Oh yes, it’s a piece of self-indulgent sort of fan fiction. I’m up to eight chapters, but you’re only getting the first one here. I intend to finish it, but life has a nasty way of intruding upon my fantasy life.
It was the smell that brought Casey out of the miasma of her dreams. Hard worn sweat mingled with the salty bite of the sea all laced with exotic spice, rum, and… apples. Adrenaline raced through Casey’s heart just as a hand clamped down over her mouth. Her hazel green eyes fluttered open and she could not stop the muffled scream as she stared down the barrel of a pistol.
“Make not a sound, miss, and I’ll be putting away my weapon.”
Casey tore her gaze from the pistol and found herself looking into a weather-beaten face of a man wearing a wide-brimmed hat with an ostrich feather stuck into the band. Her mind was racing into overdrive and she was desperately hoping that she was dreaming.
“Just nod yer head, miss. Can I trust ye not to scream?”
Casey blinked and quickly nodded. The pistol was removed as the pirate shoved it into his belt. I know he’s a pirate, she thought, but why? Casey scrambled from under the confining covers of her bed as he removed his hand. She was soon sitting up, pressed up against the headboard. She tried to speak but found that her voice had failed her.
The pirate sat upon the side of her bed, uncomfortably close. Rummaging around in a pocket, he pulled out an apple and bit into the fruit. He offered it to Casey.
“N-no no thank you,” her voice trembled. She closed her mouth tightly and watched as he finished the apple.
She couldn’t see him very well in the darkness of her bedroom, but her mind was quickly filling in the details. Casey realized she knew this pirate, but her shaken mind could not settle on how she knew him.
The pirate tossed the core of the apple to the floor. “I don’t suppose you know where my ship is?”
“The Pearl, you m-m-mean?”
“Aye, the Black Pearl. The fastest ship on sea.”
The Black Pearl. Barbossa. That was all that was needed to send Casey’s mind over the edge. Everything in her bedroom spun, the walls seemed to be peeling, and a heavier darkness threatened to settle down over her.
“Barbossa… no, you’re not… real.” ESCAPE! her mind screamed. Casey tumbled awkwardly from her bed and let out a yelp as the pirate caught her. He wrapped an arm tightly about her and once more his hand went over her mouth. She struggled, but the effort was useless. He was bigger than she was and he had her well trapped.
Barbossa spoke into Casey’s ear, “Now ye’ve just broken yer promise, lass. Tis not my intention to harm ye. I just want some answers. Now, calm yerself and let us both solve this mystery. No screams?”
Casey drew in a shuddering, difficult breath through her nose and nodded. The pirate let her go and Casey drew away, leaning against the bedpost.
“You can’t be here. You’re a piece of fiction. A character in a movie.” Casey’s eyes strayed over the pirate’s shoulder to the far corner of her bedroom. Something was missing.
“Aye, that sounds true to me, although I’ve no knowledge of what a movie be. Ye say I’m something from a story?”
Moving slowly toward her bookcase, Casey switched on a small table lamp. The pale light hit the pirate and she almost wished she hadn’t turned on the light. Barbossa sat upon her bed, alive and breathing. Turning briefly away, she grabbed a book from her shelf and then shoved it at him. “This is a photo book of scenes from the movie, the story.”
Barbossa removed the flimsy book from her fingers and began to flip through the pages. “Ahhh, there’s the Pearl. And that damned Jack Sparrow.” His eyebrows rose as he came across a photo of several pirates in a cave surrounded by gold. “My death. Does this story continue with my resurrection?”
“Yes, in a second movie. Jack Sparrow dies at the end of that one and…”
“…and takes my ship with him.” Barbossa closed the book and dropped it on the bed.
“Th-there’s going to be a third movie. I don’t know how it ends.”
“All stories with pirates eventually end with an epic battle.” He grinned and rose to his feet. “This doesn’t solve our little problem, lass.”
“Casey,” she blurted and immediately wished she’d kept her mouth shut.
“Casey it is, then. Now how do you think I came into your world, Casey?”
Casey sighed, shook her head and looked over to the corner of her room again. Barbossa stepped up beside her and yanked aside the heavy curtains. Outside, hanging heavily in the night sky, was a blue moon. She turned slightly, uneasily aware of how close he stood to her.
“According to legend around here, a blue moon is such a rarity, that it opens the way between worlds. I suppose…” Casey drew in a sharp breath as she felt his fingers brush lightly over her dark, red curls.
“What is the perfume ye’re wearing, Casey?” He asked, leaning closer.
Casey ducked beneath his arm and headed for the corner. “It’s Irish Spring! Don’t make me break my promise again, Captain,” she warned.
“Truce, then.” Barbossa backed away slightly and took a seat in the large, leather chair near Casey’s bookcase. “So ye think the blue moon’s brought me forth from the pages of yer story?” He nodded toward the book on the bed.
“Well, no. I mean, yes, but not from there. I work at the theatre and I took home one of the displays. A life-size cardboard standup of Captain Barbossa… of you. I had it standing here, in the corner, and it’s, well, gone.” She pointed lamely at the empty corner and then at Barbossa himself. As she met his blue eyes, blood rushed to her cheeks and she felt dizzy.
“Ye seem to have a bit of trouble with fainting, Casey.”
She was startled by how fast and silently he had reached her. The pirate stood directly in front of her. “No, I don’t,” she asserted, forcing her senses to get a grip. “Characters from movies just don’t come to life in my bedroom late at night on a regular basis. Maybe such things seem ordinary for you, but they aren’t for me!” She planted her hands against his chest in an attempt to push him backwards. He was unmovable. A stone with a smug grin. “Would you give me some space to myself? I can’t think with you standing over me like that!”
He raised his hand, abruptly, and Casey smacked back into the corner. “Keep yer voice down,” he warned.
“You know what?” Casey sidled away from the corner. “I don’t have to keep my voice down. There’s no one to wake up. This is my home.” Her voice returned to normal, although there was still a slight shake beneath it. “You don’t belong here. I don’t know what the hell is going on, but you can’t stay.”
“I quite agree, Casey,” he agreed in a buisness-like tone. “As comfortable as your world looks so far,” Barbossa’s eyes drifted appreciably over her pale lavender, silk nightgown. “I much prefer my ship and my own troubles to it. So what do we do about this night of the blue moon? What does legend say?”
Grabbing her robe from the foot of her bed, Casey slipped it on over the sleeveless gown. “The blue moon’s phase lasts a fortnight. I suppose, if the way is open between your reality and mine, then it will last for that length of time.” The realization that she’d be stuck with a fictional pirate in her house for two weeks was just one more overwhelming moment this night had to offer. She’d really need to get a grip or she’d spend two weeks jumping at every little thing.
“Fourteen days,” mumbled Barbossa.
“Not days,” Casey automatically corrected. “Nights only. When the moon is shining.” She looked over just as he smiled again. “And stop with that smug look! You need your fingernails trimmed and a long, hot shower before I’d even think…!” This time Casey slapped her own hand over her mouth. What the hell was she saying?!
Barbossa chuckled and walked over to the door of her bedroom. “I think I’ll go for a walk, if ye don’t mind. I might as well make the best of my time here.” As he passed Casey, he whispered, “Maybe ye’ll tell me what this shower is if ye change yer mind.” The pirate swept out of her room and Casey slammed the door shut behind him. She then locked it as well.
