Barbossa's Daughter

Chapter 27

"Trim that sail. Slack windward brace and sheet," Barbossa called as he walked along the deck of the Pearl. Cora was running her hand along the rail as she relished being home. "Haul the pennant line."

"Haul the pennant line!" Jack repeated.

"What are you doing?" Barbossa asked.

"What are you doing?"

"No, what arr you doing?"

"What are you doing?"

"No, what ARR you doing?"

"What are you doing? Captain gives orders on the ship," Jack said.

"The captain of the ship is giving orders."

"My ship, makes me captain."

"They be my charts."

"That makes you chartman."

Cora rolled her eyes as Pintel began screaming at the two men, tossing his hat in the ring to be captain since it was undecided before the two men death glared him and Pintel backed down. "Will?" Cora called.

"Yes?"

"Can I borrow ye pistol?"

"Sure?" he said unsurely as he handed it over and she cocked it as she took two steps forward and shot the pistol into the air as everyone's eyes turned to her.

"Until ye moronic deck apes can get along," Cora began as she tossed Will back his pistol and began walking towards her father and uncle. "We be taking orders from me for the time being. Does either of ye have a problem with that?"

"Of course not, me darling daughter," Barbossa spoke smugly as they both turned to Jack.

"No, Delia. There be no problem," Jack said reluctantly.

"Good," Cora said. "Since I'm feeling generous, Jack ye may steer. As for you, Father, you can decide our heading. Any complaints out of either of ye and you can stay in the bloody Locker. Am I understood?"

"Aye, Cora," they both said.

"Good. Now get to it," she ordered as they both headed for the helm. "As for the rest of ye!" she called as they all flinched from where they'd been watching. "All men to their stations! Full canvas! Move it!"

And they scrambled like ants in the rain as Cora rolled her eyes and Will came up to her side. "Can we talk?" he asked.

"We just got back and these low lives are already giving me a headache. Let's go. I need to lie down and then I need a damn drink."

Will followed her below deck and into her cabin that was not the wreckage it was when they were last here.

"What did ye want to talk about?" Cora asked as she flopped onto her bed and stretched out, relishing in the feeling of being home again.

"I just want you to know that I had nothing to do with Elizabeth leaving Jack to die," he said, and Cora leaned up on her elbows.

"I didn't think you did. Ye be an annoyingly honest person, Will Turner."

And guilt pooled in his stomach.

He could feel it. He could feel himself becoming attached to her in a way that was more than physical. And it all started with the damned ring that she still wore around her neck. Lines were starting to be crossed. That stupidly thin line between hate and lust – god forbid he uses the other 'L' word – was beginning to blur even more and it was driving him crazy. The fact that he couldn't wipe Cora from his mind. And it wasn't just the physical things like the way her skin felt, or which spot you needed to touch to drive her crazy or how good she looked without clothes on or his mapping of the scars all over her body. It was things like the way she always wrapped a sash around her waist twice before tying it. That she drank wine more than she did rum. She hated the sound of people dragging their feet along the deck. That her dagger was always kept in her left boot just like she preferred the left side of the bed. That she'd taken to fidgeting what that stupid ring when she was deep in thought.