Kindred Spirits

Chapter 11

Separate ways?

The next morning:

Devon stood at the railing of the Hazard, lazily picking her nails with one of her knives. The wound in her neck still stung a bit, but then again she was used to the sensation of pain. She wore a scarf around her neck, while concealed beneath it was a piece of clean cloth drenched in alcohol. She didn’t want anyone to know about her little run in with Sparrow the other night, but it had to be treated somehow. She really did need to have it stitched, but that was impossible since then she would get asked questions that she wasn’t too keen on answering. Maybe I should just do it myself then... she mused.

She was broken from her reverie by a warm tropical wind blowing through her hair. As the wind caught the sails she couldn’t help but look over to the majestic black ship that was the Pearl. She felt a strange feeling in the pits of her stomach as she saw the Pearl raise anchor. She saw AnaMaria on deck and began thinking how she was sailing off towards a new horizon just like she was. She fancied meeting her again soon, but the chance of that happening would be slim to none with oceans being as vast as they are. Even though she longed to meet up with AnaMaria, seeing her would mean seeing Sparrow, and that was something she would not enjoy. The man had gotten her raging with anger the other night when he called her a whore. She almost lost her temper completely and had been on the verge of another homicide. Luckily for Sparrow she walked away before further damaged could be done. She was nothing like a whore at all! Even if she were to be classified a whore, what would that make him? He was certainly no shred better than she was...

Speak o’ the Devil! There he be now...

Devon saw Jack on the other ship waving at her. ‘What a dumbass. As if I didn’t make myself perfectly clear the other night... Yeah, wave yer hand in that feminine way, ye stupid blighter. Devon Duville sure as hell ain’t wavin’ back.’ Even though she was rambling under her breath about Sparrow and his idiocies, it was just loud enough for Drake, who was standing just behind her, to hear. Naturally he thought her not-so-inner monologue amusing and found it very hard to contain his laughter. ‘Duville, I think the Captain’s waving at me, luv.’ Devon looked at her Captain with narrowed eyes, ‘I knew that!’

She leaned back on the railing again, attempting to polish her nails as she rubbed them on a sleeve of her blouse.

‘He’s really gotten under yer skin, hasn’t he?’ Drake inquired playfully.

Cut trough my skin is the more appropriate thing to say, Capt’n, she retorted, reverting to her inner monologue since Drake already caught her muttering today.

She gave him a venomous glare, her eyes glistening with fury. ‘Don’t piss me off, Drake! Even a Capt’n like yerself has borders he shouldn’t cross, ‘specially with me.’ She poked him in the chest with her index finger, then turned on her heel and stalked off calling Bullet to follow her. With her temper already riled up, she figured that the men could do with a little reminding as to who Miss Devon Duville is. With this in mind she barked at all the men on deck, ‘In case any one o’ ye are looking fer me in order to get me even more pissed, I’ll be in the armoury tending to ta guns and cannons. And I strongly suggest ye don’t follow. I’ve always had a hard time containing myself when it comes to inspecting the work I’ve done!’

Done with that little speech, the men watched her stride off with her nose high in the air. Out of the blue her boots got caught in one of the ropes on deck, sending her to the floor very ungracefully.

‘Ow! Bloody Hell!’ Devon hollered. ‘Can’t anyone of ye stupid, mangy, weasely blighters ever store those bleedin’ ropes in their proper place? Could have broken something there! Honestly... how annoying... really shouldn’t hurt this fucking much...’ Dee began cursing and muttering under her breath about the lack of responsibility in newly bred pirates.

‘Dee... Luv?’ Drake said trying to get her attention and stated calmly, ‘That would be YOUR job!’

Shredder almost wet himself once he finally let out his raucous laughter, having been chuckling silently since the beginning of Dee’s first tirade.

Dee got up swiftly, reaching for her dagger. ‘I could make ye regret that, Shred,’ she hissed holding the cold steel of her blade at his neck. ‘But I won’t ye see, because I’m such a generous person and all...’ her voice was dripping with venom as if she were daring him to give her a reason to hurt him. Even as she pulled away, her eyes were still raging with fire. She adjusted her black leather vest and picked little Bullet up. Instantly she felt its tongue licking her across the face. ‘There there, love. Mommy loves ye too... But don’t expect me ta lick ye! A little too much facial and back hair if ye ask me.’ She grinned down at the dog, but as she turned around her feet got tangled again and she started kicking wildly at the ropes. She put Bullet down and started tossing the ropes aside, untangling her feet from them. ‘Don’t just stand there ye louses! Get to work!’ With that she stormed off below decks, cursing and swearing like a mad woman.

‘What the HELL’s gott’n inta her?’ Dacosta said to no one in particular.

Drake smirked. ‘My guess is that a certain Captain our little angel has met recently made a bigger impression on her than she wants to admit, lad.’

He thought over Dee’s situation and attitude and chuckled lightly as he thought of her meeting with Sparrow. After a few moments he hollered, ‘Lift anchor and make ready to sail!’

The Eye climbed the ropes to the crows nest while the rest of the men aboard worked the ropes and the sails. The Hazard set course to the open sea, given the fact that Drake hadn’t decided where they would go yet.

While she was belowdecks, Devon cleaned the barrels of the cannons with a little too much rage, still cursing everything and everyone for existing. Gun powder residue was evident everywhere, and the black dirt covered her like a dark veil. She was completely covered in the soot, although it could not be seen on her leather vest since it was already black. She didn’t mind getting dirty as long as she could release her anger whilst doing it. What was it that she was angry about anyway? They were going to leave Tortuga, and as much as that saddened her, there was a whole ocean to explore and ships to pilfer. So what was the reason for her sudden outburst? Her thoughts turned again to Sparrow. Sparrow... Damn that man! He triggered something inside of her. Blast him! Who the hell did he think he was anyway? Pathetic drunk!

She sighed. It was better letting her anger out against the guns and cannons instead of taking it out on her fellow crewmates.

‘But why, Dee, why do ye even care? It’s not as if the idiot deserves ye thinking about him!’ she said thinking out loud to herself.

Oh GREAT, she was starting to talk to herself again! Perhaps all the rum and absinthe she had consumed in the past – and present, she thought with a grin – had caused some permanent form of brain damage. And why the hell was she doing thinking about Sparrow anyway?

Devon sat cross-legged on the dirty wooden floor and had just started assembling a few pistols when she heard footsteps down the corridor.

‘Oy, Duville! Supper’s ready!’ she heard Dacosta shout.

‘Not hungry, piss off!’ she hollered back. That was uncalled for, she knew, but she just felt the urge to verbally harass someone.

‘Suit yerself then!’ he barked, followed by a muttered, ‘Ye evil wench...’

‘I heard that!’ she commented throwing the nearest thing she could find in the direction of the door.

She heard his loud footsteps walking away from her. Bullet snorted as it shook itself. Devon looked at her dog, a small half smile forming on her lips. The little black and white dog was now completely black. She grinned while she pulled the dog onto her lap, stroking it gently behind the pointy ears. Oh Bullet you are the only man I care for. Don’t need any other. It’s just that you simply can’t aide me with some of the needs a woman like meself has sometimes... She thought as she pet her beloved dog. No man she knew could ever understand her as well as this little wrinkled fella she was holding right now. This one was loyal to her. This one knew her wicked ways and put up with them. And this one was the only male alive that she intended staying loyal to. ‘What would I ever do without you, my little wrinkled ball of muscle?’ She cupped Bullet’s head with her hands and kissed its nose. She set him down and tended to her tasks again – cleaning, dismantling and re-assembling every single gun with great precision. After she was done she felt tired and let herself fall back on the floor. Her legs had gone numb and so she closed her eyes for a moment.

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Meanwhile on the Pearl:

‘... and really bad eggs!’ Jack sang to himself whilst holding the wheel of his beloved ship firmly in his rugged hands. Gibbs walked up towards Jack taking a sip out of the flask he carried inside of his vest-pocket.

‘Where we be headin’ then Capt’n?’

Jack looked at the older man. ‘Port Royal! I’m gonna pay the Eunuch a visit. See how he’s holding up in that hoity-toity community.’

‘Are ye daft Jack? Ye’re still wanted there! Hell the whole damned Pearl, crew included, is wanted there! We’ll never even make it into the port.’

‘Are ye doubting my abilities, dear friend?’ Jack asked with narrowed eyes.

‘By the powers, I’m not Jack. Just wondering why the whelp is that important to ye, that be all.’

‘I have too many enemies as it is already, Gibbs, and one can never have too many friends. So I’d best keep the whelp on me good side, right? Port Royal it is!’

Gibbs walked over to the railing and tended to the ropes. Jack kept humming to himself whilst flashes of previous adventures with the whelp made their way into his thoughts. He grinned when he remembered being marooned on that little island with the lovely Elizabeth. Some attitude that lass had... But she is out of Duville's league. Devon would flog her if she had burned her rum. Possibly kill her with that temper o’ hers. That thought made a small grin form on his lips.

Now where the hell did that come from?! Jack jumped at the sudden turn his thoughts had taken, causing his trinkets to clash. As if ye could chase the thought of her away by making sudden movements... Honestly Jack, you know where these thoughts came from. Jack inwardly cursed his thoughts for always travelling back to the Hellcat, and cursed his mind as well for being correct about her lingering residence in his thoughts.

AnaMaria walked up to him, ‘What are ye doin’ Jack? Get bitten by something?’

‘No, just got nicked by it,’ he said matter-of-factly.

Ana rolled her eyes in exasperation, ‘Do ye ever give answers that actually make sense, Jack?’

‘Course I do. And ye keep forgetting the ‘Captain’, luv.’

‘As if ye ever LET anyone forget, EVER! Yer ego is the size of a bloody house! Just like Devon’s! Sometimes I wonder how I’ve managed to put up with ye for this long...’

‘With whom, the Hellcat or little ol’ me?’

‘BOTH OF YOU!’ she hissed and stalked off to tend the ropes.

Devon Duville... even her name sounded evil. Devil would be a more appropriate last name for that wicked wench. Quite the seductive, manipulative, homicidal vixen... How could he have fallen into her trap? He bit his lip in quiet frustration.

‘Damn that bitch!’ he shouted. ‘Now, where’s me rum?’

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Back on The Hazard:

Devon opened her eyes and tried stretching out her limbs, which made some of her bones crack. A tingling sensation ran though her legs, a stinging that felt like tiny little needle pricks. She blinked her dark blue eyes, trying to adjust them to the darkness surrounding her.

She was hungry. The sound of her own growling stomach had woken her up from another dreamless sleep. She stood up and began to climb the stairs in search of food. She looked up at the firmament, the cascading pinks, purples and oranges already filled the sky. Had she really been sleeping that long?

‘Fancy seein’ ye back in the land of the livin’ Dee.’

Johnson nudged her side, half to make sure she was aware of his presence and half to pull her away from her thoughts and into the land of living which he was speaking of. He fell into step with her, hoping she would be in a better mood than she was this morning.

‘Why are ye followin’ me? Have I got honey on me toosh?’ she grinned.

‘Not that I can see deary. Maybe if ye bend over a bit...’

‘Still can’t wait to jump me bones, eh?’ she winked. Yes, she was her old self again. Maybe all she really needed had been the good long sleep she had just awoken from.

‘Where are we headed for Johnny?’ she asked with curiosity, trying to make out their current location.

‘Port Royal... apparently the Capt’n has some business there.’

‘What kinda business?’

Johnson shrugged his shoulders.

‘Never did like that place much. Far too many wigs over there. The Brits just don’t have enough talent to create an extraordinary hairstyle by themselves. Lack of imagination, I guess.’

Johnson nodded in response.

‘Never seduced a wigged lobster before though... Gotta give that a go then don’t I?’

‘Do ye ever NOT think of men, Dee?’

‘Aye, but only when I have the pleasure of seeing yer handsome face, luv. Drowns the passion right out of me ye see.’ Ducking from his fist, she ran gleefully over to the mizzenmast.

‘Oy Jameson, in need of some company up there?’

‘Be my guest!’ he hollered down to her.

‘Have to grab a bite to eat first, won’t be long!’

She returned a few minutes later with a slice of buttered bread clenched between her teeth and two apples tucked in her pockets.

Climbing the ropes like a monkey she soon lifted herself onto her so called balcony.

‘Never get tired of the setting sun, I don’t,’ she whispered.

‘Beautiful sight, ain’t it?’

‘Ye sure ain’t called ‘The Eye’ fer nothing, Jameson,’ she said nudging him with her shoulders.

‘By the way ye look one could think ye did quite a lot of dreamin’.’

‘Had to catch up with me lack of sleep, but no dreams for as far as I can recall.’

Jameson yawned stretching his body.

‘And ye look a tad bit tired, mon ami. Want me ta take yer shift? I’ll be more than willing to...’ she offered.

Jameson contemplated for a moment and then agreed to take her offer.

‘Eat yer apple first, didn’t drag the heavy load all the way up here to eat all by me onesies.’

He took the green apple from her hand and took a large bite.

Devon was lazily munching on hers, lost in her thoughts. Wonder where he is... Where Ana is, I mean... never told me where he... SHE was headed to... The way he kissed... so eager, so ...

‘DEVON!!!’

She almost dropped her apple, ‘Huh?’

‘Ye aware of the fact ye were licking and suckin’ yer apple like it was... I dunno, anything BUT an apple?’

She felt her cheeks blush, but flatly answered, ‘Mighty juicy these ones are, mate.’

Oh Lord, she had been thinking about the idiot again.

WHY? WHY DOES GOD TORMENT ME THIS WAY?! WHAT COULD I EVER HAVE DONE WRONG??

As she tilted her head towards the sky again a seagull dropping landed between her breasts. ‘Point taken,’ she whispered softly towards the clouds.

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On the Pearl:

‘Gibbs, need ye ta take the helm.’ Jack called to Gibbs, his words slurring together quite spectacularly.

‘Turning in then, are ye?’

‘Aye, can barely keep me eyes open.’

Gibbs gave him a glare. ‘Maybe ye shouldn’t drink that much, Jack. Frightful bad luck to have an intoxicated Capt’n, it is.’

Jack reached for the collar of Gibb’s jacket, pulling him closer, ‘It would be far worse fer a Captain ta loose a perfectly capable crewmember over the subject of rum.’

‘Aye sir. At the helm I shall be.’ Gibbs knew not to get Jack angry while he was drunk.

Jack stumbled into his quarters, kicking off his boots and stripping himself naked. He let himself fall into the large bed and he emerged into a deep sleep almost instantly.

........A raven haired naked woman stepped into his bed with him, kissing his lips gently and tracing every scar and tattoo on his chest... Then she turned him on his back, kissing her way to his abdomen but stopped abruptly when she reached the crucial part. He moaned. He tried to pull her onto him, stroking her sides gently, but she pushed his hands away. She forcefully pinned him down on the bed, straddling him, clenching him between her naked thighs. He couldn’t see her face, because it was covered with leather wrapped braids. He tried to kiss her, but she turned her head away. His blood pumped trough his veins, he felt every muscle contract and relax again as she placed herself onto him, letting him slide inside of her..........

“Duville... I...”

He woke up in shock, sweaty and trembling. Subconsciously he rubbed the newly acquired wound on his arm.

‘Curse that woman fer existing!’ he barked into his empty quarters. ‘Can’t even get some decent sleep anymore...’

He decided sleep was not becoming him so he got dressed while he kept mumbling to himself.

He swayed onto the deck, going to take his place behind helm again. After sending Gibbs away, he took the wheel in his raw hands caressing the dark wood.

‘Now, bring me that horizon.’