***HUGE SPOILERS FOR POTC 2!! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!***
Title: There’s A Pirate In My Soup
Rating: 15 (mostly for language)
Disclaimer: Don’t own them.
Summary: ‘End of the world’ can be interpreted many ways . . .
Spoilers: Huge spoilers for the second POTC movie. You have been warned! S7 for BTVS.
Though it had been a little amusing to see Jack Sparrow have hysterics over the supposed shrinking and imprisonment of his precious Pearl into a ‘damnable black box’, Dawn found that the situation quickly lost its entertainment value. Especially once Jack had come to understand that his boat wasn’t actually locked in the television set. This realization sent the crazy Captain into a whirlwind of revelations, first and foremost being that he was very far from home.
And once he conceived how far, that’s when Dawn suspected that Jack began to feel a bit of fear. As it was, the sheer implications of the TV and the stereo system in the Common Room seemed a bit too mind-blowing for their simple little pirate. But once the Slayers started popping in movies, rewinding and forwarding and pausing random scenes, Jack Sparrow had had enough.
Willow retired him to one of the spare bedrooms. Dawn had been stunned. She wasn’t aware that there were spare rooms. Everything she had seen had led her to believe this place was bursting at the seams it was so full. She was assuming the lack of space was the reason why she was sleeping on the floor of Willow’s room. But she was starting to suspect that might not be the reason after all. And if it hadn’t been for the sudden appearance of Jack’s huge pirate ship in the middle of Lake Erie, and the subsequent CNN coverage, Dawn probably would have made a big stink about it.
So she resolved to make a little stink out of it.
“Why does the pirate get his own room and I get your floor?” Dawn asked, making sure to draw out a few of her words to make them that much more annoying.
“Because the pirate is on the verge of complete emotional collapse, and the last time we left you to your own devices, you burnt a hole through the floor,” Willow didn’t even bother looking up as she explained. She was too busy flipping through one of her many witch textbooks to find an answer for all their problems. Dawn doubted there was anything in any of them that gave instructions on how to handle a pirate ship magically appearing in Lake Erie while its captain has a nervous breakdown three doors over.
But hey, she had been wrong before.
“Those aren’t going to help.” She just didn’t think now was one of those times.
Willow snapped her book shut with a bit more force than necessary. It caused dust to fly up everywhere, and most importantly, right up Willow’s nose. And then she was sneezing, so that any look of reprimand she had planned had flown the coop. Dawn loved it when she won by default.
Before Willow could gather up for round two, Marcus suddenly appeared at the doorway looking very much askew. Dawn frowned at the sight of him. “Did you just go for a nooner in one of the broom closets?”
Okay, now Willow was starting to sound genuinely mad. Dawn decided to pull it back just a bit. Maybe being annoying wasn’t the way to go today.
Marcus, though very much British and therefore very much flustered by what she had suggested, got down to business. “I found him.”
“Giles?” Dawn was being too hopeful.
“Uh, no, I wasn’t looking for Mr. Giles. I was looking for our smelly little friend. And I found him.”
“Well duh. He’s like two doors down.”
“In the books Dawn. He found him in the books.” Willow’s face was getting kind of red. And one of her nostrils was twitching. Dawn suspected the witch was nearing the end of her rope. It might have been funny if she wasn’t scared Willow would go ape shit on her if she laughed.
“Yes, well, he might be who he says he is,” Marcus steamrolled on, like he wasn’t in the company of two infuriating Americans. What a trooper. “I found mentions of a Captain Jack Sparrow in the first stages of research. Janet even found some information on him through that blasted machine-”
“Yes, whatever.” Dawn had to shake her head. Watchers!
“So, what does the research say? He’s not wanted for murder or anything too heinous, is he?”
“Well, I don’t know about that,” Marcus seemed a bit uncomfortable. Dawn realized he probably hadn’t thought about that possibility. “But I do know that he has had quite the track record with magic. What with the cursed Aztec gold, undead pirates, mythical sea creatures-”
“Undead pirates?” Willow looked kind of upset by that little bit. “You mean he’s dealt with zombie pirates or something?”
“Well, not quite. These pirates weren’t technically dead, but they were undead for a while, and they weren’t, and then most of them were really dead soon after. I think.”
And the award for Most Incoherent British Blather goes to . . .
“What?” Willow shook her head. “Whatever, I don’t think that I want to know. All I really want to know is if there’s a way for us to make sure he’s really who he says he is, and what the hell brought him here.”
“Well, the one of the tidbits we found tells of how Captain Jack Sparrow suddenly disappeared one day, taking his ship with him,” Marcus was scratching his nose as he read from his notes. Dawn wondered if that meant he was confused, or it was just something that he did. “Most accounts attribute his disappearance to some foolhardy pact he had made with Davy Jones some thirteen years before.”
Okay, now Dawn had to butt in. “Davy Jones?” she repeated, her eyebrows practically up to her hairline. “As in Davy Jones’s Locker, Davy Jones?”
“Well, er, yes.”
Willow dropped her witch books and rubbed at her temples. “Okay, he made a pact with Davy Jones, of Davy Jones’s Locker, which makes Mr. Jones the Mephistopheles of the sea, or something?”
“It would appear so.”
“Okay and what about the Kraken? What’s that thing got to do with it?”
“Well, apparently Davy Jones can call it to do his bidding, but that’s just hearsay.”
Dawn rolled her eyes. “We have anything other than hearsay? Say like actual fact?”
Marcus glowered a bit. “I’m working on it.”
“So is CNN. Let’s see who’s faster.”
Willow was probably going to scold her for that one, but before she had the chance, there was a stampede of Slayers that deposited themselves right in between the three of them.
“We’ve got a problem!” one of the older looking blondes yelled. Dawn squinted at her. Beth?
“What’s wrong, Betty?”
Crap, so close.
“Well, it’s that thing with the pirate. We left him in the room because you said he needed peace and quiet so he didn’t completely freak out. So we left, and then we went back to check, because he’s a pirate and kind of cute, but anyway, he’s not there.”
Willow blinked. “He’s what?”
“He’s not there,” Betty repeated. “And the window was open. We think he’s making a break for it.”
“What’s ‘it‘?” Marcus couldn’t help but ask.
“The only ‘it’ there could be for him. He’s gone after that damn boat.”
Dawn snorted. “And how does the genius plan on getting there?”
Willow shook her head. “I don’t know, and I don’t really care. Get the older girls in cars and the others on foot. I want Captain Sparrow found and brought back immediately before someone finds him.”
Dawn rolled her eyes. “Knowing our luck, he’ll end up as a guest on Larry King Live before we find him.”
Willow gave her an exasperated look, but didn’t disagree. She only waved her hands at the Slayers dismissively, and off went the Slayer Stampede in the direction it had come from. Dawn hopped to her feet and followed.
There was a manhunt to organize.