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bluesuedeshoesTitle: Of Swashbuckling Pirates and Distressing Damsels
Category: Smallville/Pirates of the Caribbean Crossover
Rating: G--subject to change and probably will dramatically
Genre: Crossover--adventure/romance
Pairing: Chloe/Oliver
Warnings: Oliver as a pirate. Yes, you did need to be warned. Also, this may well be the dumbest thing I've ever done, but I couldn't help it. It was really fun to write.
Summary: Chloe Sullivan is captured by pirates. Do you need anything else?
Prompt:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ari_g a crossover with Pirates of the Caribbean
Someone made me a banner! Thank you!! :)
fabulous banner by552158
Next (Chapter 2)
"You touch so much as a candlestick, Sparrow, and I'll skewer you on this dagger, harvest your innards and serve them up to the pigs."
Jack Sparrow looked up, dropping the pearl necklace in his hands. He craned his neck over his shoulder to get a look at the woman holding a blade to his back. He gave her a flash of something that might have been a grimace or a smile depending on how you interpreted it, his hands raised in surrender. "Just looking," he said casually, and the woman scoffed.
"Sure you were."
"You'd better put that thing down before you poke an eye out. Those are dangerous, you know."
"And you'd better stop inching your right hand toward the hilt of your sword or we'll find out just how dangerous this dagger is when it cuts your hand off."
"Daddy didn't give you much attention growing up, did he?"
She rolled her eyes. "Here's what I'm going to do for you, Sparrow--"
"Captain Sparrow," he corrected, as though this were a matter of some importance.
"Don't interrupt," she pressed the dagger's tip a little more firmly into his back, moving closer to him and speaking into his ear. "I really dislike it when men interrupt."
"I imagine so. I know it drives me mad. I knew a girl once who did nothing but interrupt me. She always laughed before a joke was over. Got the feeling she wouldn't have recognized the funny part even if she did let me get to it. Bloody idiot, that woman. Good looking though. Not as good as you--"
"Do you ever shut up?" she half-yelled, irritated.
"No, he doesn't. Believe me, I've tried."
The woman sucked in a sharp breath of air, having been caught off-guard. She should have expected there would be more men, with the swarm of pirates sacking the town outside. She closed her eyes, furious with herself for letting someone sneak up on her. He tapped her shoulder lightly with the blade of his sword.
"Put the dagger down, if you don't mind."
Slowly, she lowered the dagger, deliberately taking her time about it and keeping it in full view of the man behind her. Then, with sudden speed and agility that neither man had been expecting, she stole Jack's sword and whirled around, facing her attacker, sword in one hand, dagger in the other, prepared to fight.
She was not prepared, however, for how attractive he would be. She felt her heart leap slightly at the figure the blond in front of her cut. He was tall, towering over her, with warm brown eyes, incredibly well-defined muscles, and an arrogant smirk that would have melted a lesser woman to a pathetic puddle at his feet.
Chloe Sullivan was no ordinary woman. He already looked caught off-guard by the fact that she'd gotten the best of Jack and stolen his sword.
"Look, Lady, I'm not looking to get into it with you, and we both know--"
"Think I can't take you?" she challenged, eyes flashing.
"I think you have no idea what you're getting yourself into."
Jack eyeballed the pair with a raised brow. "Right," he interrupted them, stuffing the string of pearls into his pocket. "Well, you two lovers just try not to wake the children with your fighting, eh?" He looked at the woman and half smirked at her. "Lovely doing business with you darling." With that, he headed for the door, pausing only to speak to his savior. "Try not to take too long, eh mate?"
He rolled his eyes as Jack left and Chloe glared after him, her eyes narrowed dangerously. She then turned her gaze on the man before her, taking a moment to slip her dagger into her belt and toss the sword into her other hand.
He cocked his head to the side, amused. "Really? You honestly think you can take me? Listen, Lady, I've got a boat to catch, so I really haven't got time to play games. Why don't you just--"
"What is it with pirates that they like hearing themselves talk?" Chloe demanded.
He smirked more blatantly, then he looked her up and down thoughtfully. He lowered his sword, confident she couldn't do anything to him and circled her in appraisal. She was attractive. Very attractive. A short, spitfire of a woman, she had intelligent green eyes and beautiful gold hair, tumbling down her back in messy curls. She'd obviously been in bed when Jack broke into her house, still clothed in a nightgown that showed off her figure all too well. "Well," he said seductively. "If it's any comfort, I could think of other uses for my mouth."
Indignant and shocked, Chloe brought her sword to his throat in a lightning-quick movement that he almost didn't anticipate. At the last minute he brought his own blade between them, but she still had him backed against the wall, the advantage clearly hers.
She smiled mockingly at him. "How do you prefer to die? Quick and easy now? Or a hanging tomorrow?"
"And here I thought you were warming up to me," he grinned, suddenly shoving her off of him, raising his blade, now on his guard. They circled each other warily, neither underestimating the other anymore. "Listen, Blondie, why don't you just let it go? I'll go on my merry way and never darken your doorway again. Fair?"
She raised a shapely brow. "Scared?"
"Never."
She struck at him repeatedly, and he parried each attack with frustrating ease.
"Finished yet?" he asked.
"Tired?" she mocked.
"Of you? Not a chance," he grinned, enjoying the defensive approach for once. Normally he attacked swiftly and cleanly. It was rare he crossed blades with someone he didn't intend to hurt. He waited for her to attack again and when she did, once again he deflected each blow, though he had to be careful. She was skilled. Very skilled. When she paused again, he couldn't help asking, "Any reason the lady of the household is the one defending it? Shouldn't you have a husband running around somewhere defending your honor?"
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Not that it's any of your business of course," she pointed out.
"Color me curious," he went through the motions of an attack, allowing her to fend him off, stepping forward and forcing her into more of a corner.
"My father wouldn't know what to do with a sword even if anyone were fool enough to put one in his hand, and my fiance is out cold."
"Out cold? Tsk tsk. I hope your lover went down bravely then, at least," he looked smug, as though he knew it had probably been a pathetic defeat just by her tone.
She rolled her eyes, smirking as she confided in him, "He ran into a door."
"Eager, is he?" He glanced appreciatively at the ample cleavage she had on display. "Can't blame the fellow. I would be, too."
She glared at him, "He means well," she defended, even though she had no strong affections for the man her father wanted her to marry. She cut at his shoulder and tried not to show her frustration when he blocked it so easily.
His eyebrows rose dramatically. "Means well? That's the best defense his loving fiance can come up with?"
Her tone turned icy. "Who said anything about 'loving?' " she asked.
He clucked his tongue knowingly. "Oh, I see," he said, his eyes darting around the room as he formulated a plan. "Let me guess? Daddy picked him out for you?"
"It's none of your--"
"I make it my business when pretty girls are unhappy," he said cockily. "So tell me: is he ugly, then? Or just slow-witted? Seems a shame. Girl like you shouldn't be wasted on a fool. I bet they don't like you reading so much, do they?" he added, noting the large bookcase in the corner.
Before she could stop herself, she glanced guiltily at the books in the corner, and he seized his opportunity, lunging forward and pulling her hands behind her back, knocking her over the head with the hilt of his sword and rendering her unconscious. She collapsed in his arms.
He looked at her interestedly before laying her gently on the bed. He glanced at the jewelry Jack had been sifting through and snatched a few items, stuffing them in his pockets before exploring a few other rooms. He found her unconscious fiance shortly. The man was absurd looking, mouth hanging slack and a stupefied expression on his face. He shook his head. She was way more than he could handle.
And perhaps it was that thought that had him slinging her over his shoulders and carrying her out of the mansion into the streets, which were wrought with chaos and panic as the crew pillaged to their greedy hearts' content. Other than that, he had no idea what possessed him to do it.
He couldn't help but roll his eyes at Gibbs' protests when he brought her aboard. "Fearful bad luck, Cap'n, having a woman--"
"Gibbs, is there anything that isn't bad luck?" he asked with a humorous glance at him.
"Rum, Captain."
He smirked at this and tossed Gibbs a full bottle of rum. "Good thing I brought you this, then, isn't it?"
Gibbs raised the bottle in toast. "That'll help, Sir."
Oliver chuckled as he carried the woman back to his quarters, shouting instructions as he went to make ready to sail.
_ _ _ _ _
Chloe stirred uncomfortably, a vague pain throbbing at the side of her skull. She raised an arm and touched the spot lightly, hissing through her teeth and removing her fingers immediately. There was a swollen lump there. She groaned, rolling onto her side before suddenly becoming aware that these sheets did not feel like her sheets.
The events of the previous night came flooding back to her and she shot up, ignoring the instant throb of pain in her head that caused her eyes to well up. She looked around her in a panic, her mind absorbing the ship's cabin she appeared to be in, but most importantly, the man sitting in a chair, holding a pistol to her.
He looked calm enough, though. "Oh good. You're awake. This has been a bit boring so far."
She eyed the gun in his hand warily. "Is that really necessary?"
He lifted a shoulder. "Captain seemed to think it was. He said something about the likelihood that if you wasn't watched, we'd catch you either rowing into the distance on one of the lifeboats or else we'd find ourselves tied to the mast whiles you sailed the ship."
Chloe gaped at him, finally registering the word 'Captain.' Her temper flared. "Jack Sparrow--"
"Is not the captain of this ship," a voice interrupted them. Chloe and the man with the gun looked up to see the man she'd fought the previous night, an arrogant smirk planted fixedly on his lips.
"He called himself captain," she said, not sure why this point was important to her.
"That'll do, Mullroy," he said, ignoring her and speaking to the man with the pistol, who jumped to an overdone, and most likely unnecessary salute.
"Yes, Sir, Captain Oliver," he said before rushing out.
The Captain, with an amused look on his face, sat down in a chair at his desk, facing out to Chloe. He propped his feet on the desk and pulled an apple out of his pocket, taking a small silver knife to it and cutting chunks of it to eat. "Jack Sparrow is the Captain of his ship. This is not his ship. I found him last week stranded on an island." He paused, smirking slightly. "He seems to have a habit of that sort of thing." He looked up at her. "Any other questions?"
"How about what the hell I'm doing here you slimy, greedy, barbaric--"
"Language, language," Oliver admonished lightly. "And here I thought you'd be so grateful, me rescuing you and all."
She gaped openly at him. "I beg your pardon!" she demanded indignantly, rising from the bed.
He took another bite of his apple. "Trust me when I say there are few fates worse than being married off to someone you can't stand," he said with a tone that implied deep experience with the matter.
She sputtered furiously. "You! How dare you--of all the infuriating assumptions!"
"Don't pretend you liked him. We both know you didn't."
She raised herself up to her full height, which wasn't all that impressive, though it helped that he was sitting down. Recovering all the dignity she could manage, she spoke loftily. "My romantic life is certainly none of your concern, and I demand to be returned to shore at once."
"I wouldn't call that much of a romantic life, honey, and as for bringing you back to shore, I'll be happy to, soon as we're near shore again, that is."
She felt her heart pause with horror. "What?" she choked out, desperate to know the worst.
"You've been out cold for a while, love. There's no shore for miles."
She stared at him, too shocked at the reality of her situation for anything other than pure horror to register with her. Then, slowly, the weight of it all sunk in on her. She sank to the floor, unable to prevent the loud sob she choked out. "Oh my god...Oh my god!"
Alarmed, Oliver stood up. He'd known she'd take it badly. Who wouldn't? But he hadn't actually anticipated her crying. She hadn't seemed like the type. Yet there she was, kneeling on the floor at the foot of the bed, hugging her self and sobbing, her body trembling and tears coursing down her cheeks.
Unsure of himself, Oliver reached out to touch her shoulder, but she flinched violently and backed away from him. "Don't come near me," she spat. "Don't you dare lay one finger on me."
He sighed heavily, annoyed. "Relax."
She rolled her eyes, bitter laughter coming through between her tears, scoffing at him. "Right. Relax. I've only been ripped from my home and father. I should enjoy the lovely sea air, I suppose?"
He grimaced, but didn't fail to notice the fact that she wasn't bemoaning the loss of her fiance. "I'll have some food brought in from the kitchen," he said after a moment, heading for the door.
"What?" she demanded coldly, "Not going to have someone in here to hold me at gunpoint?"
He glanced at her, eyebrow quirked. "Do I need to?" he asked.
She stared at him defiantly, but then, slowly, accepting, she shook her head.
He nodded and left her.
Hugging her knees into her chest, Chloe took in her surroundings more cautiously, tears still falling unbidden down her flushed cheeks. There was no doubt that she was in the captain's quarters. They were beautiful. If she couldn't feel the slight rock of the ship beneath her, she might have believed she was in someone's finely kept home, although the room did lack in the overdone embellishments and decorations that she herself found so utterly useless. The desk was buried under heaps of papers, maps, and opened books. The bed was large and soft, with clean white sheets and a rich, dark forest green duvet. On one wall of the cabin hung a framed map of the world as well as a round mirror, and one wall was entirely floor to ceiling bookshelves, full to bursting with more books than she'd ever dreamed of. She got up and walked to them, running her fingers reverently over their spines, admiring them. She subconsciously softened ever so slightly toward her captor. It was hard to truly hate anyone who loved books as much as he evidently did.
Upon close inspection she found that she had been robbed of her dagger, which was unsurprising, but clothes had been left out for her, a clean, fine dress, though not overdone. It was the sort of dress she might have worn if she'd been traveling by sea. She walked over to the mirror, which didn't distort her face but had a slightly green tint to it. Carefully, trying to steady herself and seizing a familiar act to reassure herself, she pinned her hair up properly. pulling it into a pile of curls on top of her head. Then she turned and glanced at the gown distrustfully. With a sigh, though, she determined it was better than running around in her nightgown while being held captive by a crew of blood-thirsty, black-hearted pirates.
She dressed quickly, in spite of her difficulty reaching certain buttons. She was used to having a bit of assistance.
Just as she was beginning to formulate plans of escape, and considering whether or not it would be wise to barricade herself in his quarters or not, the door opened and in walked a man with a false eye, looking disgruntled about something. He paused to look at her before dropping a tray of food on the table, then walked out, grumbling something under his breath about being made into a waiter and then about her being fully clothed.
Chloe watched him go, startled at his sudden appearance and equally sudden disappearance before her stomach growled insistently and she realized how hungry she was. She approached the tray anxiously, the smell of brown sugar wafting to her. The thought of poison occurred to her briefly, but she dismissed it just as quickly. Why should they kill her? It would make no sense. And regardless, better to be there, poisoned by pirates, than home trying to stave off her love-stricken fiance.
She snatched up a spoon and dove into the porridge hungrily, then downed the glass of water as well as the pear that had been left for her. She wasn't hungry anymore by the time she got to the fruit, but she couldn't be certain the good treatment--or the food--would last long.
When she was done eating, she returned to perusing the books, eying them almost covetously, wondering whether or not to tuck one away for her own pleasure. She missed the sound of creaking wood that signaled the door of the cabin opening again.
Oliver leaned in the doorway, folding his arms across his chest and studying her with satisfaction, pleased to see that her tears hadn't lasted. The tray was emptied of food, and she'd even changed into the clothes he'd provided. She hadn't noticed him, completely entranced by the books she was fingering.
He cleared his throat.
Chloe jumped, turning anxiously and, upon spotting Oliver leaning arrogantly in the door frame, felt her temper flare automatically.
He grinned easily at her. "Feeling better?" he asked.
She glared at him, not deigning to answer, instead turning away from him.
He shrugged. "Fair enough." He started to leave, knowing she'd prefer that, but he paused, glancing over his shoulder at her. "You're welcome to them."
She looked up. "What?"
"The books. Help yourself. Just try not to drop them overboard if you can help it." He winked at her confidently before vanishing from her sight.
Next (Chapter 2)
Category: Smallville/Pirates of the Caribbean Crossover
Rating: G--subject to change and probably will dramatically
Genre: Crossover--adventure/romance
Pairing: Chloe/Oliver
Warnings: Oliver as a pirate. Yes, you did need to be warned. Also, this may well be the dumbest thing I've ever done, but I couldn't help it. It was really fun to write.
Summary: Chloe Sullivan is captured by pirates. Do you need anything else?
Prompt:
ari_g a crossover with Pirates of the CaribbeanSomeone made me a banner! Thank you!! :)
fabulous banner by
552158 Next (Chapter 2)
"You touch so much as a candlestick, Sparrow, and I'll skewer you on this dagger, harvest your innards and serve them up to the pigs."
Jack Sparrow looked up, dropping the pearl necklace in his hands. He craned his neck over his shoulder to get a look at the woman holding a blade to his back. He gave her a flash of something that might have been a grimace or a smile depending on how you interpreted it, his hands raised in surrender. "Just looking," he said casually, and the woman scoffed.
"Sure you were."
"You'd better put that thing down before you poke an eye out. Those are dangerous, you know."
"And you'd better stop inching your right hand toward the hilt of your sword or we'll find out just how dangerous this dagger is when it cuts your hand off."
"Daddy didn't give you much attention growing up, did he?"
She rolled her eyes. "Here's what I'm going to do for you, Sparrow--"
"Captain Sparrow," he corrected, as though this were a matter of some importance.
"Don't interrupt," she pressed the dagger's tip a little more firmly into his back, moving closer to him and speaking into his ear. "I really dislike it when men interrupt."
"I imagine so. I know it drives me mad. I knew a girl once who did nothing but interrupt me. She always laughed before a joke was over. Got the feeling she wouldn't have recognized the funny part even if she did let me get to it. Bloody idiot, that woman. Good looking though. Not as good as you--"
"Do you ever shut up?" she half-yelled, irritated.
"No, he doesn't. Believe me, I've tried."
The woman sucked in a sharp breath of air, having been caught off-guard. She should have expected there would be more men, with the swarm of pirates sacking the town outside. She closed her eyes, furious with herself for letting someone sneak up on her. He tapped her shoulder lightly with the blade of his sword.
"Put the dagger down, if you don't mind."
Slowly, she lowered the dagger, deliberately taking her time about it and keeping it in full view of the man behind her. Then, with sudden speed and agility that neither man had been expecting, she stole Jack's sword and whirled around, facing her attacker, sword in one hand, dagger in the other, prepared to fight.
She was not prepared, however, for how attractive he would be. She felt her heart leap slightly at the figure the blond in front of her cut. He was tall, towering over her, with warm brown eyes, incredibly well-defined muscles, and an arrogant smirk that would have melted a lesser woman to a pathetic puddle at his feet.
Chloe Sullivan was no ordinary woman. He already looked caught off-guard by the fact that she'd gotten the best of Jack and stolen his sword.
"Look, Lady, I'm not looking to get into it with you, and we both know--"
"Think I can't take you?" she challenged, eyes flashing.
"I think you have no idea what you're getting yourself into."
Jack eyeballed the pair with a raised brow. "Right," he interrupted them, stuffing the string of pearls into his pocket. "Well, you two lovers just try not to wake the children with your fighting, eh?" He looked at the woman and half smirked at her. "Lovely doing business with you darling." With that, he headed for the door, pausing only to speak to his savior. "Try not to take too long, eh mate?"
He rolled his eyes as Jack left and Chloe glared after him, her eyes narrowed dangerously. She then turned her gaze on the man before her, taking a moment to slip her dagger into her belt and toss the sword into her other hand.
He cocked his head to the side, amused. "Really? You honestly think you can take me? Listen, Lady, I've got a boat to catch, so I really haven't got time to play games. Why don't you just--"
"What is it with pirates that they like hearing themselves talk?" Chloe demanded.
He smirked more blatantly, then he looked her up and down thoughtfully. He lowered his sword, confident she couldn't do anything to him and circled her in appraisal. She was attractive. Very attractive. A short, spitfire of a woman, she had intelligent green eyes and beautiful gold hair, tumbling down her back in messy curls. She'd obviously been in bed when Jack broke into her house, still clothed in a nightgown that showed off her figure all too well. "Well," he said seductively. "If it's any comfort, I could think of other uses for my mouth."
Indignant and shocked, Chloe brought her sword to his throat in a lightning-quick movement that he almost didn't anticipate. At the last minute he brought his own blade between them, but she still had him backed against the wall, the advantage clearly hers.
She smiled mockingly at him. "How do you prefer to die? Quick and easy now? Or a hanging tomorrow?"
"And here I thought you were warming up to me," he grinned, suddenly shoving her off of him, raising his blade, now on his guard. They circled each other warily, neither underestimating the other anymore. "Listen, Blondie, why don't you just let it go? I'll go on my merry way and never darken your doorway again. Fair?"
She raised a shapely brow. "Scared?"
"Never."
She struck at him repeatedly, and he parried each attack with frustrating ease.
"Finished yet?" he asked.
"Tired?" she mocked.
"Of you? Not a chance," he grinned, enjoying the defensive approach for once. Normally he attacked swiftly and cleanly. It was rare he crossed blades with someone he didn't intend to hurt. He waited for her to attack again and when she did, once again he deflected each blow, though he had to be careful. She was skilled. Very skilled. When she paused again, he couldn't help asking, "Any reason the lady of the household is the one defending it? Shouldn't you have a husband running around somewhere defending your honor?"
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Not that it's any of your business of course," she pointed out.
"Color me curious," he went through the motions of an attack, allowing her to fend him off, stepping forward and forcing her into more of a corner.
"My father wouldn't know what to do with a sword even if anyone were fool enough to put one in his hand, and my fiance is out cold."
"Out cold? Tsk tsk. I hope your lover went down bravely then, at least," he looked smug, as though he knew it had probably been a pathetic defeat just by her tone.
She rolled her eyes, smirking as she confided in him, "He ran into a door."
"Eager, is he?" He glanced appreciatively at the ample cleavage she had on display. "Can't blame the fellow. I would be, too."
She glared at him, "He means well," she defended, even though she had no strong affections for the man her father wanted her to marry. She cut at his shoulder and tried not to show her frustration when he blocked it so easily.
His eyebrows rose dramatically. "Means well? That's the best defense his loving fiance can come up with?"
Her tone turned icy. "Who said anything about 'loving?' " she asked.
He clucked his tongue knowingly. "Oh, I see," he said, his eyes darting around the room as he formulated a plan. "Let me guess? Daddy picked him out for you?"
"It's none of your--"
"I make it my business when pretty girls are unhappy," he said cockily. "So tell me: is he ugly, then? Or just slow-witted? Seems a shame. Girl like you shouldn't be wasted on a fool. I bet they don't like you reading so much, do they?" he added, noting the large bookcase in the corner.
Before she could stop herself, she glanced guiltily at the books in the corner, and he seized his opportunity, lunging forward and pulling her hands behind her back, knocking her over the head with the hilt of his sword and rendering her unconscious. She collapsed in his arms.
He looked at her interestedly before laying her gently on the bed. He glanced at the jewelry Jack had been sifting through and snatched a few items, stuffing them in his pockets before exploring a few other rooms. He found her unconscious fiance shortly. The man was absurd looking, mouth hanging slack and a stupefied expression on his face. He shook his head. She was way more than he could handle.
And perhaps it was that thought that had him slinging her over his shoulders and carrying her out of the mansion into the streets, which were wrought with chaos and panic as the crew pillaged to their greedy hearts' content. Other than that, he had no idea what possessed him to do it.
He couldn't help but roll his eyes at Gibbs' protests when he brought her aboard. "Fearful bad luck, Cap'n, having a woman--"
"Gibbs, is there anything that isn't bad luck?" he asked with a humorous glance at him.
"Rum, Captain."
He smirked at this and tossed Gibbs a full bottle of rum. "Good thing I brought you this, then, isn't it?"
Gibbs raised the bottle in toast. "That'll help, Sir."
Oliver chuckled as he carried the woman back to his quarters, shouting instructions as he went to make ready to sail.
_ _ _ _ _
Chloe stirred uncomfortably, a vague pain throbbing at the side of her skull. She raised an arm and touched the spot lightly, hissing through her teeth and removing her fingers immediately. There was a swollen lump there. She groaned, rolling onto her side before suddenly becoming aware that these sheets did not feel like her sheets.
The events of the previous night came flooding back to her and she shot up, ignoring the instant throb of pain in her head that caused her eyes to well up. She looked around her in a panic, her mind absorbing the ship's cabin she appeared to be in, but most importantly, the man sitting in a chair, holding a pistol to her.
He looked calm enough, though. "Oh good. You're awake. This has been a bit boring so far."
She eyed the gun in his hand warily. "Is that really necessary?"
He lifted a shoulder. "Captain seemed to think it was. He said something about the likelihood that if you wasn't watched, we'd catch you either rowing into the distance on one of the lifeboats or else we'd find ourselves tied to the mast whiles you sailed the ship."
Chloe gaped at him, finally registering the word 'Captain.' Her temper flared. "Jack Sparrow--"
"Is not the captain of this ship," a voice interrupted them. Chloe and the man with the gun looked up to see the man she'd fought the previous night, an arrogant smirk planted fixedly on his lips.
"He called himself captain," she said, not sure why this point was important to her.
"That'll do, Mullroy," he said, ignoring her and speaking to the man with the pistol, who jumped to an overdone, and most likely unnecessary salute.
"Yes, Sir, Captain Oliver," he said before rushing out.
The Captain, with an amused look on his face, sat down in a chair at his desk, facing out to Chloe. He propped his feet on the desk and pulled an apple out of his pocket, taking a small silver knife to it and cutting chunks of it to eat. "Jack Sparrow is the Captain of his ship. This is not his ship. I found him last week stranded on an island." He paused, smirking slightly. "He seems to have a habit of that sort of thing." He looked up at her. "Any other questions?"
"How about what the hell I'm doing here you slimy, greedy, barbaric--"
"Language, language," Oliver admonished lightly. "And here I thought you'd be so grateful, me rescuing you and all."
She gaped openly at him. "I beg your pardon!" she demanded indignantly, rising from the bed.
He took another bite of his apple. "Trust me when I say there are few fates worse than being married off to someone you can't stand," he said with a tone that implied deep experience with the matter.
She sputtered furiously. "You! How dare you--of all the infuriating assumptions!"
"Don't pretend you liked him. We both know you didn't."
She raised herself up to her full height, which wasn't all that impressive, though it helped that he was sitting down. Recovering all the dignity she could manage, she spoke loftily. "My romantic life is certainly none of your concern, and I demand to be returned to shore at once."
"I wouldn't call that much of a romantic life, honey, and as for bringing you back to shore, I'll be happy to, soon as we're near shore again, that is."
She felt her heart pause with horror. "What?" she choked out, desperate to know the worst.
"You've been out cold for a while, love. There's no shore for miles."
She stared at him, too shocked at the reality of her situation for anything other than pure horror to register with her. Then, slowly, the weight of it all sunk in on her. She sank to the floor, unable to prevent the loud sob she choked out. "Oh my god...Oh my god!"
Alarmed, Oliver stood up. He'd known she'd take it badly. Who wouldn't? But he hadn't actually anticipated her crying. She hadn't seemed like the type. Yet there she was, kneeling on the floor at the foot of the bed, hugging her self and sobbing, her body trembling and tears coursing down her cheeks.
Unsure of himself, Oliver reached out to touch her shoulder, but she flinched violently and backed away from him. "Don't come near me," she spat. "Don't you dare lay one finger on me."
He sighed heavily, annoyed. "Relax."
She rolled her eyes, bitter laughter coming through between her tears, scoffing at him. "Right. Relax. I've only been ripped from my home and father. I should enjoy the lovely sea air, I suppose?"
He grimaced, but didn't fail to notice the fact that she wasn't bemoaning the loss of her fiance. "I'll have some food brought in from the kitchen," he said after a moment, heading for the door.
"What?" she demanded coldly, "Not going to have someone in here to hold me at gunpoint?"
He glanced at her, eyebrow quirked. "Do I need to?" he asked.
She stared at him defiantly, but then, slowly, accepting, she shook her head.
He nodded and left her.
Hugging her knees into her chest, Chloe took in her surroundings more cautiously, tears still falling unbidden down her flushed cheeks. There was no doubt that she was in the captain's quarters. They were beautiful. If she couldn't feel the slight rock of the ship beneath her, she might have believed she was in someone's finely kept home, although the room did lack in the overdone embellishments and decorations that she herself found so utterly useless. The desk was buried under heaps of papers, maps, and opened books. The bed was large and soft, with clean white sheets and a rich, dark forest green duvet. On one wall of the cabin hung a framed map of the world as well as a round mirror, and one wall was entirely floor to ceiling bookshelves, full to bursting with more books than she'd ever dreamed of. She got up and walked to them, running her fingers reverently over their spines, admiring them. She subconsciously softened ever so slightly toward her captor. It was hard to truly hate anyone who loved books as much as he evidently did.
Upon close inspection she found that she had been robbed of her dagger, which was unsurprising, but clothes had been left out for her, a clean, fine dress, though not overdone. It was the sort of dress she might have worn if she'd been traveling by sea. She walked over to the mirror, which didn't distort her face but had a slightly green tint to it. Carefully, trying to steady herself and seizing a familiar act to reassure herself, she pinned her hair up properly. pulling it into a pile of curls on top of her head. Then she turned and glanced at the gown distrustfully. With a sigh, though, she determined it was better than running around in her nightgown while being held captive by a crew of blood-thirsty, black-hearted pirates.
She dressed quickly, in spite of her difficulty reaching certain buttons. She was used to having a bit of assistance.
Just as she was beginning to formulate plans of escape, and considering whether or not it would be wise to barricade herself in his quarters or not, the door opened and in walked a man with a false eye, looking disgruntled about something. He paused to look at her before dropping a tray of food on the table, then walked out, grumbling something under his breath about being made into a waiter and then about her being fully clothed.
Chloe watched him go, startled at his sudden appearance and equally sudden disappearance before her stomach growled insistently and she realized how hungry she was. She approached the tray anxiously, the smell of brown sugar wafting to her. The thought of poison occurred to her briefly, but she dismissed it just as quickly. Why should they kill her? It would make no sense. And regardless, better to be there, poisoned by pirates, than home trying to stave off her love-stricken fiance.
She snatched up a spoon and dove into the porridge hungrily, then downed the glass of water as well as the pear that had been left for her. She wasn't hungry anymore by the time she got to the fruit, but she couldn't be certain the good treatment--or the food--would last long.
When she was done eating, she returned to perusing the books, eying them almost covetously, wondering whether or not to tuck one away for her own pleasure. She missed the sound of creaking wood that signaled the door of the cabin opening again.
Oliver leaned in the doorway, folding his arms across his chest and studying her with satisfaction, pleased to see that her tears hadn't lasted. The tray was emptied of food, and she'd even changed into the clothes he'd provided. She hadn't noticed him, completely entranced by the books she was fingering.
He cleared his throat.
Chloe jumped, turning anxiously and, upon spotting Oliver leaning arrogantly in the door frame, felt her temper flare automatically.
He grinned easily at her. "Feeling better?" he asked.
She glared at him, not deigning to answer, instead turning away from him.
He shrugged. "Fair enough." He started to leave, knowing she'd prefer that, but he paused, glancing over his shoulder at her. "You're welcome to them."
She looked up. "What?"
"The books. Help yourself. Just try not to drop them overboard if you can help it." He winked at her confidently before vanishing from her sight.
Next (Chapter 2)
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Date: 2010-12-20 07:45 pm (UTC)