Taking Fantasia : A Disney Fanfiction

Chapter 3: How in the Heck?

Chapter 3: How in the Heck?

"HOW IN THE HECK—RAWWWW!"

"Shut up! You blasted bird!"

"That's parrot to you Pops!"

Captain James Hook, gentleman cutthroat and first class pirate, ducked as the tomato-red parrot dove, aiming for his face.

"Parrots or flying rats," growled the captain, swiping his hook at the colorful tail feathers, "I detest birds! And anything that flies!"

"Well that's precious," smiled the parrot, digging his claws into Hook's shoulder, "Hell should agree with you."

"For other reasons, as well," replied the pirate, hook glinting in the moonlight, "But it would seem Hell holds a separate circle for both of us, Iago. And our kind."

"Yeah, yeah," Iago sneered, although his tone had depressed slightly, "Ditch the hammer because you're breaking my heart."

"I'd treasure nothing more," muttered Hook, striding across the wooden pier, scabbard clicking against his black boots. A chilled, salty wind slid under Hook's collar. Grimly, the pirate clutched at his trench as he navigated the damp dock. "But it seems you must be tolerated, for the present."

"Tolerated-shmolerated!" yapped Iago, careful to dust Hook's ear in spit, "I make you look like a respectable pirate. Don't get more authentic than talking parrots, Pops."

Hook stopped. "You," he said quietly, "Call me Captain. Or not speak at all."

Iago grinned. His reflection in Hook's sea-blue eyes grinned evilly back. "Gonna be a quiet hull then, huh? Ok, whatever. So, how in the heck are we gonna find this whoever we need to 'sterminate for the big P-L-A-N anyway, Captain? RAWW!"

Iago croaked through the pirate's strong fingers. Muffled profanity grew louder as Hook bared his teeth at the disgruntled parrot.

"Shh! You blasted bird! Not here!"

Hook scanned the dock. His eyes locked on a hunched-back sailor innocently unraveling a hawser. Hook squinted. The unwinding line fell predictably but the old sailor's hands were trembling.

Iago noticed. White folds narrowed over his black eyes. Shaking away Hook's fingers, the parrot opened the corner of his beak, "You want I should stick 'im, Pops?"

Hook considered.

The old dog was rasping his way though a sea-chantey ancient as the faded tricorne pulled over his eyes. The words were indiscernible but Hook knew the tune: he also knew the sailor's voice. Somewhere, he had heard that gravely voice before. Who could it be?

"Not...yet." Hook answered, eying the sailor as they passed. "But...perhaps...after..."

"What? After what?" Iago demanded, flapping his wings. The parrot squawked, surprised as a tavern door flew open at the mouth of a dock, spilling orange light into the darkness. Shielding his eyes, Iago was vaguely cognizant of boisterous cries and drunken toasts as the pirate captain spoke.

"After our parlay."

A saunter in his step, Hook made directly for the bar entrance. "We have a very important meeting with a very prominent authority tonight. Stay sharp, my little parrot...this authority has a notorious taste for pirates...and their pets."

Extending his arm, the pirate latched his hook through the brass door handle.

"Welcome," Hook grinned at scarlet parrot on his shoulder, "To the Benbow."

The sliver of orange light disappeared, with it Hook and Iago.

And true to the captain's suspicions, the old sailor looked up from his line and stopped singing.