Take Off Your Dress, Pick Up A Sword

a gathering storm

Joanna woke suddenly, facing an unfamiliar ceiling. She was belowdecks. The bed seemed to sway beneath her, which she thought was quite odd until she realized it was a hammock.

She wasn't sure what had woken her until he materialized above her, dreadlocks swinging. "G'morning, Joanna," Jack Sparrow chirped. "Sweet dreams?"

Joanna carefully sat up, squinting as she recalled the adventures of the previous days. "I dreamt I busted a man from jail and stole a ship," she said dryly. "Oh wait."

"After today, you can add sailed with a buccaneer crew! How exciting," Jack said. "Need a hand?"

She grudgingly took the proffered appendage, never having escaped a hammock before and undesiring of a tumble to the floor. When her feet touched the ground, she found herself toe-to-toe with Jack.

Brown eyes, she observed; it was something she had already noted, but now she saw there were no poetically placed specks of gold or hazel. "You're the only man I know who wears makeup," she said quietly, conscious of the lack of space between them.

Jack smiled, freshly-outlined eyes crinkling. "'s called kohl," he said. "Protects against the sun."

It was strange and exotic and Joanna thought it would make him pretty, if not for the beard.

She stepped away, fishing in her pockets for a hair tie. "It's striking," she said, and followed up quickly so he couldn't comment on her admission, "Where's Will?"

Jack pointed at the ceiling. "Above. Readying the boat."

Joanna found the ribbon she'd been searching for and set about removing her hair from her face. "You trust him with that?" She asked with a smirk.

"'s a hard thing to muck up," Jack adduced. He extended his right hand with a pointed look. Joanna stared dumbly at it for a moment -- one ring, emerald and silver -- before she realized he was offering to tie back her hair.

It had been a long time since someone did it for her. She swallowed, thought what the hell, and dropped the ribbon into his hand.

The ribbon was actually a strip carved from her old skirt, but it served well. With a warm face, Joanna turned away from Jack, presenting him with her caramel, lopsided locks. Not long ago, in a fit of frustration, Joanna had attempted to shear off several inches on the right side. She'd immediately hated it so stopped halfway through.

Jack's warm fingers slipped beneath the curtain of hair, brushing against her neck. With practiced ease, he gathered her tangles into the makeshift ribbon and tied it on the first try. Considering the uneven state of her hair, Joanna found herself impressed.

"Thanks," she said quietly, turning to him again. His returning gaze was heavy and prompted Joanna into a small shiver.

Suddenly skittish, she strode for the stairs. "Best get going," she tossed over her shoulder. She didn't wait for Jack's response.

~

I don't even like him, she stewed on the way to the docks. Well, I certainly don't trust him.

Will was rowing because Joanna didn't want to, and Will wasn't in the habit of crossing her, and Jack didn't want to, and he was the captain. So Joanna watched the oars cut through the murky water, frowning into her knees.

He's interesting. And unlike anyone I have ever known, Joanna allowed. But he has threatened Will.

And anyone who did that was not her friend -- even if they spouted beguiling percentages at her and did her hair with gentle hands.