SIRS FINDER AND KEEPER
This started as part of a First Kiss meme. But then there was no kiss. Maybe someday there will be more to this.The blue box was particularly befuddling. It appeared to have no purpose, and it was locked. What sense is there in locking a perfectly ponderous blue box? Jack wondered, circling it with a perfect mix of suspicion and curiosity. It was made of wood—he reached up and dragged a dirty hand down the side of it, savoring the smooth feel of well-traveled wood. Reminded him of his own beloved Pearl, it did.
He frowned, stood back and put one long finger to his lips. Well-traveled, why did that adjective come to mind? After all, this was just a box. Boxes didn't travel. Transported, sure. But only on mule-pulled carts or ships headed for dull places like that buggering old Port Royal. (Or worse, out of the Caribbean entirely to go back to England. Why anyone would want to take such a fascinatingly queer box like this to soggy old England was completely beyond Jack's comprehension.)
No matter. This box was here now, here on this little island of miniscule import to the world at large, which was exactly why Jack had come in the first place. A few pirates and broad-minded entrepreneurs had made Isla de Rosa their home, but for the most part it was a smaller, less impressive cousin of Tortuga. With less rum. (Which probably lead to the general lack of a bustling tourist industry, when you got right down to it.)
With broad steps he worked his way around to what could only be called the front of the box. He studied the doors some more. One of them had a funny little flap that opened to reveal some manner of metal gadgetry that no respectable pirate would know anything about. The other door was the one with the keyhole, the one that whispered to Jack that, as interesting and brain-scratching as this entire contraption was from the outside, if he could just get inside, there'd be far more to discover. He narrowed his eyes and reached out gingerly, then quickly pulled at the little handle on the big door, grunting with the effort to try and open it.
Nothing. Locked solid.
Truly, whatever was encased in such a tempting and well-fortified box had to be quite valuable.
Jack's lips curled into a satisfied smile. The Fountain of Youth could wait. He was going to get into this box, and no one was going to stop him.
"There something I can do for you?"
Jack whirled around to face the voice behind him. A man stood there, looking completely out of place and completely at home all at once.
"I was just . . . pondering this perplexing box," Jack said, knowing that often the truth was far too ridiculous to be believed. "I was thinking I would commandeer it."
The man raised an eyebrow. "Were you now, then? Whyever for?"
Jack didn't rightly know. "I don't know. Seemed like a good idea. Want to help? I could use a proper first mate." He paused. "Unless you're a mutinous sort. Had far too much of that lately, could do with a bit of loyalty, just for a change."
The man nodded. "Loyalty. I like that. But I'm not sure I'd be a very good first mate. Not really one to take orders."
"And you'd expect me to take orders from you?" Jack straightened up, then straightened his hat. "See here, sir, I am Captain Jack Sparrow, and I am always in charge of my ship!"
"Your ship? Surely you wouldn't need to—how did you put it?—commandeer your own ship?"
"Ah. Well. That is a sticky point, I grant you that. Speaking with complete honesty and in full faith, this is not, strictly, my ship. Yet. Once I've commandeered this beauty it will, then, be my ship. Thus, I will have proper Captaining rights."
"As per the guidelines of Sirs Finder and Keeper?
"If you like. Now, will you be joining me as first mate, or will you be proving to be a nuisance that I'll have to get rid of? I really, really rather hope it's the former, as my sword is dull and I'm not really feeling up to a proper fight."
"Well," the man said, stuffing his hands into his pockets and shuffling closer to Jack, "you see there is a small problem. I mean, you obviously have found this box and feel you've got the right to do with it as you please, but really what I'm wondering is what you planned to do when the actual owner showed up to claim it."
Jack sighed and looked up to the blue sky. "You're going to make this difficult, aren't you?"
The man shrugged. "I suppose you're welcome to it. Only . . . nah! No, you're fine, go on then." He turned and started to walk away. Jack raised an eyebrow. It was never a good sign when an adversary gave up so quickly.
"Well? Go on, say it then."
The man stopped. He turned back to face Jack, and gestured towards the box. "I only noticed that, well," he started walking forward, and Jack stepped back in kind, "you were pulling on the door. Which is a fine instinct and I can't blame you for it at all. But I think you'll find a lot more success in commandeering it if you . . . pushed it? Maybe?"
Jack eyed the man. There was a feeling about him, a sense that he was very far from home, a traveler who traveled aimlessly just for the joy of it. Jack sensed that he might like this man immensely.
"Push it, aye?" The man only shrugged, but there was a slight gleam to his eye. With great deliberation, Jack reached towards the door and gave it a good hard push.
It didn't move.
"Don't suppose you have any other brilliant ideas?" Jack asked, a hint of impatience in his voice.
"Well," the man said, reaching into his long coat, "I suppose . . . this might help?" He held out a key on a short chain.
"Touché," Jack muttered. "I suppose you think this makes you Captain?"
"If you like." The stranger smiled ever so slightly as he unlocked the door and pushed it open. "Most just call me the Doctor." Then he stepped inside and shut the door. Jack stood there, surprised and bemused (and more than a little disappointed), until the door opened again and the Doctor's head popped out.
"Well, Captain Jack Sparrow? You coming or not?"
Jack's lips curved into a devilish grin, and after only a moment's pause he followed eagerly.
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