Fred Came Back

Chapter Six

The evening sky turned into the night. The night sky turned into a new dawn sky, which in turn became a noon sky. At high noon, another evening sky soon followed. The sky was as lovely as it was mysterious. I bet you wish I would stop writing about the sky.

Henry Pooter, Earl of Dumpleton, sobbed buckets from down inside his rowboat, still floating in the choppy waves next to the pirate ship. Darcy and Jack stared on from above, silent and feeling heinously unsure of how to help the emotional lanky man.

"Er...Henry, my boy!" Frederick called down after another hour, "Are you ready to be lifted up yet?"

"No! I'll never be ready!" The sound of Henry's voice faintly shouted back from down below in the rowboat. "She was the love of my life, old boy! Now she's...FISH FOOD!!!! OH WAGHAHA!"

"Is he crying?... or laughing?" Darcy murmured with a lift of her brow beneath widened eyes of fascination.

Jack shook his head once from side to side, keeping his gaze on Henry. "I can't quite tell. Well, I suppose we should just carry on then."

Darcy gasped, pivoting to face him as the ocean winds pelted her dress against her legs. "Leave him?! Are you insane?! We can not just abandon him!"

"Poppycock, Miss Debooba. You heard him." Jack quipped, gesturing with his hand towards the rail as he spoke, "He basically inferred that we should be on our merry way. Besides, I can smell a storm approaching from the north."

Darcy curled her nose at him. "I do not believe that was what he meant."

With her words falling on deaf ears, he walked away from her with both hands tucked behind his back in uncouth arrogance as he barked out towards the ship crew, "Drop the sails and man the rudder! We're carrying on!"

"Aye-aye, Lord Grey!" All of the men shouted back, making Darcy scowl even deeper.

Stomping towards the beautiful man presently walking back to his cabin, she snapped loudly for the entire ship to hear, "How dare you! And you called that man your friend!"

Jack stopped walking, subtly turning his head to the side without actually looking at her. "And I called you my fiancé once upon a time, too. It changes nothing."

"And now suddenly, I no longer trust that you will continue your ridiculous farce as a nobleman to my Aunt Gertrude's family in America." She growled in anger with her hands fisted. "I never should have broken you out of prison, you detestable man."

Jack's shoulders went rigid before he turned completely around to face her. Moving two steps forward until his face was inches away from hers, he murmured in a cold, low voice of finality, "Look who has a brain up there in between that pretty head of curls after all? Well done, Debooba. I was beginning to think you didn't have it in you."

"What?!"

"That's right, you gorgeous broad." He muttered, studying her eyes with an intensity that nearly made her cower back, "I never intended on sticking around. You of all people should know by now that I don't make friends. Oh no, indeed. I make stepping stones, my dear Debooba, and you have been the biggest one by far."

Darcy's face paled, her lips parted in stunned hurt. Jack curled his upper lip at her in disdain and began to turn away when all at once, a shout bellowed down to them from up above in the crow's nest atop the main mast. "ME FLASK FELL! AYE BE AVAST WATCH YER HEAD AND--OH SHITE, BEG PARDON, MY LADY!!!"

Before he had a chance to blink, the flask in question careened on Darcy's head with a loud thud. His eyes rounded as he found himself immediately launching forward, "MISS DEBOOBA!!!!"

"OH!!!" She screamed back in fright and surprise right before her blue eyes rolled up into her skull, and she promptly collapsed in an unconscious heap within his arms.

"ARGH! DAMN IT, DEBOOBA!!!" He shouted again, screaming wildly for several minutes as he held her limp body, now a sack of veritable potatoes in his embrace.

"No! No, damn it! No!" He growled, burying his face into the crook of her limp neck, clutching her to him with white fists of despair. "You bitch! You beautiful, headstrong, fearless bitch!" He began to sob just as loudly as damn Henry down below.

Suddenly, her lashes fluttered open and she stared up at him, a small smile blooming. "Oh my...who are you?" Her hand lifted, clasping the side of his face with innate tenderness. It was such a foreign feeling to him, he could only blink down at her with his arms still wrapped tightly around her.

"I'm Jack, you dumb broad." He answered. "You hate me, remember?"

Her face lit up as a musical giggle escaped her lips, her smile pure and serene. "Who could ever hate such a prince? I think I love you."

Jack's eyes widened, his grip tightening as a thousand surpressed emotions hit him at once. Memories of a street urchin staring up at this beautiful dame through a passing carriage window plagued his mind.

Another memory of that same street urchin shuffling through the snow in a harsh night, walking through a neighborhood he should have been kicked out of upon sight. Nearing a glass window and placing his hand on it, his sapphire eyes peered in at this angel lounging contendly in her comfortable settee, drinking hot tea with her mother, laughing and singing carols by the fireplace.

Warmth...

A home...

Family...

Happiness...

Her.

All his life... longing for what he could not have, could never even dream of attaining...

"Darcy." He heard his own voice whisper aloud.

Her eyes flickered at the same time her smile grew. "Is that me? Ah hah hah. What's your name?"

Jack frowned in confusion, all those ridiculous, worthless feelings dissipating in an instant. "My name?" He clapped. "What the devil are you talking about?"

"Wait, what did you say my name was again? Oh yes, I remember. Fanny." She replied with a triumphamt beam.

Jack paled, realization dawning slowly upon him with an inkling of disbelief. "No... No, you're not that bitch. Don't be so hard on yourself, damn. You're Debooba. Darcy Annalise Debooba. You're the daughter of a Countess, and the jewel of England. You love dancing, games of wist, and taking strolls in your garden. You're afraid of thunderstorms and mice. Your favorite color is blue like your eyes, and you love your best friend, Jane like a sister. You wish you could find love. You dream of it. You almost found it, Darcy girl. You almost..." His words died out as he stared into her eyes, feeling himself being jilted entirely off his pedestal of self-preserved control.

She blinked up at him, her mouth forming into a silent "oh". Her arms came up, interlocking around his neck, leaving him falling further into a realm of sheer uncertainty and weakness. He abhorred it.

"So you love me too." She murmured in knowing with a breathless smile of elation.

Immediately, he released her, letting her tumble back clumsily as he rose to his feet with a cold look of contempt centered on her upturned face. "I have not, nor will I ever love a spoiled, rich brat like you, Debooba. Ever."

Turning, he walked away, leaving her there on the main deck as he growled towards the first mate, "Lock her back up."

"B-but, my lord... is the lady...sane?" The tubby man asked with concern drawn into his bushy brows.

Jack paused, briefly turning back to glance at her still seemingly demure countenance, her uplifted smile at him as she giggled and said, "You tease. I can tell. You're in love with me! Are you my husband?"

Stiffening, he lifted his chin, sliding his gaze back to the first mate. "I gave you an order. Now see that it is done."

"Aye, sir." The stoutly man lifted a hand to his hat before moving towards Debooba.

Jack promptly turned, striding away as an unnerving foreboding of the mother of all shitstorms hailed upon him.