Sea Change

Sea Change Chapter Three (NC-17)
Disclaimers Apply

A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta… *twirls * Yay, another one, lol… Readers/Reviewers: Sorry, a few days later than I intended, but the creeping crud tried to get hold of me… *GLOMP * Thank you all for your reviews and for reading this!

Myrtle felt hot and cold all at once. She did not know how it happened but she ended up with a cutlass hanging from her hip. One of the men had shoved a hat on her head, her newly short hair tucked atop her head. The lack of the familiar weight still startled her when she raked her fingers through the barely-shoulder length strands but for now, she was grateful Anna Maria had encouraged her to cut it. It was easier to pass as male in port this way, easier to pass as male now as they were boarded by the pirates from The Pearl. Jack had not boarded yet and, she comforted herself, he might not. Sometimes, she had been told, the Captain never left their ship. Her comfort was short lived, however, at the sight of the man swaggering down the plank behind Gibbs. His hat purposefully askew, his belt slung low and fingers smoothing his mustache as he stepped down onto the deck, his dark eyes searching the line of sailors. Myrtle swallowed hard an ducked her head. Beside her, she heard Anna Maria chuckle low in her throat, a dark and rich sound that inspired both envy and fear. For one blazing moment, Myrtle wished she had Anna Maria’s certainty of life, her ease with the men in all aspects, her commanding presence… “Meep,” she heard herself breathe as Jack’s slow, booted tread, one she could recognize above all others, made it’s way towards Anna Marai. _Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look… _
“Captain,” he murmured, stroking one hand down his beard, the other tucked into his wide leather belt. “I see you’ve taken on some crew,” he added.
Myrtle could feel his gaze sweeping over her. She held her breath, wishing she had bound her breasts better that morning. As it was, her bosom ached from the strips of muslin tied around her chest and the mounds of flesh were pressed as flat as possible without making her cry. Beside her, Anna Maria did not laugh but she elbowed her as she reached out to take Jack’s offered hand. “Captain,” the older woman said in her strident, rich tones. “Welcome to the Sea Witch.”
“Beautiful,” he said in a tone that made Myrtle shiver. _Stop it! _ she ordered herself. _You’re a pirate now, not some simpering school girl. All men are good for is a tumble in the bunks and that’s it! Jack is just a man. Get over him! _ “I’d love to see more of her,” he added in his characteristic slur, bowing with a sweep of his hat. Myrtle did not look at him but she knew exactly what his face looked like in that moment, the glint of golden teeth and swarthy skin, the beads and charms looped into his beard and hair… She closed her eyes and tried to will him past her, tried to force Anna Maria to take his arm and lead him into the hold for the start of the tour. Instead, she felt a too-familiar finger under her rounded chin, forcing her face gently upwards. “New first mate, Anna Maria?”
Anna Maria snorted. “Just new, Jack.” She glanced at her assembled crew, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “Don’t just stand there lazing about! Run my ship!” she barked, breaking away from her company and striding towards the foredeck.
Myrtle mentally cursed the other woman, knowing full and well that she had done that because she found it amusing to leave her alone with Jack, even if alone was on the middle of a semi-crowded ship. “Hello,” she said finally, acutely aware of his finger still under her chin, warm and rough against her soft flesh.
“Mmmm.” He pierced her with his eyes, staring into hers, searching for something he was not sure of. He had imagined seeing her again many times, usually in the dead of night when the ocean teased against the hull and he could see the thick stars in the dark sky. He had numerous fantasies, all of them seeming to involve her in a frothy white gown, running down the pier to meet him in a way that he knew full and well she would never do. But in all of his fantasies, he had never once imagined her on Anna Maria’s ship. Especially not as a crew member. If he had been a religious man, he would have seen this as a sign from his deity of choice. “Show me around the ship then, dove. I can’t stand in the hot sun all day.”
Myrtle blinked, surprised to find her eyes suddenly dry. She had been staring, and this knowledge made her face burn with embarrassment. “Let me find one of the crewmen who’s been here longer show you,” she began, but found herself captured, his long and agile fingers wrapped loosely around her plump wrist. She felt her blush grow even more furious. “Or not.”
Jack smiled in what he knew to be a disarming manner, sketching a half-bow, spreading his fingers over his heard as he did so. “As it pleases milady…”
“Don’t,” Myrtle hissed before she could stop herself. “Please don’t draw attention!”
Jack raised a brow but released her wrist, straightening to his usual posture. He glanced around and noticed that not a few eyes were watching them, Myrtle in particular. Of course, he thought bitterly. She was the newest crew member, or one of them anyway, and as such subject to scrutiny and ridicule and worse at the hands of the more seasoned crew. Some captains encouraged it, saying it made secured the pecking order and never let anyone get above their place, but Jack found it ridiculous, especially when a crew needed to work together in order to have a safe ship and good journey. He had thought Anna Maria felt the same way. “Are they bothering you, dove?” he murmured, keeping pace with Myrtle as she turned away and started towards the hatch leading down to the hold. The notion made his skin crawl and his fingers itch to reach for his short sword.
“No,” she replied tersely, and this time he caught the direction of her gaze. A blond youth, younger than she but old enough to know the ways of the world. The blond regarded Myrtle openly, his eyes never once leaving her face until she disappeared down into the hold. Jack stood on deck a moment longer, staring in return until the blond boy’s eyes widened and shifted away, focusing on his tasks. Captain Jack Sparrow felt an unaccustomed pang low in his belly, worming it’s way to his chest. _Bad salt tack _ he told himself, easing the feeling by not naming it. He glanced once more at the blond and dropped himself down the hatch. He did not like this a bit.