Pirates Of The Caribbean Fan Fiction ❯ A Pressing Engagement ❯ Chapter 4 ( Chapter 4 )

A Pressing Engagement

By LadyLark

 

Chapter 4 - In Which Jack Takes a Tour

 

oOo

 

Cutler Beckett did think of something. But it wasn't the maiming, torture, and pain that Jack was expecting. Instead, he announced that he was taking Jack on a tour of the ship.

 

“Seen it before,” Jack stage whispered. “It didn't much impress me then.”

 

“Oh the Dutchman's much changed, I assure you. You would be quite astonished. I know I was when I was pulled on board,” Beckett confided.

 

“About that, weren't you all blown to pieces?” Jack asked, miming an explosion with his hands. “I know that is what I was trying to do on the Pearl and it looked like the boy was doing much the same. You look remarkably put together for being blown all to bits.”

 

A pained expression crossed the former lord's face. “You and Captain Turner did quite a thorough job of destroying me, although I don't believe it was quite in the way you intended.”

 

“How so?” Jack pried.

 

Beckett snorted. “You believe I would tell you so easily,” he chided. “You've forgotten the cardinal rule - never give anything away for free when you can make some profit on it.”

 

“It was worth a shot, never knew if being dead changed you.” Jack shrugged. “Still see you are a conniving, greedy, manipulative bastard as always.”

 

`Thank you,” Beckett murmured. “You always knew how to flatter a man.”

 

“It's a gift.” He said, sketching a mocking bow.

 

“Hm. Indeed.” Beckett opened the door to the cabin and motioned for Jack to go through it. “Shall we?”

 

“Do I `ave a choice?” Jack asked plaintively.

 

The former lord fixed him with a sharp look. “You always have a choice, Jack. But sometimes the things you have to choose from are not to your liking. Like right now you have a small array of choices laid before you. You can come with me on a tour of the ship or you can stay here in this cabin. Alone. With me.” He smiled then. “It's your choice.”

 

Jack swallowed at the thought. “I think I'll take the tour.”

 

“Excellent decision, Jack.”

 

“Right, so where to first.”

 

“This way.” Beckett motioned again and followed Jack into the hallway, closing the cabin behind him. “I thought you might like to see the crew's quarters first.”

 

“I don't fancy seeing hammocks and pallets, savvy. Seen `em before, I have. And they're not nearly as fun as personal and private cabins.”

 

“I see.”

 

“Best thing about being Captain. Well, one of the best things. They're others, you know.”

 

“Yes, I can imagine. Power in all of its forms does have its little . . . side benefits,” Beckett drawled.

 

Jack gave him a look of disgust. “Only you would look at it that way.”

 

Beckett smiled tightly. “And that is why I was a Lord and you were . . . something else.”

 

“Still managed to take you down,” Jack taunted, bouncing from foot to foot. “And I did it without any rum I might add.”

 

“Speaking of, it's been several hours since you came on board. Would you like some rum, I imagine you would be quite parched by now.”

 

“I'm not all that thirsty,” Jack said quickly.

 

Too quickly it turned out, since Beckett fixed him with a sharp glance. “Really, how odd.”

 

Jack thought about that for a moment. “You're right, `tis odd. I think this calls for a drink so I can mull it over.” He wasn't sure why he didn't want alcohol. After all, he had been craving it steadily ever since he was on the Dutchman that first time fifteen years prior.

 

Beckett raised an eyebrow. “I thought you just said-“

 

“Changed me mind,” Jack interrupted. He then made a sweeping motion with his hands. “Lead the way; I hear a bottle of rum calling my name.”

 

A small smile gracing his lips, Beckett did just that. Threading their way through the narrow halls, Jack once again was struck by how different the ship looked and smelled. It was a welcome change, but it wasn't one he wanted to get used to. He needed to get off of the ship and fast.

 

But that was always the crux of the problem with the Dutchman. Getting on the ship was easy. Getting off, well, that was another matter entirely. He glanced about, looking for a way to give Beckett the slip and found none. That meant he had to figure out a way to disable the other man, a man who trusted Jack about as much as Jack trusted Barbossa with his ship. Which is to say, not at all. This wasn't going to be easy.

 

They reached a locked storeroom at the end of a dark hallway and Jack began to get an idea. As Beckett fished out a key ring and unlocked the door, the pirate looked around furtively making sure that no other crew members were about. He was pleased to note none were. Putting his plan into motion, he set about to put the other man off his guard.

 

“Can you hurry up there a bit, mate? The lack of rum is beginning to make my head ache.”

 

Beckett shot him an annoyed glare. “You do realize that drinking less rum, not more, will solve that problem.”

 

“Not immediately,” Jack countered. “And I have to live with a dry mouth and sour stomach for days afterward, whereas the rum takes away all of those problems quickly.”

 

“If you want to drink yourself to death, who am I to stop you.”

 

“Ahhh, but I won't drink meself to death now will I? Seeing as I am already dead and all.” Jack paused and considered this for a moment. “You know this seems to be a disturbing pattern. I've been dead far more times than the average person. Interesting. You would think that death would stop trying by now seeing how it hasn't stuck.”

 

“I have no idea. I, myself, would have killed you years ago.”

 

“Yes, I know. Sticks in your craw, don't it,” the pirate taunted.

 

“Indeed.” Beckett said dryly, finishing unlocking the door. He pushed it open and motioned for Jack to follow. After the pirate passed through, the former lord closed and bolted the door.

 

Jack blinked in alarm. While he didn't want a passing member of the crew to see what he was planning to do, he didn't like being confined alone with Cutler Beckett. “Why all the security?”

 

“Despite being the ferry to the dead, many of the crew and passengers are still unnaturally attracted to rum, ale, grog as well as other alcoholic beverages, for all of the good it does them in the end,” Beckett drawled. “It wouldn't do for them to be shirking their duties or performing them poorly because they were indisposed. And as for the passengers, well, we only have so much stock aboard it wouldn't be prudent to waste it on them since they won't be needing it where they are going.”

 

“Then why have it on board? Not that I'm objecting, mind. But it seems like it would be a bit of a liability,” Jack asked.

 

“Bribery,” Beckett answered succinctly. “I tried suggesting that a ship's whore might serve just as well, and be far less messy in the long run. But, the captain would have none of it.” He paused and glanced slyly at Jack. “Your friend can be quite frightfully prudish. Reminds me of a certain young captain I once knew. Hopefully, Captain Turner's scruples won't get in the way like they did with that other captain.”

 

Jack grunted, acknowledging the sally, but he didn't bother to reply. He had made his peace long ago with his decision not to traffic in slaves, and even though it had cost him his ship, he still felt it was the right thing to do. But he knew Beckett would never understand that, and there was some small part of him that felt a twinge of regret that his former friendship with the man was now irreparable. However, the larger part of him was focused on his current predicament.

 

Scanning the storeroom, his eye lit upon a segmented box holding several bottles of dark rum. Time to start the show. “Ahh, my precious darling, be a love and come to old Jack!” he called exuberantly crossing the room to retrieve one of the bottles.

 

As he bent over, he glanced back under his arm to track Beckett's movements. The other man had walked away from the door and was surveying a different box. This was good. He didn't need a passing crewmember to hear the commotion that was certain to follow.

 

Jack grabbed two bottles of rum and uncorked one. He took a swig from the bottle and was surprised at how foul the drink tasted. He tried not to let the distaste show on his face too much, but Beckett noticed anyway.

 

“Is the rum not to your liking?” the former lord asked.

 

Jack sniffed the contents. “I think you have a bad batch here. Tastes a bit off to me,” he said morosely. Then decided to run with his plan anyway. “Here, you take a pull.” With only those words as warning, he tossed the bottle towards Beckett.

 

“I don't thi—“ Beckett started and then broke off in numb shock as the bottle came flying towards him.

 

Jack didn't wait to see if the other man managed to catch the rum or not. He clenched his hand around the neck of the other bottle of rum and ran forward, cracking the impromptu weapon against Beckett's temple. Cutler Beckett's eyes met his briefly before they rolled up into his head. Jack caught the Dutchman's pilot as he fell in reflex. Then, he looked down at the man in disgust and unceremoniously dropped him to the deck.

 

He rooted around the storeroom and on Beckett's person looking for something to gag and bind the man with. He found some twine and shoved a lace trimmed handkerchief into the man's mouth. Jack grabbed the keys and a few other random items from the man and then went to listen at the door.

 

All seemed quiet in the hallway, so he slipped into the passageway. He didn't bother to lock to door, thinking it would take too long to find the correct key, and tiptoed down the hall.

 

As he approached the stairs, he heard the howl of the gale above. Through the din, he could faintly make out the sounds of the sailors shouting at one another, but he couldn't make out the words. He listened intently but couldn't hear anyone moving near the entrance. He chanced a quick peek up the stairs and didn't see anyone stationed above. He shrugged, with the wind and rain if there were a guard, they would have likely been standing within the relative protection of the doorway. Since there wasn't one, they probably wasn't a guard. Even so, Jack carefully ascended the steps, making sure that they didn't creak too audibly.

 

When he reached the top, he once again paused to listen. He didn't hear anything out of the ordinary. However, he was struck by the relative calmness of the vessel itself. It wasn't lurching about like other ships had when he had been caught in storms like this before. He shrugged fatalistically; it didn't really matter how it worked. What it meant was that he didn't have to worry about being thrown off the side of the ship at an inopportune moment.

 

He slid around the doorframe, keeping his body flush to the wall. His eyes flicked around taking in the relative commotion on the deck. There were crewmembers shepherding several frightened people into the hold of the ship.

 

He watched as one woman made a break for the side of the ship, and the relative freedom of the sea below. Appearing out of seemingly nowhere, Will Turner stood in her way. Jack could see her screaming at the Dutchman's Captain and he presumed that there were likely tears streaming down her face, however in the rain they were impossible to make out. Will, to his credit, didn't just brush her off but looked to be actually listening to her rant, something Jack was certain he wouldn't be able to do. A small part of him was pleased that he hadn't taken the captaincy for himself, since he wasn't good at dealing with women, tearful or otherwise.

 

The dread-locked pirate shook his head. He didn't have the time to stand around daydreaming. With Will distracted by the distraught woman, he had the perfect opportunity to slip away unnoticed.

 

Jack tiptoed over to the port railing and looked to where the dinghy was secured next to the ship's rail. It was hanging in place of one of the Dutchman's own which was conveniently stowed so as to provide him with some cover. He grabbed the securing rope and unhooked it from the cleat and started lowering the boat into the water. Keeping a mindful eye on his task, Jack listened for sounds of alarm or of a sentry's approach. It was a good thing he did, because a few minutes later he heard the sound of boots coming from his right. He quickly wrapped the rope back around the cleat and slipped into the relative cover of the Dutchman's rowboat. Seconds later, the owner of the boots appeared and Jack had to stifle a gasp at the man's identity.

 

It was James Norrington. Jack swore under his breath. All of a sudden, getting off of the Dutchman became a hell of a lot more complicated.

 

oOo

 

AN: Yes, the ring made Jack want rum/alcohol. In the movie, the ring that Johnny Depp wore was ancient Greek in origin. Amethyst was used by the ancient Greeks to combat drunkenness. It makes sense that a cursed version would encourage drunkenness.

 

As I stated in earlier chapters, this is being written slowly but surely. The story has had over 7,000 words written on it since I started it in late December. There is one possibly two chapters remaining. So there isn't a lot to go.

 

I really am looking forward to hearing how this works for you. If you have any questions, feel free to ask them. Also if I am info-dumping or going OOC I'd like to know. I got distracted by how they stowed lifeboats on ships, and that is just what I know of.

 

Special thanks go out to HostileCrayon for betaing this for me.

 

Thanks for reading and reviewing!