BASIC PRINCIPLES

Author: cr8zee4rum
Rating: PG
Pairing: You/Jack
Categories: General

Disclaimer: I do not own POTC. The inspiration for the plot is from Hitch, which I also don’t own.

Summary: You believe that any man has a chance to find the woman of his dreams. While visiting an old friend in Tortuga, you catch wind of a man that “no woman can tie down because he’s tied to the sea.” Sticking with your theory, you decide to prove that this infamous Captain might have ties to someone other than the sea…

* * * * *

CHAPTER 1

Basic principles — No matter who, no matter where, no matter when, any man can sweep any woman off her feet. He just needs the right broom. You happen to have the right broom for just about any woman; usually it’s just a matter of finding it in the closet. And although men happen to be your forte, there have been a few instances where you have helped a woman find love.

Your friends call you Jynx, an odd name considering the success of your profession. But being born on Friday the thirteenth is still bad luck in most people’s books. Then again, since the only one of your friends who knows of your profession is Robin, the nickname doesn’t bother you too much.

Your job is strictly referral. Why? With a nickname like Jynx and a profession that involves messing with fate, you figure it’s best to keep it down.

But tonight is not about the job. Tonight is a night for you to enjoy yourself, and the company of your good friend Robin. You sit quietly in the back of the Faithful Bride waiting for Robin to arrive.

You check your watch and roll your eyes. Can Rob ever be on time?

While sipping on some rum, you watch the occupants of the bar. One man walks by your table, winking at you as he passes. Snapping your head in his direction, you do a double take. No you weren’t seeing wrong; he did look like a Christmas tree with all those beads in his hair. He has a rugged and somewhat unkempt look to him. The drunken swagger of his hips draws your eyes to his butt. “Interesting way to attract the ladies’ attention,” you instinctively think aloud, but immediately berate yourself. No, tonight is for enjoyment, not for my job.

Having caught your uncensored opinion, the man pivots to face you. “Attracting your attention, it would seem, darling,” he slurs.

Inwardly you groan, oh god, he’s a flirt. Yet you smile shyly at this man. Ah well, a little flirting never killed anyone. “So it would seem. And since you have my attention why don’t you sit down, Mister…”

“Captain,” he corrects. “Captain Jack Sparrow,” he tips his hat and takes the chair next to you. “And might I inquire as to the lovely lass’s name?”

“Jynx.”

Furrowing his brow in confusion, Jack wonders if he heard you correctly. “Jynx?” he asks; you nod.

“Born on Friday the thirteenth,” you smile. “But I don’t believe in bad luck, so no need to worry.”

Surprisingly he makes no move to leave or any indication that he may want to. (After all, a jinx is a rather nasty thing.) Instead he leans in and says in a low voice, “Just don’t go after the treasure of Isla de Muerta, savvy?” With that he rises from his chair. “It’s been a pleasure, luv, but I have business to attend to.”

“But of course, I wouldn’t expect anything less from a captain,” you sweetly say. He’s a rather odd man, interesting though.

As he leaves, you check your watch again. You roll your eyes, Robin! Talk about fashionably late!

The bell above the door jingles, signaling that another person has entered. You turn your attention back to the door, glad to see that Robin is scanning the bar, looking for you. About time! He spots you, smiles, and heads over to where you are.

He sits down, but not before ordering rum to drink. At this you raise an eyebrow because Robin rarely drank rum. “Rum? What happened to your water-down wine?”

“Not strong enough.”

“Ah,” you acknowledge with a sip of your rum. “Had a bad week have we now?”

Robin stares at you for a moment before answering, “You might say that.”

“She cheated,” you concede. Robin’s pale-green eyes widen, silently asking you how you knew. “I could hear it in your voice,” you explain.

Taking another sip of your drink, you wait for Robin to reply. When he doesn’t you continue, “I wouldn’t charge you, Rob, if you want my help.”

Robin pulls at his goatee, clearly thinking it over. He takes a swig of his drink before answering, “Jynx, I think I can handle finding my love by myself.”

You hold your hands up in mock surrender. “All right, but my offer still stands if you change your mind.”

Robin nods. “So how has business been, Jynx-y?”

“Not bad,” you reply. “I’ve had a fair few clients recently, so it keeps a roof over my head.”

“That’s good,” Robin says.

“Yeah,” you agree.

For a few moments you and he sit in silence, each sipping your drinks, just enjoying the others company. After all, ever since Robin moved to Tortuga, you haven’t seen him nearly as much as you’d like to.

Robin breaks the silence with another question. “Say, Jynx, if you’re the ‘love doctor’, why haven’t you got the love of your life? Don’t practice what you preach?”

Shrugging, you reply, “I’m too busy helping others fall in love to be in love myself.”

“So love is just a job?”

“For now,” you gulp down the rest of your drink and place it on the serving tray of a passing barmaid. “By the way, I saw the strangest man while I was waiting for you,” you deliberately change the subject. “I swear he looked like a Christmas tree!”

“A Christmas tree?” Robin raises an eyebrow.

“Yep, he had beads throughout his hair. And there was kohl around his eyes that really brought out their color, a definite plus in my opinion. He was a bit dirty, yet he wasn’t completely covered in dirt like some of the men on this island. He had a bit of a drunken swagger, which I admit is an interesting way to attract the ladies…” you spit out rather quickly before Robin cuts you off.

“Jynx! No analysis please!” he exclaims through laughter. “Sounds to me like you met Captain Jack Sparrow.”

“Yeah, I think he mentioned his name to be that. So who is he?”

“Just an infamous pirate Captain that no woman can woo because he’s tied to the sea. But they say he’s very good with the ladies. Nobody important.” Robin dismisses the thought with a flick of his wrist.

“Very manly, Rob,” you gibe. “No woman can woo him, eh?”

The mischievous gleam in your eyes makes Robin suspicious. “What are you thinking, Jynx?”

“Basic Principles, I just need to find the right broom,” you wink.

* * * * *

CHAPTER 2

Robin’s house is on the outskirts of the busy town. It’s a rather modest house, only two stories. But as Robin would always say, “Better to have a small house than get lost in a large one.” And you couldn’t agree more.

You stand behind Robin as he fiddles with his keys. It’s a telltale sign, albeit usually sent from women to men, but he better not be thinking that. Thankfully, he finds the right key and opens the door, gesturing for you to enter. You bend down to pick up your bag, but he snatches it before you can. Always the gentleman…never lets me carry my own bags. Shaking your head at him, you allow him to carry the bag as you and he enter into the living room. Out of instinct you glance around the living room, eyes calculating.

The walls are a light tan hue, while the carpet is a rusty maroon color. The sofa, love seat, and armchair have tan slipcovers, a slightly darker shade than the wall’s color. The three pieces of furniture encircle a coffee table, which has a glass top and wooden legs with a high-glossed finish. In the corner by the window is a grand piano. I forgot that he played piano, oops. Although the room isn’t very large, the piano doesn’t seem to clutter it. An open doorway is next to the piano, and the stairs are just to the right of that.

Arms crossed over his chest, he waits for you to finish your inspection. When your eyes fall upon him, he questions teasingly, “Does my humble estate pass?”

“Shut up, Rob; old habits die hard!” you hiss, playfully.

“Make yourself at home,” he says, handing you the bag, which you gratefully take. Walking towards the open doorway that leads to the kitchen, he calls over his shoulder, “Want anything?”

“No, thanks!”

The coffee table will make a very convenient workplace, you decide, rummaging through your bag for some blank parchment and your favorite ballpoint pen. You spread the parchment on the top of the table, place your pen atop one of the sheets, and then close the bag once again.

While sitting cross-legged on the floor with your back against the sofa, you scribble notes and ideas onto various sheets of parchment. Robin returns and sits in an armchair. He holds a tangerine in one hand and begins to peel it with the other. His pale-green eyes are focused on his task even when he speaks to you.

“Jynx, don’t you need a woman to already want Jack Sparrow to fall in love with her?”

Glancing up from your notes, you reply quietly, “If I play the cards right, then I can find someone who can tie ‘im down so he…”

“Won’t go around whoring?” Robin finishes your thought without looking up.

“Precisely,” you scribble another note onto the parchment.

“You gonna put ‘matchmaker’ on your calling card, now?” he asks before popping a tangerine slice into his mouth.

“C’mon, Rob, think about it! There’s bound to be a dozen women, at least, that want to be the one to tie Jack Sparrow down. All I need to do is find the right one. Like I said, I got to play my cards right.”

Popping another slice into his mouth, he says, “Good luck,” he swallows then asks, “Want some?”

“Sure, why not?”

He hands you a few slices then pops the rest into his mouth. After swallowing them, he says, “I’m gonna hit the sack, ‘kay?”

You nod and go back to scribbling notes. To an outsider they would make no sense, but, then, an outsider really shouldn’t be snooping through your stuff, right? Ship—Pearl, doesn’t stay on land. Woman—flexible, understanding, (good in bed?) You continue to pour your thoughts of Jack Sparrow and women that might intrigue him onto the paper. Mostly they are gut feelings, hearsay, and educated guesses. Still, they have come in handy before, why wouldn’t they work this time?

Robin walks out of the living room into the kitchen to throw away the tangerine rinds. As he enters again, he says, “Say, Jynx, you’re not gonna get paid; you do realize that, right?”

Furrowing your brow, you contemplate his point. Hadn’t thought of that. You run through your plan in your mind once more before finally coming to a decision. “My last client left a handsome tip.”

“Mmhmm,” he attempts to stifle a yawn. “So, I’m really gonna hit the sack now.”

You chuckle. “All right, Rob, my room’s on the left, right?” he nods. “I’m gonna stay up a little longer,” You think you hear a muffled, ‘whatever’ from him as he trudges up the stairs, but you can’t be sure.

While cradling your chin in your left hand, you continue to scribble notes with your right. The legibility of your handwriting rapidly decreases as your mind begins to wander.

“Say, Jynx, if you’re the ‘love doctor’, why haven’t you got the love of your life? Don’t practice what you preach?”

“For now.”

A pang of guilt pulls at your chest. Lying to Robin is not something you make a habit of, especially since he has been through thick and thin with you, cliché as it may seem. No, you weren’t too busy. It isn’t just ‘for now’, either; you had sworn yourself to a life of solitude a long time ago.

“One man shouldn’t make you give up on love, Jynx-y.” Gasping, you look over your shoulder at the stairs that lead to Robin’s room, almost expecting him to be standing at the top of them, reprimanding you on the subject once again. You shake your head at the notion; it was just a stray memory, nothing more.

“I’m not giving up on love. I am just ridding the world of men like him. And helping people fall in love while I’m at it,” you mutter to yourself.

“Don’t worry.” You stand frozen with your hand mere centimeters from the doorknob. “She’s away with work for the weekend.” Your breathing hitches. Pressing your ear against the door, you strain to hear him whisper, “Now, shall we have some fun, darling?”

“I’m sorry,” The words leave your mouth, surprising him. Finally finding your feet, you pivot and hurry out of the house, slamming the door behind you. On the doorknob the delicate gold chain that supports your engagement ring dangles, glimmering under the candlelight…

To clear your mind of the haunting memory, you shake your head vigorously.

“No, we aren’t thinking about Steve. He’s not the current assignment; Jack Sparrow is. And Jack is gonna be a tricky assignment. Get your head in the game!” you murmur. You snatch another sheet of blank parchment and jot something else onto it that might help you succeed with your latest client.

* * * *

Robin walks down the stairs while rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Blinking several times adjusts them to the light. Once they are accustomed to the brightness, he can make out your sleeping form.

“Looks like someone fell asleep working,” he comments, quietly. Your head is cradled in the crook of your left arm. The ballpoint pen rests in your right hand, but your grip has long since been lost. Stray hairs have fallen in front of your face, hiding it slightly. A smirk tugs at his lips. Always work overtime, eh, Jynx?

He creeps closer, aware that even the slightest noise may awaken you. When he is close enough, he glances at the parchment-covered coffee table and tries to make out your notes, failing miserably. He reaches out, his hand hovering above your head, hesitant to wake you. You stir in your sleep; Robin retracts his hand quickly.

I’ll let her wake up by herself. God knows what time she was up till last night. I can ask her when she wakes up…

* * * * *

CHAPTER 3

“I had a wonderful time tonight, thanks,” you say softly, as you fiddle with your keys, pretending to look for the right one to your house. Steve tilts your chin up with his forefinger, and he slips his other arm around your waist pulling you close. After looking into your eyes for a moment, just to make sure it was all right for him to proceed, he crashes his lips into yours.

With your back against the door, you slide down it until you are sitting on the floor. Touching your lips with shaky fingers, you question your trust of Steve. True, you had not known him very long, but after two weeks, he seemed to be a nice guy. Still a first kiss can tell you a lot about a man. But he backed off when he realized I didn’t like what he was doing, so he can’t be all bad right? And he’s really nice to me normally. Your gut feeling was to dump him the next time you see him, yet you push it aside, thinking that it is only an irrational thought.

You jolt awake. “I hate those stupid memories!” you slam the base of your palm into your forehead. “I wish they’d just go away!” After running your hands through your hair a few times, you stand up and walk into the kitchen. On the counter next to some cold toast is half a sheet of parchment. You read it over quickly while munching on the toast.

Jynx,
I’m out doing stuff. Be back later tonight. Make yourself at home. I need to talk to you when I come home, kinda important. –Rob

Furrowing your brow, you contemplate the last sentence. “Kinda important?” you mutter aloud. Well, whenever Robin has said that, it was always more than just ‘kinda’, but he won’t ever admit to that. “Ok, if you’re out, I’m out—no point in staying in an empty house all day.” You stuff the rest of your piece of toast into your mouth and then head into the bathroom to fix your hair, change your clothes, etc. before going out for the day.

* * * *

Jack Sparrow sits in the Faithful Bride, playing cards with some drunks. Lady Luck seems to be on his side; the other men groan and toss their cards in once again as Jack shows his. You watch from afar, rum in your hand but no notes; they would be too conspicuous. For a moment you contemplate joining the game but decide against it since poker isn’t your strongest game. Blackjack, definitely better at that. A smirk pulls at your lips at the thought. If they play that, then I’ll join. But for now… You glance around the bar, chewing on the inside of your cheek. It’s an old habit of yours for when you are thinking. Finally spotting a woman who is not ‘busy’, you walk up to her to talk.

At first she is suspicious of your intentions and gives you short, snappy answers, always asking, “Why d’ya want to know?” after each one.

Just before you are ready to give up your inquisition with this woman, she points to a blonde woman at the other end of the bar. “See her?” You nod. “She’s Sparrow’s favorite.” Knowing that you would ask why, she continues. “Dunno why, exactly, but my guess is ‘cause she’s… frisky.”

Raising both your eyebrows, you repeat her words, “Frisky?”

“Yes, frisky, Jesus, lady! You got any more questions, or can I get some drinks now?”

Holding up your hands with the palms facing outwards, you apologize. “No, go get something to drink. You need it.” At least the conversation wasn’t a complete failure. So he likes them ‘frisky’? And she is his favorite? Maybe… if I play the cards right.

You stroll up to the bar to ask the barmaid for a piece of parchment and a pen. She looks at you oddly for a moment before going to the back and grabbing you a piece. Quickly you scribble a note onto the paper, fold it in quarters, and then hand it back to the barmaid. You point to the blonde woman. “Make sure she gets it, a’ight?” The barmaid nods. “Thanks.”

* * * * *

Author’s Note: Sorry it’s not very good. I got stuck only a bagillion times. ^.^* Thanks for reading! ((hugs and Hershey kisses))

* * * * *

CHAPTER 4

“Emma,” the barmaid whispers to one of the call girls. When Emma reaches the bar, the maid hands her the folded piece of parchment. “A woman told me to give this to you.” Emma takes the parchment tentatively, eyeing it curiously.

She unfolds it, which makes a small card to flutter to the floor. Bending over, she picks it up, holding it between her first and middle fingers. The card is black with tiny red lettering that reads: “Basic principles—No matter who, no matter where, no matter when, anyone can find true love.” Emma turns the card over. Also in red, but in a bit larger of lettering, the back bottom right corner it reads, “Jynx”. After placing the card on the bar, she turns her attention to the parchment.

“What does it say, Em?”

“Hold on, Alicia. I haven’t read it yet,” Emma replies, while quickly scanning over the note. She purses her rouged lips, bewildered by what is written. Alicia, the barmaid, nudges Emma, eager to know what is in the note. “Hold on,” Emma says, annoyed with Alicia’s impatience.

I don’t understand. Is this ‘Jynx’ person trying to make a fool of me? Emma thinks, rereading the paper one more time before handing it over to Alicia, who snatches it from her hands.

“If you want your name to go down in history as something great, meet me at the Faithful Bride tomorrow at noon. I can make the other women envious that you have tied Jack down. Don’t worry about finding me—I’ll find you. Jynx,” Alicia reads aloud. “Is she talking about Sparrow?” she wonders aloud, laughing at the thought. “Sparrow is a ladies man, not a one-woman-man, this ‘Jynx’ woman is out of her mind!”

Emma tugs on one of her loose curls, thinking it over. “I’m going to go to humor her for a while. After all, it can’t hurt especially if it’s Jack…”

Alicia raises her eyebrows, somewhat surprised. Shrugging, she replies, “It’s your time, Emma; do what you want with it. I still think that this Jynx woman is trying to scam you,” Alicia mumbles the last part under her breath.

Emma folds the note back up, taking care to put the calling card within it. She tucks it into her bodice, and then winks at the barmaid. “Well, I still have to find work for tonight.” Alicia nods her approval and returns to her own work, allowing Emma to scope out a willing customer. Too bad both Jack and Samuel already have women for the night… she thinks, watching Scarlet, who is sitting on Jack’s lap as he plays poker with some friends.

* * * *

“Honey, I’m home! Did you miss me?” you jokingly singsong as you enter Robin’s house.

Playing along, Robin calls back from within the kitchen; “Good to know, dear! You’re just in time for dinner. How was work, Jynx-y?”

As you walk into the kitchen, you untie your hair, letting it cascade down your back. “Not bad. I might’ve found a match for Jack. I’m meeting her tomorrow at the Bride,” you explain. “This matchmaking stuff isn’t half bad, Rob.”

“But you can’t make any money off of matchmaking,” he points out. “Stick with your regular job, Jynx; it suits you. No!” he swats your hands as you try to test the food that he is preparing. “This is my treat since you always make me dinner when I’m staying at your house. Sit down, Jynx!”

“All right, all right, I’ll sit!” you laugh good-naturedly. As you sit down in one of the four chairs around the dinner table, you ask, “So what’s for dinner anyway?”

“You were going to try something that you didn’t know what you were eating?” Robin asks, incredulously.

“I like surprises.”

“Well if you like surprises so much, I guess you’ll just have to wait and see what I’m preparing, eh, Jynx?” he says, lifting the lid of one of the pots to check and stir its contents. “Lucky for you, it’s almost done.”

“That’s good to know,” you reply, chin cradled in your palm. For a moment you contemplate how to bring up the subject. “Hey Rob…” you pause as you try to quickly put together words. “You said that you needed to talk to me about something that was ‘kinda important’. Now’s as good a time as any, no?”

Robin glances over his shoulder, still stirring the contents of the pot. “Oh, it was nothing. I was half asleep when I wrote the note. I figured out what I needed to ask you about as the day went on. It kinda solved itself.”

“Who’s the girl?”

Robin sighs, “Must it always be about love with you Jynx-y?”

“When the tone of your voice gives it away, then yes, and when you’re a bad liar, definitely. My offer still stands. Who’s the girl? What can I do?” you explain rather quickly.

“Since you’re not charging me, I just want tips, okay, Jynx? Not your full service. Besides you don’t know the girl.”

Since when does it matter if I know both parties? You wonder, growing suspicious. “All right, can you at least describe her personality? I need a little bit of info to help you.”

“Once dinner is on the table, Jynx. I don’t want to burn anything, a’ight?” he replies with his back to you, blowing out the flame under one of the pots.

“Sounds fair enough to me.”

* * * *

“So this girl…” you prompt, while cutting up the chicken.

“Can’t we just enjoy the dinner?” Robin complains.

“Rob!” you roll your eyes. “Stop dodging the question! What’s she like? What’s got you interested? How…”

“Jynx! I get the picture that you want details,” After finishing the spoonful of rice in his mouth, he continues, “She witty and smart and beautiful. Unfortunately, she doesn’t believe in the concept of love, thinks that ‘love’ is a figment made for children’s stories. So how do I make her believe in love?”

Eyeing him curiously, you say, somewhat unsurely, “No woman wakes up thinking, ‘God, I hope I don’t get swept off my feet today’, so her not believing in love is probably just a cover-up ‘cause she’s scared of it. I suppose finding something that you both have in common and working from there would work. Some sweet gestures that would make her rethink her beliefs on love. Flowers with notes on her doorstep, homemade dinner since you’re a good cook, things of that nature. Any help?”

Robin pulls at his goatee, clearly thinking it over. “And if I’ve tried those things?”

You shrug, “Tell her flat out, or be spontaneous, or both. What approach you take is going to depend on how the woman responds to the previous ones.”

Smiling, Robin replies, “Being the love doctor suits you Jynx; it really does. Thanks for the tips. Now I think that we’d better finish our dinner before it gets too cold!”

“Oy, Rob, just lemme know how it all works out, please?”

“You’ll know, Jynx-y, you’ll know,” he replies while scooping some more rice onto his spoon.

* * * * *

Author’s Note: Sorry for the wait, I found my plotbunny hiding in my closet, which is a disaster area…heh… Anywho, thanks for reading!

TBC...

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