untamexble:

        Angelica is quick to jerk her wrist free of his grip, but at least she doesn’t make a move to slap him again. He infuriates her to no end, but she knows slapping him around isn’t going to win her any favours; and she could really use one right now. Well—- more like, she was going to enlist his help whether he wanted to or not.

        “I want. My. Ship,” she says evenly; there’s fire in her eyes that can only come from that Spanish blood running through her veins and years of being used to getting her way. She won’t leave him alone until he complies. Persistent and angry is a terrible combination. 

        She steps closer to him, but this time she only wags her finger in his face rather than prod him in the chest. “I know you know where it is and you’re going to help me get it back, Jack Sparrow, or so help me—-“

Good, he’s perfectly fine without receiving another unjustified slap (well, unjustified for this exact moment considering she noticed him first), and yes she would do well not doing something more to make him even less compliant than he already can be.

Jack stood his ground when Angelica closed the gap between them even more, though still keeping his eyes locked on hers; best keep a sharp eye on this one. A tilt of the head, and there was the charismatic, if not slightly arrogant or cocky overlyconfident grin. Ah, so she needed his help did she? Always knew she’d want him for something sooner or later.

“And why pray tell would I be doing that? It might just be that I have my own agenda while I made port.”

He really didn’t other than restocking rum supplies, but Angelica didn’t know that.

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