Disclaimer: I’m not really putting one, because, obviously, I don’t own
anything but the idea.
Author’s notes (Without giving much away): This is all Denise’s fault.
Summary: Jack Sparrow meets an interesting character in… where else,
but a tavern!
This is a Highlander: The Series crossover. You could probably enjoy it
without knowing the Highlander character, but there are a few
‘in-jokes’ you won’t get.
“I met with pirates that wouldn’t die. They got shot, and stabbed, and
blown up. They fell down… sometimes. Mostly, they just continued
With a raised eyebrow, Methos, currently known as ‘Doc Adams’, turned
slightly on his bench and watched the table next to him from the corner
of his eye. His ‘quiet’ evening in a Tortuga tavern (meaning he stayed
in a dark corner and didn’t catch the eye of any of the whores) just
got a bit more interesting.
“An’, why are ye still ‘ere?” One of the scoundrels at the next table
“Me?” one of the men at the table asked before taking a gulp from his
mug. Waving a hand in a negligent manner, he continued, “I killed ‘em.”
The table, and a few others around them, burst into raucous laughter.
“You killed men that wouldn’t die?” the scoffer continued. “And, who do
ye think ye are, mate?”
The storyteller smirked. “I’m the cap’in of the Black Pearl.”
Benches scrapped against the planks of the tavern as the pirates and
whores who heard that statement backed away.
The scoffer’s eyes widened and his face paled in fright. Then, when the
storyteller didn’t do anything but gulp his rum, he burst into raucous
laughter. “Righ’. Ye be the pirate tha’ is so evil, so twisted, ‘Ell
itself spat ye out? If that be so, I be the Gov’ner of the whole
Swaying slightly in his seat, the storyteller grinned. “No,” he shook
his head, a moue of disgust on his face. “I’m not him.”
“Then, ye ain’ the Ap’tin of the Black Pearl.” The scoffer replied,
reaching to draw his pistol.
“I killed him.” The storyteller continued, swaying back, his nose
wrinkling slightly as he waved his right hand in the air. Then, he
grinned widely, eyes unfocussed as if remembering a very happy moment.
With a full body shake, he came back to the present and continued
gulping his rum, ignoring the pistol pointed at his head. Finally, he
glanced up. “Either use that or put it away. I’d prefer you didn’t
though. I didn’t like being dead the last time.”
Methos noticed that the storyteller hadn’t stopped slightly swaying
during the whole conversation.
“Ye want me to believe you killed a pirate who had been spat out of
hell and is unkillable? Who do you think you are?” the scoffer asked,
his pistol still trained at the storyteller’s head.
“I’m Captain Jack Sparrow,” the storyteller replied, one hand against
his breast, a serene smile on his lips, as if that explained
everything. “And, he was only unkillable…” Sparrow paused and gently
placed his mug on the roughly hewn table in front of him. Swayed a bit,
he raised his left hand, the first finger pointed in the air. Then,
leaning forward as if to tell a great secret, he continued, “Until I
figured out his weakness.”
By this time, the tables had thinned and it was soon only Sparrow and
the scoffer at the table next to Methos. Deciding to enter the
conversation, he turned fully to the other table. “And, what was that?”
Sparrow cocked his head to one side and stared at Methos, still
seemingly ignoring the pistol aimed at his head. “If I told you, mate,
I wouldn’t have an advantage, savvy?” Suddenly, a pistol retort sounded
from under Sparrow’s table. The scoffer looked down, surprised at the
blood seeping into his clothing. Then, looking up, his last view was
Sparrow saluting him with his still smoking pistol, a mad grin on his
Sparrow peered over the table at the now dead pirate. “Told him to do
something with that.”
Methos nodded, one eyebrow raised slightly. “Mind if I join you?”
“Got a name?” Sparrow asked, picking up his mug and taking a swig.
Looking forlorn, he upended the mug and peered into it. “My rum’s
gone,” he pouted. Slamming his mug against the table, he called out,
“WENCH! More rum!”
“I’m known as Doc Adams,” Methos replied, stepping over the cooling
body of the pirate and settling on the bench across from Sparrow.
“A doctor, eh?” the Captain of the Black Pearl asked as he reached
under the table and quickly rifled through the dead pirate’s body.
Uncocking the loaded pistol of the dead man, he placed it in the back
of his sash. “That’s interesting.” Squinting at Methos, he swayed
around in an uneven pattern between forward, backwards, and side to
side. “Of course, makes me wonder just what a doctor is doing in a
place like this.”
“Holiday,” Methos grinned and gave the serving wench a coin for the rum
she slammed down in front of the two men.
Sparrow gave a squeal of horror at the rum that sloshed out of his mug
and over his hand. Quickly licking it off so as not to waste any, he
turned back to Methos with raised eyebrows. When he had finished
cleaning his hand, he asked, “Are you enjoying your holiday?”
Methos shrugged. “It’s been… interesting.”
“Be you looking for a berth anytime soon?”
“Perhaps. But, you should know. I don’t like water.”
Sparrow threw his head back and laughed. “A man in a pirate’s safehold,
not liking water.”
“Do you have a big ship?”
“Tell you what, mate,” Sparrow said, standing up. After swaying a bit,
he stumbled, as if half drunk, around the table and pulled Methos off
the bench and threw an arm around his shoulders. “We’ll go down to the
docks together, you can look over the Pearl, and we can reach an accord
right there. Savvy?”
And, a beautiful friendship was formed! [sniff]
I was tempted to make it Amanda, but I liked the tavern scene idea. I
don’t see Amanda in a tavern like that without causing a lot of death
and destruction (I personally don’t see her taking men trying to treat
her like a cheap whore),
Do you know how hard it is to transfer Jack Sparrow to paper? I can see
the movements in my head (And, Denise can see me do them as I write
this), but it’s driving me batty transferring it to paper!
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