Never Say Die

7. Rum, Shellfish and Song

by

Hippediva and Elessil

"Let fly where? Madagascar?" Jack hauled himself to the crossjack and perched like his namesake.

Barbossa laughed. "Then take in th' mizzentop."

"Hector, luv, you been in that rum too long. Yer seeing double! We've only one mast." Jack chortled, his head thrown back to the faint wind.

At the wheel, James cleared his throat. "We already decided we did not need one figurehead; we certainly have no use for two." The Calypso flew by herself, and sometimes, he wondered if he moved the rudder or if the rudder moved him. There was little to do, but enough to at least make oneself look useful. They showed no inclination whatsoever, instead trading insults in a good-natured manner.

Exceptionally good-natured, considering that not an hour ago, they'd drawn their pistols on each other. Perhaps 'people trying to kill me' was the definition of 'friend' to Jack.

James laughed softly. Strange to think that. That he'd consider calling Jack a friend after their ventures. Ventures that were not over and he knew not why he'd joined. Immortality? For certain, he was relieved to be alive, wondering if his memory was a flight of fancy until, in secrecy, his hand had slid under his shirt to ghost over the hard ridges of a scar.

But immortality? That was entirely different from being alive; that was interfering with God and nature, that was presuming upon one's own importance to n a preposterous level. Of course Sparrow would. James grimaced. Who could, in confidence, say the world was a better place for their presence?

He thought himself a good man, despite all his mistakes. Despite his best intentions, he'd oft enough chosen the wrong path. He would miss the world, but could he dare presume the world would miss him?

A shudder ran down his spine and he looked up, fiddling with his shirt to shake out the offensive peanut. "Jack. Stop throwing peanuts at Jack."

"Why not? 'S fun t'make him scurry." The two Jacks had been needling each other almost as much as Sparrow and Barbossa. Denied the opportunity to use the small simian as a personal target, Jack satisfied himself with terrorising it and the monkey terrorised him right back, much to its owner's amusement.

"Are ya roostin' up there, Jack? Or sneakin' a bit of friggin'?" Barbossa cracked peanuts for the monkey and fed it with as much cooing as a fashionable lady with one of those horrid little dogs. Jack threw another peanut at them both.

"Ha! Like that time ya got yerself stuck in th—"

"SPARROW, shut it!" The peanut shells went flying and Jack laughed. The seas still looked like the fen country, patches of fog lowering over green-black water. There was little wind, but the current was strong and Jack preferred being aloft to enduring the stink of brackish water, worse than any bilges.

"Yes, Jack, here ya go. Good l'il boy!" The monkey was nibbling out of Barbossa's hand and glancing nervously up at its nemesis.

Beyond the fetid waters, they could see nothing. Any horizon was lost in the fog and the skies were nearly the same colour, a sickly green-grey fraught with haze.

Darkness settled around them, dusk ending the sun's fight against the mist. James squinted once more at the compass and the needle shuddered, the wheel with it. With a frown, he loosened his hold. Their course held, the Calypso flying across the waters without any hand to steer her, as though she felt the same thrum he did, a calling to whatever was their destination.

"Sparrow, did you swallow a magnet?"

"Why're you yellin'?" Jack was right behind him. "An' not to my knowledge, altho' you never know wot yer eatin' these days." It was a mark of Jack's estimation that he was trusting his precious compass with James. He had already made quite sure to hide the crab's bottle. Its inhabitant did not seem to mind much and he had enough to worry about with the chart.

"Knowin' Jack, he prob'ly made a meal of 'em. How'd ya think he lost all those teeth?" Barbossa yawned. "Goin' below fer a bit o' shuteye." He swung to his feet, the monkey cradled in the crook of his arm, and disappeared.

Jack stuck out his tongue at them and made a very rude gesture with one hand, the other reaching for the rum. "I suppose we must put up wif his stink on th' sheets."

"Unless you wash, yes." James eased his hold on the wheel, then let it go. The Calypso held steadily on course. "I believe we are past the point of no return."

Jack stretched himself out on the deck. "James, it is my professional opinion that we were past that before we started." He grinned as he lit the single lamp. "It is also my professional opinion that you can tie off th' wheel. Seems she knows where she's goin'."

James arched his brow. "Sparrow, I do believe I have no desire to know how long you are past washing." Once more, he glanced at the compass. The needle shuddered and he quickly snapped it shut before it could determine whether there really were any magnets in the pirate's stomach. He tied off the helm, eased himself to the deck and held out one hand expectantly.

Jack passed the ever-present bottle and used the moment to sniff at himself. "I fail to see how I'm offendin' that badly."

"Ah, I understand the problem. Sparrow, one does not LOOK for stench. It is the nose, not the eyes that are offended."

Jack shook his head with a faint clatter. " If thine eye offend thee, pluck it out? If thy nose offend thee, pick it? Honestly, yer as prickly as a cactus. Bad enough I'm not gonna sleep a wink with Hector aboard."

James ducked the reindeer shinbone. "You are the one with sharp items attached to yourself."

Jack treated him to his best grin and fetched the bottle back. "I meant that! Don't know how I'll manage. An' I like my sharp items as you so delicately refer to 'em." He almost said "you did too' but stifled himself with another guzzle.

"He will doublecross you again, won't he?" James asked quietly, frowning at the deck.

Jack nodded. "Aye, any chance he can." He heaved a sigh and drowned it in more rum. "I'll just have to keep a weather eye, won't I?"

"Or not get too drunk. Give me that."

Jack handed it over with a faint belch. "Least o' my worries, mate. I don't like sharing a berth with him any more than I'd like sharin' one wif... Hades. Given our history, I don't think I'm far wrong t'say he'll try to nick the chart an' prob'ly try to kill me a few more times."

"In all fairness, you did kill him first."

"An' I don't plan on waitin' a decade to do it again," Jack grumbled.

James laughed softly, hiding a shudder in another swallow. "That would be the disadvantage of death being a relative term."

"Long as I get 'im first, I don't care who its relatives are."

James snorted. "You killed him. He brought you back. Incestuous lot, it would seem."

"He did NOT! He only navigated. An' navigatin' is not at all to say he wanted t'bring me back fer any altruistic reasons." Jack blew into the bottle and amused himself making noise for a moment before handing it back to James.

"And how did I get back?" James' voice was low and he turned the bottle in his hands before looking up, into Jack's eyes.

Jack hid a scowl behind a laugh. "Well, luv, I guess you didn't go to any peaceful rest an' there's no tellin' wot can happen when ya've got the likes o' Jones an' his piscidalous crew."

"I'm thinking more in the direction of you and your crabby crew."

"Wot? An' I do NOT have crabs!" Jack shifted uncomfortably.

"I should hope not." James grimaced. "But you do keep one in a bottle."

"Old keepsake. Very precious to me that is. Sentimental value." Jack eyed James and squirmed again.

James wordlessly arched an eyebrow.

Jack toyed with one of his hair trinkets and tried to ignore it.

James straightened his spine, the green eyes narrowing and glinting, fixed unflinchingly on Jack's.

Jack blinked innocently and whistled a scrap of a tune.

The sound of James' breath was unnaturally loud.

Jack wriggled around, suddenly very interested in the wood grain of the deck.

The silence hung like a thundercloud between them until Jack grinned brightly. "Wot were ya sayin', luv?"

"Crab." James' voice was low and deceptively smooth, the green staring eyes strangely dark.

"Lovely wif a bit o' drawn butter. I know a place in the Colonies, makes the damned best she crab soup I've ever tasted."

James' eyes narrowed further.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Awright. Let's see. Wherever should I start? How 'bout th' beginnin', aye? Well, long, long time ago, back when the Greeks were still wanderin' round the Mediterranean wif striped sails an' no riggin' t'speak of, there was this goddess. She had a terrible weakness fer sailors. Human sailors, I mean. After all, wouldn't be much of a story if she were only interested in god sailors, would it? She kept popping herself into a human body—a very attractive an' feminine sort o' human body, of course—an' doin' all sorts o' scandalous things wif 'em." Jack preened, twirling his moustache. "I suppose if a goddess thinks us sailors 're worth puttin' up wif bein' human, yer average run-o'-th'-mill ordinary female would too. Funny, innit?"

James removed his gaze from Jack's face very briefly, looking down to his waist and arching an eyebrow, then looked up again. "Calypso. What about her?"

"Oh you know 'er! Wonderful. Lovely gal, eh? Brilliant conversationalist an' marvellous inventive, as it were. Well, she never stops takin' up wif sailors. Years and years an' years, an' she picks one, then another, then another. She just can't get enough of us. Maybe it's because we understan' things that are perfectly understandable t' her, bein' a sea goddess an' all."

James cleared his throat. "Such as the delights of crab soup?"

Jack had warmed to his story and actually started to get interested himself. "She-crab soup woulda been a rude suggestion. I mean, ya wouldn't go to see the Queen an' suggest that she'd be better off as a puddin', would ya? Yer interruptin'. Maybe it's the sea itself, maybe the smell o' the brine and the winds an' currents, the way it always changes an' yet stays the same. Anyways, she keeps on, lovin' sailors an' leavin' each one fer the next, down through centuries. Because, y'know goddesses, they just don't think like we do, because they've got eternity an' we get a few years. On top of it, she's a woman, so there's no makin' any sense outta her anyways, no matter what form she's in."

James snorted. "Calypso as shellfish? She is smaller than I expected."

"She's a goddess, mate! She can be any size she wants. An' yer ruinin' a perfectly good story." Jack pouted. "So she goes her merry way, havin' her fun and fun it was, lots of it—sailin' wif sailors, lovin' sailors, trickin' 'em into lovin' her an' laughin' at 'em when she gets bored an' finds someone new. Just like a woman, but of course, she's not a woman, not a regular human woman at all.

"Is that why she was in your breeches, Sparrow?"

Jack's pout grew. "Wouldn't be gentlemanly to elaborate, luv. An' yer interruptin' again."

"Sparrow, I hate to point out the obvious, but you are no gentleman."

"And she was no lady. Are you gonna listen to this or not, mate?" Jack leaned closer, his black eyes glittery. "So she falls fer this one sailor, an' that was her mistake, because we all know that one sailor isn't like every other, don't we? She loved him, he loved her an' it all ended very bad fer everyone involved."

James listened, watching curiously how Jack's fingers wriggled and squirmed in his lap. "Tentacley, it would seem."

Jack glanced up sharply. "Aye. So he turned the tables on his immortal paramour an' bound her to that human form he loved so well. That didn't turn out so well either, fer both of 'em. To be frank, I rather was on her side. I mean, wot's th' point of fallin' in love with anyone an' then tryin' t'change 'em? Doesn't make much sense, but nothin' with women, mortal or otherwise, makes much sense, does it? Complications all round, things don't quite fall the way they should, an' here we are." Sparrow's fingers still twitched, then settled around the rum bottle.

"With crabs in bottles and dead men aboard."

"Among other things."

Jack grabbed the bottle to refresh himself after such a long and arduous narrative. Mid-guzzle, he became aware of James' implacable gaze. Persistent bugger!

"So, if you are on her side, why precisely are you keeping 'Calypso' in a bottle?"

"Crablypso? Keepsake. I'm dreadful sentimental, y'know, despite all appearances."

James cocked his head. "Calypso wants her freedom. You have her, or a crabby part of her, in a bottle. Hence, Calypso wants something from you. Ergo, you received something from her." The green eyes glinted. "Why me?"

Jack glared over the bottle's neck. Too bloody smart Commocaptiral! He heaved a sigh. "Were you always this much of a know-it-all, mate? I didn't ask fer anyone in particular. Fact is, I didn't ask fer anyone at all."

James blinked and instead of the dark eyes, watched Jack's mouth, soft and twisted just a little downwards. "The Pearl?"

Jack's lip curled. "Course. Wot else?" He gnawed on it for a moment, then looked up warily. "I wasn't displeased, though."

James was still, then took the bottle and raised it in a wordless toast. "Even if it was unintentional, I suppose I owe you my thanks."

Jack squirmed. Bad as it was to have James guess the truth of it, it was worse to be thanked for it. For some reason, that didn't feel terribly good and Jack could never have explained why. He grinned but his eyes were softer than James had ever seen them. "Don't mention it. Guess it's gonna take us three dead men t'get through this venture."

James chuckled softly, his lips pressed together. "I think I'd rather count myself among the living."

Jack grinned and squeezed his arm. "Feels solid enough t'me, luv. An' we're both here because o' her, so I suppose we should both thank the crab. Although, strictly speakin', I can't imagine a crustacean acknowledgin' thanks, much less understandin' how t'properly reply. Come t'think of it, I don't know as it would understand English." Jack was squinting, a sure sign he was lying through his teeth, but his smile was genuine.

"That's why you're always talking to yourself, I'm sure."

"Huh? I don't follow that at all. An' I'm not always talkin' t'myself! I was talkin' to you. Funny how all them old sailor's tales have more tails an' fins than landlubbers suspect? Ever heard th' one about th' mermaid who got her tail in a knot? Happened somewhere off the Canaries, must be sixty years or more. She were swimming round, enjoyin' her life just fine, when this fisherman—Spanish chappie wif an eye fer a nice pair o'—"

He startled at a soft snore and the faint touch of James' head drooping onto his shoulder.

Heaving a sigh, Jack almost wished the crab was on deck to appreciate his conversation. He was gearing up for another massive sulk, but yawned instead. James was warm and the night air was chill. Within moments, the bottle slipped from his fingers and his head dropped to join James'.

James blinked himself awake in the chill just before dawn. Strange, that it would only chill his back... Oh. Jack's legs were tangled with his, head wedged under his chin, warm breath teasing at his collar.

Jack's lips smacked and he murmured some garbled nonsense about the key fitting the lock, positively snuggling.

James snorted and yawned, cut short by a gasp when Jack's leg pressed between his. With a soft growling noise, he pressed back.

Jack sprawled over James, his hand curling ever-so-conveniently in his lap. The tar-stained fingers fluttered, prodded, then stroked, one eye opening. My, my! Bigger than I remembered an' very nice indeed. His lips curved into a grin.

James grinned back, the first ray of sunlight glinting on his teeth. His hand froze on Jack's buttons when there was a deep, rumbling laugh.

"Jack, yer still up t'yer old tricks, aren't ya? Tell me, have you ever managed a two-day sail without havin' a bit on deck?" Barbossa damned near howled with laughter. The monkey joined him, chittering and pelting them with peanut shells.

Jack disentangled himself with a sniff, stalked to the lee rail and occupied himself with a different kind of morning relief.

James cleared his throat. "Good morning."

"Apparently, it is fer you two." Barbossa eyed the waters with a snarl. "Did ya bother t'make sure yer still on course? The ship, I mean." Jack the monkey screeched and jumped up and down.

Jack the human righted his breeches and stomped to the wheel. "Compass, Mr. Norrington, if ya please."

James reached into his pocket and bit back a groan, relieved by the cool breeze. He held out the compass. "Aye, Captain."

"Jack, ya didn't trade yer precious compass fer a tumble, did you now?" Barbossa was still chuckling as he, too, welcomed the breeze and a ray of sunlight broke through the gloom.

"Bugger off, Hector. An' if ya can arse yerself to it, try to be a bit of help, willya?"

"Looks like you be the one closer to a bit of buggery, Jack."

"More lies an' slander! I was not."

James cleared his throat. "He was not."

"Course not. Ye both be pure as the driven snow. Least we know that's one thing ya don't run away from, eh, Jack?" Barbossa was clearly enjoying the fact that James' face was scarlet as a Marine's coat and Jack was a peculiar shade of dusky vermilion.

"Hector, luv." Jack's gilded grin was dangerous. "I really wouldn't revisit all that right now. Could be bad fer yer heal—" He stopped suddenly. "Shut yer gob! D'ya hear that?"

For a moment, Barbossa still sniggered, then he, too, fell silent, listening to the sound of a child's song, borne on the wind, high and fleeting; then changing to the sound of the depths, a weird and eerie noise, like Uilean pipes echoing far away.

Jack fished the spyglass from his pocket and scanned the horizon. The seas had gone from grey to brilliant blue, the sunlight peeking through clouds to sparkle. He could see no land, yet there seemed to be islands around them, shaded and blurred like a spoilt watercolour. He peered, and suddenly snapped the glass closed, his face twisting. Wordlessly, he handed it to James.

The shapes on the islands were clearer than the land itself, bloated and ragged like unfortunate bodies returned to the sea without weight to hold them down. Hair tangled on the misshaped heads like seaweed. James' flush faded to icy pallor and he did not fight as Barbossa snatched the glass from him.

The song grew louder, then faded to nothingness, only to return, hypnotic and lulling. Jack's eyes grew glassy and he turned the wheel towards them, his face slack.

James shook his head and raised one hand, only to turn and haul at the sheets.

Even the monkey hung in the rigging, dazed and enchanted to silence.

It lost its hold on the ratline and crashed to the deck. It chirped meekly, then rushed up Barbossa's shoulder to chitter at him, the noise echoing over the song for a brief moment.

His eyes cleared and he blinked, watching the sloop teeter towards the islands, clearer now, the song more insistent. "What are you doing?" Jack showed no reaction and neither did Norrington.

"Sorry, Jack." His laugh and the thud of his fist against Jack's face drowned out the voices.

Sparrow reeled, still clinging to the wheel, then shook his head and blinked. The song rose around them and he swayed towards James, grabbing his arm. "James! JAMES! JAMIE!" He shouted.

James still stared blankly ahead, unmoving, until Jack's hand grabbed hold of his breeches. Or rather what was inside them.

Barbossa's laughter was wild, drowning out the lulling voices. "Sing, ya fools! SING fer yer lives! Those be sirens an' there be no man alive or dead who can resist their song. SING!"

His voice boomed as he started to bellow, "A handsome young sailor to London came down. He'd been paid off his ship in old Liverpool town."

James blinked and spared a moment to glare at Jack with a new glint in his eyes before joining to sing, "All you that will be seamen must bear a valiant heart, For when you come upon the seas you must not think to start..."

Jack started, "One evening last October, when I was far from sober, and dragging home a load with manly pride..."

Barbossa's baritone boomed, "They asked him his name and he answered them: quite I belong to a family called nine times a night."

Jack switched tunes, figuring he might just confuse a siren or two. "The cabin boy was chipper, a nasty little nipper."

James made for the wheel, and together, they pulled the Calypso backon course, fighting the wheel that, once more, had a will of its own. "Nor once to be faint-hearted in hail, rain, or snow, nor to shrink, nor to shrink when the stormy winds do blow."

"He lined his ass with broken glass and circumcised the skipper."

James grimaced and raised his voice to drown out the sirens and Jack. "Heart of oak are our ships, heart of oak are our men; we always are ready, steady, boys, steady! We'll fight and we'll conquer again and again."

Barbossa chimed in with, "Now listen my children, a story you'll hear. A song I will sing you; 'twill fill you with cheer. A charming young maiden was wed in the Fall. She married a man who had no balls at all."

Jack countered, "The bosun's mate was Andy. A Portsmouth man and randy, he used to cool his favourite tool in a glass of the skipper's brandy."

"Sometimes in Neptune's bosom our ship is tossed in waves, and every man expecting the sea to be their graves..." Slowly, the Calypso heaved herself past the islands that melted back into the haze, the luring song fading into shrill complaint, barely hissing through their own frightening chorus.

Barbossa was still singing, "I can't give you anything but love, baby."

Jack and James stopped to stare at him. He shrugged. Even the monkey had been shrieking and chittering along with them and now clung to Barbossa. They were all panting.

Finally, Jack broke the silence. "I dunno 'bout you lot, but I need a drink!"

For once, they were all in accord.

_______________________________________
NOTES: The songs they sing are as follows:

Barbossa sings: Nine Times A Night (http://www.traditionalmusic.co.uk/bawdy-songs/007357.HTM)
No Balls at All (http://www.traditionalmusic.co.uk/bawdy-songs/007360.HTM)
I Can't Give You Anything but Love, Baby (Jimmy McHugh and Dorothy Fields, l928)

James sings: Heart of Oak (http://www.contemplator.com/england/heartoak.html)
Neptune's Raging Fury (http://www.traditionalmusic.co.uk/navel-songs-ballads/naval-songs-ballads%20-%200245.htm)

Jack sings: The Pig and the Inebriate (http://www.traditionalmusic.co.uk/bawdy-songs/008104.HTM)
Friggin' in the Riggin' (http://www.traditionalmusic.co.uk/bawdy-songs/003683.HTM)

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