone nor bring her along until he got some answers out of her. He was suddenly aware of another presence nearby and looked to see the lass leaning over the bulwarks beside him, admiring the land as he was.
Amy wasn't able to get near the ocean like this very often–sometimes only once a year–but when she did get the chance, it always mesmerized her. In fact, she did some of her best thinking standing in the surf, staring out to the horizon, lost in thoughts and daydreams. "It's beautiful," she sighed half to herself. "But then again, it's just as I always imagined it would be." She carried an accent of one of the colonies, he was sure of it. How strangely she was dressed, he noted again before mentally averting his attention. Who was he to care, he reminded dressed quite strangely himself, after all.
"Alright, lass, I think there are a few things you'll need to share before we do anything," he finally said.
"Oki...what all ye need to know?"
"For starters, how's about yer name, love?"
"Amy..." was all she answered with. Don't trust him! she reminded herself.
"...Latin for adorable, correct?" She glared at him, but that only widened his grin. "Well, then, would you mind explaining to me how...er, what exactly...why you were taking a swim this morning?" he finished lamely.
"Oh, no reason really. I've always wanted to fall out of my bed and into the Caribbean in the middle of the night!" she snapped, her tone sarcastic.
"But it's not–."
"Oki, maybe it isn't midnight here, but I assure you, before I took that dip, I was asleep in my bed in the twenty-first century in what is probably another dimension. Savvy?" Wait–wasn't that Jack's word?
He stared at her suspiciously. He focused on her eyes and drew what he could from them, and was surprised when she evenly met his gaze: a rare occurrence. Her eyes were deep and expressive, making it easy for him to look for any and all possible signs of childish play or untruth and found none, noting with slight alarm that there was a lack of distrust. Therefore, he resolved to trust her. "And how is it that you came to be here?–More to the point, you don't seem familiar. So how is it ye know me name?"
"Well, do you know Will Turner and Elizabeth Swann yet, or is this before that?" she asked. Noting his untrusting expression, she added, "It's pertinent to my explanation. You see, if I explain everything, it has to make sense, now, doesn't it?"
Comprehension flowed over his features. "Aye, I know 'em."
"Well..." and so she explained the movie and the events that occurred in it, which was how she knew him of course, and then the dream she had seemingly fallen out of. "Are you following any of this?"
"Good question..." Jack sighed. "One I'm not sure I know the answer to."
"Eh?" the girl tilted her head to one side. "Is it that you get most of it but a little doesn't make sense, or that you get some of it and some not, or is it just that you get a little of it but not most of it?"Jack looked at her confusedly again before composing himself and deciding not to answer. "Get what you needed, or is there more?"
Jack thought a moment. "There's more: your age. How old be ye, and where from in terms of location?"
"I am my age and I'm from where I came from."
Jack nodded understandingly. "Aye. Now, let's try that again, shall we? Just a bit more specific this time if you please, love."
"Why? Why should I tell you?"
"For the same reason you answered all the others: I won't grant you free passage nor guarantee your safety if you don't."
Though her face remained calm, an alarmed look entered her eyes and she answered without another word. "Fifteen, and Philly."
"Philly? Philadelphia?" She nodded silently, still holding his gaze.
"Got enough yet, Capitaine?" He nodded. "Good...oh, that damn beaver song is stuck in my head again!" Amy groaned.
"Beaver song? There's a new one. Let's hear it."
"Wha? No, I'd rather not, or I'll never be rid of it."
"Come on, no one else left save for you and I to hear. Let's have it."
"I'll make you regret those words," she warned ominously before taking on a perky tone–Jack hated perky–and chanting, "Beaver one, beaver all, let's all do the beaver call!" and chirping–squeaking?–well, some kind of sound between verses and to the same beat... "Beaver two, beaver three, let's all climb the beaver tree!"–there was that chattering noise again–"Beaver four, beaver five, let's all do the beaver dive :chorus: Beaver six, beaver seven, let's all go to beaver heaven :chorus: Beaver eight, beaver nine, stop! It's beaver time! There, happy?"
"Remind me again why I asked to hear it."
"Coke truck. Would you like extra Rabies with that? Wait–sorry. That was meant to stay in my head." Jack raised an eyebrow. "Random Impulsive Disorder–a nonexistent condition I seem to show signs of having."
"A condition? A mental condition?" asked Jack, once again questioning her sanity.
"Yeah–one I happened to make up. No worries, it's not real. I just happen to say random things at random times, savvy? Now that we got that out of the way, what do you say? Will I at least be safe aboard your vessel, Captain?"
This was a very strange girl indeed, and it made Jack wonder what her world must be like, and again if this other world was real or if she was just insane. Yet for some reason, he felt responsible for her. "Aye," he agreed. "And free passage as well. Now, tomorrow we will go ashore." Amy yawned again. "Come on, now, I'll show you your quarters–" he stopped himself. He hadn't told his crew anything yet. Anyone still aboard could pose a threat, and him just now promising her safety! He shook his head. "Never mind, just follow me." He led her to his cabin and showed her in. He strode over to one of his chests and dug through it, finally pulling out a hammock. "Will this do?" he asked, not sure whether he was speaking to an urchin or a lady.
The lass shrugged. "I've never slept in a hammock before."
Jack grinned slightly. "Now would be the perfect chance, then, aye?" He set up the hammock directly across the cabin from his bunk–just so he could keep an eye one her. "Now get some sleep. I'll be back in just a bit." He headed for the door.
Amy nodded, her eyelids feeling heavy, and curled up in the hammock, and was soon fast asleep.
XxXxXxXxXxX
She awoke with a start as sunlight through the window hit her full in the face. There was Jack, asleep in his bunk, his back facing her. Wow...having a sleep-over with a fictional character, she thought to herself. She lay back in the hammock and relaxed into the slight pitch and roll as gentle waves caressed the Black Pearl's hull. Moments later, she emerged from the cabin, moving silently so as not to wake Jack. Stepping into the brilliant sunlight, she took in the salty air she had always loved. She leaned over the bulwarks again and observed the island–observing was one of her stronger points. After a while, she heard boots on the timbers behind her and turned to see Jack approaching. "Good morning, Captain Sparrow. Sleep well?"
"Well enough. Are you ready to visit our island?" Amy nodded enthusiastically. "Well, before you can do that, we need to get you out of those clothes."