hello! ainsley here. before you read, please check out the absolutely INSANE artwork @Rosebud1208 made of joanna! it's cotbp joanna (left) vs dmc joanna (right). it's so close to my vision of joanna that i'm almost convinced rosebud peeked inside my brain before drawing it (she even got how joanna's nose turns up! and look at the little reference to gulliver's travels, the book joanna gives jack in cotbp! look at the way the sword turns from wood to metal! and the needle and thread into black pearls!) THANK YOU again for the time and effort put into this art, rosebud. it gives me so much serotonin.  

also, today is my birthday! as a present, maybe you all could leave a comment and/or a vote? :) 

brief disclaimer: i'm not a doctor nor a palm reader. 

read on! have a great day. <3

There was a flurry of sound, punctuated by the thump of Joanna's head hitting the deck.

She stared into the cloudless sky, dazed. It was a pretty morning -- the sky was swathed in pink to the east, bathed in baby blue to the west. Am I dead?

Seven heads popped one-by-one into Joanna's field of vision. Chief among them was Jack, dreadlocks swinging as he hovered over her face. She heard her name, uttered with varying levels of distress. Ragetti's wobbling voice rose above them all, crying, "You killed her!"

"That's the point," Pintel snapped back. More timidly, he asked, "Is she dead?"

"My God," Gibbs said with astonishment.

"It's her ear," Marty exclaimed in realization.

Joanna winced, squeezing her eyes shut, as someone jostled her head. That someone was Jack, guiding her chin gently to the left. "Damn," he said, quiet and appraising.

Joanna opened her eyes and saw one of her earrings, laying beside her head, stained with scarlet. She jerked to touch the right side of her head, but Jack deftly caught her hand. "No, better not," he muttered. Louder, he ordered, "Gibbs, get bandages. And rum. Lotsa that."

"What happened," Joanna demanded, voice rising in pitch. As the adrenaline faded, the pain blossomed, throbbing where her ear should have been. "Jack -- Jack, what did --"

"Shh." Jack shushed her sympathetically. He raised his head to address those nearby. "Oi, back off. Give her space."

Joanna relaxed minutely as the crowd bustled away, but she couldn't seem to stop shaking. "You shot off my ear," she said dumbly. She could feel the blood, now, soaking her shoulder.

"Uh -- yes." Jack peered down at her. In an uncharacteristically tender gesture, he brushed Joanna's mussed bangs from her eyes. "All's fair, luv."

"I did try and kill you," Joanna agreed. She tried for a smile, clenching her teeth around uneven breaths. "I'm bleeding all over your pretty deck."

Jack grinned. "That you are."

...

"Oh," Joanna said a little later, pivoting to catch her reflection in Jack's ostentatious, floor-length mirror. She had dropped the old, rum-soaked shirt she was keeping pressed to her injury, revealing its gory glory. It was stinging incessantly, sending pangs through Joanna's skull.

"Oh," Jack agreed, swaying over her shoulder. He ogled the scraps of cartilage that formerly made up Joanna's left ear. "You're a real pirate now, luv."

The bleeding had, mercifully, slowed; it seemed head wounds truly did bleed exorbitantly, in accordance with hearsay. Joanna felt woozy with blood loss and shock. Perhaps that was why the tears came, slow and soundless down her cheeks.

"Was I not before?" Joanna asked, quiet so her voice wouldn't break.

Jack's tentative, good-natured smile fell. "'Course you were, darling." He touched her elbow, gesturing in the direction of his bed. "Sit down 'fore you fall down. You're white as a sheet."

Joanna chose instead to drop into Jack's desk chair, kicking the floor to turn the cumbersome seat toward her companion. Shifting her eyes to the desktop, Joanna ran her damp gaze over Jack's doodles and notes. On the corner of Jack's logbook was a tiny elephant, drawn with dusty coal. The fondness that stirred in Joanna's chest was accompanied by hurt. "Were you...were you aiming for my head?"

Jack took too long to respond. Joanna instructed herself not to look at him. "I hit my mark," Jack replied carefully.

She closed her eyes. "You always do."

"Were you aiming for my hand?"

Joanna blearily lifted her head. "What?"

At that moment, the door swung open. It was Gibbs, bearing gifts -- a roll of cloth bandages and more than one bottle of rum. "Bleedin' stopped?" He inquired.

"What took you so long?" Jack demanded, although Joanna could tell his heart wasn't in it. "I don't pay you to stand around, Gibbsy."

"You don't pay me," Gibbs returned wryly. As he passed by on his way to Joanna, Gibbs forcibly checked Jack's shoulder; Jack grinned in reply, plucking a bottle of his favorite beverage from Gibbs' arms. "Even so, here're these. Won't do to catch infection."

"Thanks," Joanna said softly, accepting the roll of surprisingly clean bandages. Like her name, there wasn't much on the Black Pearl that was spotless and white. "I'm not sure how to wrap my ear."

"Under your chin and over your head," Gibbs advised sagely. Jack observed Joanna from behind his quartermaster's shoulder, lazily swigging rum.

Joanna swallowed the remerging urge to cry. She'd cried more in the last few days than in the last entire year. "I'll look ridiculous," she said tightly.

Gibbs shook his head, smiling small and fond. "You're as vain as he is." He jerked a thumb at Jack, whose jaw dropped in offense (but he noticeably did not argue).

Joanna's hands had stopped their irritating trembling. Feeling numb, she began unwinding the bandages.

"Lemme help," Jack said, snatching them from her hands. Joanna let him, studying his serious face as he knelt before her. His brow wrinkled. "...Does it hurt?"

Joanna made a show of rolling her eyes. Her ear hurt something awful -- pricking with pain and stinging from alcohol -- but she felt safer with it being hidden away, and she felt safer with Jack touching her gently and apologizing in his way. "Yes, it bloody hurts."

"Sorry." Jack sounded amused, not apologetic. "Well, were you?"

"Was I what?" Joanna's brow furrowed, puzzled by the sudden intimacy in his voice -- a quick glance around revealed that Gibbs had vanished, probably while Joanna was staring at her hands and feeling sorry for herself. She blinked as Jack's hands brushed her face; he was curving the snowy fabric around the crown of her head. "Oh. No. I wasn't really...aiming."

"Admirable strategy," Jack deduced. He shook his right arm meaningfully. Peeking at his wrist, Joanna was shocked to see a circular tear in the billow of his sleeve. "You damn near hit me, though."

Joanna smirked.

"No need to look so pleased," Jack grumbled, busy with a knot under her chin. "Thought we were friends, Anna."

It was a throwaway quip, but Joanna replied sincerely. "We are," she said. "And that's why I was so upset."

Finished, Jack sat back on his heels. He regarded Joanna earnestly. "Y'often aim a gun at your friends?"

Fingering the tidy knot under her chin, Joanna smiled. "It's how we met."

Jack grinned, hopping to his feet. When he offered his hands to Joanna, she took them, allowing herself to be pulled slowly to stand. "'S your honor restored?" He inquired, voice low. He lifted her hands to brush kisses over her knuckles.

"It's not about my honor." Joanna blushed as Jack turned one of her palms over, trailing his lips over the tiny, blue veins decorating the underside of her wrist. The tiny beads adorning his beard felt cool against her skin. "It was about revenge."

Jack retreated slightly in order to effectively bat his eyelashes. "Did you get it?"

"Not really." Joanna admitted. She thought of the fear that had overwhelmed her as she held the gun; the fear that had brought sweat to her palms and spots to her vision. In the end, Joanna was relieved to have not slain Jack Sparrow. "But I'll be satisfied with what I got."

"Well, that's what matters, innit?" Jack released her hands in favor of cupping her face, careful of her bandages. "An' you'll be pleased to know -- you don't look ridiculous."

"That's what you think," said Joanna primly, bolting from his arms to find the mirror. When she stood before it, she cringed. "You're a goddamn liar, Jack. I should duel you twice."

Jack popped up beside her, tugging her into his side with a shit-eating grin. "Not ninety-nine more times?"

Firmly, Joanna disclosed, "They aren't Will." She turned her face to Jack, smiling to see his warm eyes. "And you're worth the ninety-nine."

...

After she had gathered her composure, Jack held open the cabin door for Joanna in an imitation of chivalry. She stepped out onto the main deck, squinting a bit in the sun, and immediately split into a grin at the modest cheer that went up. Even Ho-Kwan offered a round of grudging applause.

"Thanks," she said bashfully, beaming with sudden delight. Perhaps the hole cut through her ear was extraordinary, marking her as a woman who had survived a duel with a Pirate Lord.

...

The Black Pearl glided into Tortuga as evening fell, a living legend, leaving the harbor awash with wide eyes and murmurs.

Joanna declined to go ashore on account of looking absurd. The wrappings flattened the hair on top of her head but caused the front and back to poof unattractively. Joanna assured herself she would look properly terrifying once the wound was healed.

Her sense of hearing, thankfully, seemed intact. As the Pearl made port and Joanna hustled to help, she was able to hear the commands of Jack and Gibbs fine enough, although the bandages certainly muffled the nuances of their voices.

Following this bout of seamanship, Joanna collected three things: the two bullets she and Jack had shot at each other (both pressed deep into the wood of the ship -- Joanna whispered the Pearl a heartfelt apology for the damage) and her fallen earring, glimmering innocuously against the Pearl's black hide.

These mementos she dropped into her sea chest, joining ranks with the other things Joanna had gathered since meeting Jack Sparrow.

Joanna gazed at the collection. Black pearls and bullets and gold, she thought. That's what pretty girls are made of.

Following her musings, Joanna raced to the upper deck, intent on meeting Jack before he left the ship. They crossed paths at the gangplank; to secure his attention, Joanna tugged on one of his dreadlocks. "Remember. You're here to con people, not sleep with them."

"I resent your implication," Jack replied loftily, but his eyes sparkled.

Joanna grinned. "Good luck."

With a breezy "thank you, darling," Jack left, blowing a flippant kiss over his shoulder. Joanna watched his departure with a faint smile, fond of the strange swish in his walk.

Her contentment drained, leaving her face faded. I would love to trust you.

...

Joanna's duties were that of an ordinary seaman -- learning the ropes, the lingo, the knots -- but she also accomplished tasks a woman was more practiced at, such as cooking, sewing, and cleaning. She was lacking in holes to sew and men to cook for (most of the already-few crewmen were ashore to enjoy Tortuga's benefactions), so Joanna breezed around the ship with a damp rag, relieving surfaces of dust and stains of varying sorts. She cleared loose bottles and rubbish from the crew's quarters, kicking sea chests into their proper places. Strolling through the hold and cellar revealed some spoiled goods that Joanna set about getting rid of.

She was emptying a dustpan over the side of the ship, humming off-key, when she heard something so surprising she nearly dropped the pan.

"You hired me. I can't help if your standards are lax."

Scathing, deep, arrogant. Commodore James Norrington. Joanna's eyes scanned frenetically over the dock below -- if the pirate hunter was about, the Black Pearl needed to skedaddle -- but she couldn't locate the source of the voice. Was I mistaken? She wondered, but she heard Jack's inventive response: "You smell funny."

Joanna quickly set her broom and pan aside and squatted, peering covertly over the rail. Jack could exchange vitriol with Norrington all he liked, but Joanna's daily plans did not include being seen and seized by the British Navy.

"Jack!"

"Hm?"

"All I want is to find Will."

Elizabeth Swann? Joanna's jaw hit the deck in shock.

"Are you certain? Is that what you really want most?"

Joanna knew that voice, too. It was the same voice that had said, "But what will you do for me, dear William?"

As much as Joanna would have loved to zip down the gangplank and greet Elizabeth, sneer at Norrington, and glare at Jack -- in that order -- she resolved to do what a pirate would do: eavesdrop sneakily.

Elizabeth's reply to Jack's shrewd question was on the offended side. "Of course."

"Because I would think," Jack continued. With eyes narrowed in suspicion, Joanna saw him place a guiding hand to the small of Elizabeth's back. Elizabeth appeared rather boyish, dressed in men's clothes and looking much better in them than Joanna did. "You'd want to find a way to save Will most."

Joanna bit her lip. Was that possible?

"And you'd have a way of doing that?" Joanna could imagine the way Elizabeth raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Well, there is a chest."

"Oh, dear." That was Norrington. Joanna finally located him and realized why she had been unable to do so originally -- he was looking rather worse for wear, slick with mud and swaying with nausea. How the mighty have fallen, she thought maliciously.

"A chest of unknown size and origin," Jack continued, loud and in defiance of Norrington's scoffing.

Pintel and Ragetti breezed by, arms laden with cargo. "What contains the still-beatin' heart o' Davy Jones!" Pintel supplemented. Ragetti helpfully mimed a thumping heart with his hand, complete with sound effects.

They bustled on board the ship a moment later -- Joanna spared them a scorching glare. She did not like them or trust them and hoped Jack was counting them in his ninety-nine soul tally.

"And whoever possesses that chest possesses the leverage to command Jones to do whatever it is he or she wants." Joanna could hear the clever, golden grin in Jack's voice. "Including saving brave William from his grim fate."

"You don't actually believe him, do you?" Norrington interjected, nasty with disbelief.

There was a pause. "How do we find it?" Asked Elizabeth.

Joanna switched tactics, ducking beneath the gunwale so she could peer through the gaps in the railing. Her brow furrowed as she realized Jack's plans had changed -- he was shedding the ninety-nine soul deal in favor of locating the chest via Elizabeth.

She was surprised by a second notion -- that Jack had survived telling Elizabeth of Will's fate. He must have really turned on the charm, Joanna mused wryly.

"My compass," Jack replied. Joanna saw the way he playfully snapped it open and shut beneath Elizabeth's nose. "Is unique."

"Unique here having the meaning of broken." Norrington followed up on his quip by vomiting over the side of the dock.

After a tasteful pause, Jack concurred. "True enough. This compass does not point North."

It points to the thing you want most in this world. Joanna filled in the blanks and felt a requisite stab of hurt. Why hadn't Jack proposed using the compass to her, to Joanna?

"Jack." Elizabeth said his name on the edge of a captivated, disbelieving laugh. "Are you telling the truth?"

"Every word, luv. And what you want most in this world..." Jack placed the compass into Elizabeth's open palms. Gently, he closed her fingers around it. "...is to find the chest of Davy Jones, is it not?"

Elizabeth replied sharply, "To save Will."

"By finding the chest of Davy Jones." There was a slow, coaxing smile in Jack's voice.

A moment later, Captain Jack Sparrow had his heading (Gibbs was especially thrilled by this development). Joanna marveled at Jack's singular ability to manipulate and connive.

...

"Your hair!" Joanna exclaimed.

The very paragon of a gentleman, Elizabeth removed her hat and bowed. "What do you think?"

Elizabeth was a beautiful woman; Joanna knew this like she knew the sky was blue. The thought had not crossed her mind, however, that Elizabeth could be handsome. She was certainly that, smiling beneath the short hair flaring around her forehead and ears.

"You cut it," Joanna marveled. She touched her own curls, realizing, we match! Rosy-cheeked, she returned Elizabeth's grin. "You look lovely, Elizabeth."

"What happened to you?" Elizabeth asked, indicating the bandages wrapped around Joanna's head.

Joanna pointed at the right side of her head, smirking. "Lost my ear in a duel," she explained proudly, having decided the adventure was nothing short of epic. Elizabeth seemed to agree, eyes widening in thrilled awe.

Jack popped up over Elizabeth's shoulder, flapping his hands. "You're in the way," he announced. Indeed they were -- Joanna and Elizabeth had collided center deck and remained there, chattering while the crew dragged supplies on board. Jack shooed them in the direction of his cabin. "'Sides, I have something for you, Lizzie."

Elizabeth did not playfully say "It's Miss Swann", probably because she rather wished she was currently a Mrs. Turner. "What is it?" She inquired, following Jack's cue to the Great Cabin.

Joanna's ears -- ear -- perked up. "The wedding gift," she informed Elizabeth.

Elizabeth smiled brightly, but asked reasonably, "Should I be worried?"

"Y'know, Will said that exact thing," Jack commented, hands floating through the air. "Do I seem like a bloke who gives rotten presents, Lizzie? I am excellent at presenting. Downright gifted, even." Grinning at his pun, Jack tossed Joanna a glance over his shoulder. "Right, Anna?"

Joanna thought of the string of black pearls resting in her sea chest; she felt the coolness of the silver bracelet hugging her right wrist. "I've no complaints," she conceded, surrendering to a smile.

He looked at her fondly. A moment of warmth passed between them; Jack stepped into her side, brushing a hand over the small of her back before he returned to babbling in Elizabeth's direction. Joanna felt speechless, stalled by the tug-of-war of her emotions.

Jack seemed to enjoy dragging her heart in every direction -- charming her with genuinity and stabbing her in the back in the same breath. You're so lucky I like you, Joanna thought, eyes lingering over the man who had betrayed her and would do so again.

...

At midnight, Joanna was staring into the ceiling of her cabin, arguing with herself. Her fists clenched and unclenched at her sides. Finally, a decision won out -- she swung her legs out of her hammock, wiggling her toes against the cool floor.

Joanna stumbled above decks, lit by starlight and orange lanterns. She glanced with bleary eyes to the helm -- it was void of dark-eyed captains. She turned her attention to the Great Cabin.

Silently, Joanna slipped through the ornate doors. Her eyes were drawn to a single candle. It flickered innocuously from the table accompanying Jack's bed, casting fluid shadows over its occupant.

Jack's eyes were open, spartan without the embrace of dark kohl. "Evening." He waved.

Joanna slumped against the door as she closed it. "It's morning."

"Time doesn't exist." Jack had been propped up on his elbows, but now he flopped gracelessly onto his back.

Fiddling with the hem of her shirt, Joanna padded across the tipping floor to Jack's bed. "Um. May I stay here, tonight?"

Jack's eyebrows rose in surprise -- in the past, Joanna had made a point never to stay the night. She was a crew member, not a consort. Nevertheless, Jack scooted over, flipping the sheets up in welcome. "'Course, Anna."

Joanna sighed as her apprehension faded away. She dropped onto the mattress, shoving her feet between the sheets. "Thanks."

"Does Elizabeth snore?" Jack teased, watching attentively as Joanna settled herself beside him.

"She doesn't. That's the problem." Joanna rubbed her eyes vigorously. "It's too quiet. I've slept like shit for...I don't know. The past fifty years."

"Poor girl." Jack clicked his tongue. Definitively, he snuggled into Joanna's side and wrapped around her like an octopus. "Interesting, tryin' to kill me and come to cuddle in the same day."

"You bring out the interesting in me, Jack." Joanna wound her fingers into his stiff hair, unbound by the familiar red scarf. Joanna liked to see Jack this way -- undone, without pretenses, his bangs drifting into his eyes. "I've not made up my mind yet, though. Better watch your back."

"Can't see it," Jack muttered sleepily. "Eyes in the front. Hey, what've I done? Thought you had your honor."

"You certainly have none. Maybe I've soaked all yours up." Joanna's contentment with Jack's warm, familiar weight was spoiled by perfidy. "Elizabeth seems under the impression that fairies and trolls stole Will onto the Dutchman."

"She's got imagination." Jack lifted his head and offered a brief, apologetic smile. "What'd you tell her?"

"Nothing." Joanna smirked mirthlessly. "I'd like you to tell her the truth. Tomorrow. I think she'd take it better from the source."

Jack scowled and let out a short groan. He returned to nuzzling Joanna's neck, albeit mulishly. "Fine."

"I did tell her I dueled you, rather than some faceless opponent," Joanna admitted. "I told her it was for fun."

Jack laughed. Joanna felt his chest rise and fall with it. "She believe you?"

"I think so. She looked at me like I'm as crazy as you."

Unbothered by Joanna's taunt, Jack rose to scrutinize her. "How's the ear, by the way?" Joanna smiled with amusement as he tilted her chin this way and that, studying the bandages he had so carefully applied. "You seem fine."

"It does hurt." Joanna brushed her fingers over it to feel the ache. "I can't lay on it. But it's not so bad." She leveled her gaze with his and said seriously, "It's a dangerous life, Captain Sparrow."

Jack grinned, golden teeth catching the light. "That it is, Anna."

Joanna caught the hand cupping her chin; fondly, she noticed the pale skin lying beneath where Jack's four rings usually rested. His fingers flexed as Joanna dragged her knuckles over the lines in his palm, catching on the scar she, Will, and Jack shared -- thin and white, born from breaking a curse.

"Trying to read it?" After a pause, Jack said quietly, "There's no spot."

"I see that." Joanna looked at Jack curiously. "Can you read it? You can read palms?"

"I'm no expert," Jack said with blithe arrogance. "But. This one's the head line, this one's the life line --"

"What do they mean?" Joanna cut in curiously.

Jack eyed her sharply -- he despised being interrupted. Joanna smiled, as innocent as a nun. "The head line's about destiny. The life line's all about your life." He paused with grandeur. "I don't remember the others."

Joanna chuckled. Her smile melted away as she looked over Jack's palm, measuring the so-called "life line" -- it was small and thin. Joanna's nervous swallow was loud in the silence.

"'S not science," Jack murmured, reassuring both him and herself.

Clutching Jack's dirt-stained hand, meeting his hickory-dark eyes, Joanna was struck abruptly by the depth of her feelings for him -- the way they twisted and changed, never stagnant, so like the man that inspired them. Who would I be without you? Joanna wondered. Instinctively, she used her free hand to bring Jack's face to hers.

I've done nothing to change you, Joanna acknowledged as they kissed. You're just the same as you were a year ago, barging into my home and altering the very course of my life. Jack's body moved gently against hers; he was never rough, unless she asked. You even gave me a new name. Anna. Did you know I would stay with you, even then?

Jack left her lips with a sigh. "C'mere," he requested softly, shifting onto his back and dragging her with him. Joanna went willingly, descending over his hips, settling her hands over the hard plane of his chest.

The heat faded. They simply gazed at each other -- a mutual, silent assessment.

You're best this way, Joanna thought fiercely. Lungs breathing, heart beating. By my design.

Shattering the outré pause, she whispered a cruel question. "How do you want to die, Jack?"

His eyes narrowed imperceptibly. In sharp contrast to his barbed expression, Jack's hands floated sweetly over her waist. Flashing a razor-sharp smile, Jack answered. "As I lived."

Joanna raised an eyebrow, aiming for bravado -- instead, she found herself breathless. "Lying and cheating?"

Jack's smirk relaxed into something surprised and genuine. He said, "Yes."