Jack stirred at the sound, blinking as if dragged out of a dream he hadn't wanted to leave. He pushed himself up from where he'd been sprawled on the deck, hat crooked over one eye.
"What?" he muttered, then his eyes snapped toward the horizon.
"Where is my ship?"
He moved quickly to the rail, squinting into the distance. When he spotted the dark shape cutting through the water, his expression shifted—sleep gone, focus sharp.
…There she was.
The Black Pearl.
"Crew, prepare for a fight," Jack said, already moving across the deck.
Instead of heading for the rail or the helm, he walked straight toward Daniel—and stopped right behind him.
The crew stared.
Gibbs frowned. "Captain… what exactly are you doing?"
Jack adjusted his coat and peeked around Daniel's shoulder. "As your captain, it's my duty to survive long enough to pay you all," he said calmly. "And at the moment, this"—he gestured at Daniel without shame—"is the safest place on the ship."
A few sailors exchanged looks.
Jack kept his eyes on the dark shape cutting through the water toward them. He hadn't expected to run into the Black Pearl this soon—not before Isla de Muerta. And he knew better than anyone what that ship carried.
"They're cursed," Jack muttered. "Steel won't stop them. Bullets won't either."
He leaned slightly closer to Daniel. "So until further notice," he added, "you're my shield."
Daniel didn't move. "You're welcome."
Jack smiled faintly, glancing at Daniel. "I knew I picked the right traveling companion."
"You might want to warn your crew to take cover," he said, voice steady. "Of course, if they're particularly fond of death, they're welcome to stay. The pirates they'll be facing don't fall easily—and they don't die."
That got their attention.
The crew exchanged uneasy looks. A few laughed nervously—then remembered the stories.
"Well," one of them muttered, already backing away, "no shame in living to drink another day."
Within seconds, pirates were scrambling. Barrels were dragged open, crates overturned, hatches lifted. One by one, they disappeared into hiding places all over the ship.
Gibbs hesitated, then let out a weary sigh.
"I really hate it when the stories turn out to be true."
Without another word, he glanced around, spotted an empty barrel, and promptly ducked inside, pulling the lid down.
Jack adjusted his coat and planted himself firmly behind Daniel. "See?" he said, nodding toward the crew vanishing into barrels. "Morale's excellent."
Ahead of them, the Black Pearl drew closer, its sails dark against the horizon.
"Pirates really are—" Elizabeth began, eyes following the crew as they scattered.
"We are scum," Jack supplied with a grin. "Better no shame than no life."
Daniel nodded once. "He's not wrong. There's no shame in surviving."
He glanced at the hiding pirates. "Though pirates do take it to an impressive extreme."
And soon, the Black Pearl closed the distance.
The ghostly ship drew alongside the Interceptor, its dark hull looming close.
Without warning, ropes flew through the air.
Grappling hooks bit into the railings and rigging as the cursed pirates swung across, boots slamming hard onto the deck. One after another, they boarded with practiced speed, landing, rolling, rising instantly with swords drawn.
"Kill them!"
"Take the ship!"
But when the cursed pirates landed on the deck, they froze.
The Interceptor was almost empty.
No crew rushing to meet them.
No blades raised.
Just three figures.
One man standing calmly at the center of the deck.
A woman beside him, tense but unmoving.
And behind the man—another figure half-hidden, clearly trying very hard not to be seen.
The pirates exchanged looks.
"What the hell…?" one of them muttered, scratching his head. "Where's the crew?"
Another kicked a barrel. It didn't move.
"This is a ship of this size," one pirate said suspiciously. "You don't sail her with ghosts."
"Aye," another agreed. "Crew's meant to defend the ship."
He scanned the deck again. "So where are they?"
Then one pirate pointed slowly.
"…Are those three all that's left?"
Then one of the pirates narrowed his eyes.
"Oi," he said slowly, pointing. "You lot see that bloke there?"
The others followed his gaze.
"Blond hair," the pirate went on.
"Blue eyes."
"And clothes I've never seen on any ship."
Murmurs rippled through the boarding party.
"That him?"
"The one that guy was talkin' about?"
"The one who fooled us?"
Their grip on their weapons tightened as they stared at Daniel.
Behind him, Jack leaned out just enough to peek, then immediately leaned back again.
"…I don't like the way they're looking at you, mate," he muttered.
The pirates broke into smiles as they started walking toward Daniel. They hadn't expected to find the man they were searching for so quickly.
"Well, that was easy—"
"Eww," Daniel said flatly, cutting them off. He stared at the teeth exposed by their grins. "Your teeth are ugly."
The pirates slowed.
"Don't you lot ever brush?" Daniel added, sounding genuinely confused, as if he weren't facing armed pirates. "I mean, I know you're pirates, but still."
He waved a hand in front of his face. "And you smell horrible. Stay right there. Don't come any closer."
Daniel frowned slightly. Enhanced senses had their drawbacks. Last time he hadn't noticed—probably because he'd been hiding in a wardrobe, and the clothes had blocked most of it. Now there was nothing dulling the stench.
The pirates stopped.
Smiles gone.
Offended.
"…Did he just insult us?" one muttered.
Another's jaw tightened. "Aye. I think he did."
*****
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