The Collector |Sequel to Collector of Odd|

VII |Dangerous Encounters|

Temptation should not always be taken.

          "SHOW A LEG, SAILOR!" The screeching demand from the man Mirela had held her sword to amused her. Her lips curled into a fox like grin as she watched the ever-famous Captain Jack Sparrow tumble out of his hammock. Her sandy orbs flicker with amusement before she was suddenly glaring at a man who brushed past her much to roughly. Her top lip curled back to reveal silver capped canines, a glimmer of something dark flashed across her face before she simply huffed in irritation and made her way back on deck.

          "Why is there a glass coffin?" Jack's voice reached Mirela's ears before she found him, the poor sap was hunched over, trying to interrogate Scrum why also playing it off like he was mopping. She shook her head at the man, her left hand came to rest lazily on the hilt of her sword before she stepped out from the shadows of the stairs and began to make her way toward her pirate.

          "Do I look like the man in charge?!" Scrums explanation had Mirela's lips curling in amusement, her sandy orbs rolled at the two men. She had just about made it to Jack when the Quartermaster stepped in her way, an almost growl of a sound left the large man's lips. Mirela simply looked up at the man with an irritated look, her face curled up into a scowl. "If I wasn't allowed to be wondering about, I'd be in the brig. Now move you dog." Her words were harsh, snapped out at him with a such force that the Quartermaster could almost feel their bite. The man moved, but he didn't stop watching her.

          "Where am I?" Jack had looked up at Scrum with his brows creased, his hands no longer working to scrub the deck. The man wouldn't admit it, but he was scared to find out the answer.

           "Why my dear Jack, welcome to Queen Anne's Revenge." The voice that answered him was velvety, a purr he almost forgot about in his panic of waking up in an unknown place. Brown eyes met hazel, hazel orbs that were much darker than he first remembered them. That's right.. She was mad at him. Jack flashed a smile her way, showing her his gold caps, but then, her words sunk in and a look crossed his face like he had seen a ghost. It couldn't be, it couldn't be Blackbeard's ship, but as he searched Mirela's eyes for any form of deceit he realized he was in far more trouble than he would have liked.

          Mirela extended a hand to Jack, a hand riddled with scars and dirt. She needed to talk to him, not about what she had saw between him and Blackbeard's daughter, but about the situation entirely. She knew he would have questions. Sparrow glanced around quickly, his eyes nervously glancing at Gunner who was watching over the deck swabbers. "They wouldn't dare cross a gypsy, they know better." Her words weren't just said to calm Jack, but they were a jab at him. He knew they were, and he visibly flinched at them. Yes, Mirela, was still very cross with him.

           Taking her hand, Jack scrambled to his feet as the gypsy quickly turned on her heel and begun to pull him in some direction he knew not. Mirela had released his hand the moment she ducked into the shadows created by the stairs and roughly shoved him so his back hit one of the walls of the ship. Her arms were crossed when he trailed his eyes up her body to meet her eyes, and oh, those eyes were stormy. Even though Jack knew he shouldn't, he couldn't help but send her a flirtatious smile and admire how stunning she looked when she was angry.

          "Listen Jack and listen close." Her words were short, causing his smile to fall and his brows to crease into a serious expression. Well, an as serious expression as one Jack Sparrow could muster. "I don't know what plan you have up your sleeve, but I know you have one." She raised her hand as he opened his mouth. "I don't want to know what it is or isn't." She sent a pointed look to him, knowing damn well he was probably about to deny any plan. "I'm here because I told you I'd come back to you, I'm not happy about it currently, but we gypsy's hold up to our word." She exhaled tiredly then, her arms uncrossing so she could run her hand through her tangled tresses. She was oh so tired.

          Jack's chest hurt at those words, he felt like he'd been struck, and this feeling was much worse than the many slaps he had actually received. Jack Sparrow hesitantly reached out his hand, curling his fingers around her wrist, and when she didn't jerk her arm away he pulled her to him gently. "I never doubted you." His words were whispered, his right hand came up to cup the back of her skull as she nestled into his chest.

          Jack wondered briefly how she was able to walk among the crew of Queen Anne's Revenge without so much as a second glance her way, however, he had other things to worry about at the moment. Placing a chaste kiss to the top of Mirela's head, the overly dramatic pirate held the gypsy at arm's length in order to send her a gentle smile and then dip out from behind the stairs in order to find Scrum. He needed information.

           Mirela watched as Jack scampered back to his new-found friend, her sandy orbs were much calmer compared to what they were. She wanted to stay angry with Jack, she really did, but deep down she knew she would never be able to. The man held more than just her heart, he held her soul, and even though this wasn't how she had intended their reunion to go, she wouldn't have it any other way. Jack Sparrow was an odd man, a man of many things, things that Mirela admired. She slumped against the corner under the cover of the stairs, her back rested painfully against the rough wood, but she didn't mind.

            With a sigh, the young gypsy watched the men on deck. She was out of sight, and therefore out of mind. Maybe she would be able to piece together a plan, a plan that Jack obviously did not have at the moment. Turning her head toward the sea, Mirela whispered words to her friend. "I can only imagine what you have in store for me now, Calypso."