so, short chappy, but wanted to post it anyways, and it just seemed like a good place to stop!! thanks for reading!! Hope everyone is finding the humor in the story so far!! let me know what you think...bambers;)

Dean stood high aloft on the crow's nest holding onto the mast for dear life as somewhere below Sam swabbed the decks. He'd lost track of his little brother several times amidst all the activity going on far below his perch, and worried that amongst all the cutthroat pirates Sam might be in real danger.

Still holding firmly to the mast, Dean ventured to glance over the edge of the crow's nest, and noticed Sam expertly climbing the rigging toward the perch Dean stood upon. Sam's head dropped back on his shoulders and he smirked at Dean. From just the gloating look on his brother's face, Dean could tell that Sam was loving the fact that his older brother was terrified to be up in the crow's nest, and Dean was bound and determined not to show his fear.

"Keepin' that old weather eye on the horizon, Dean." Sam chuckled as he climbed onto the narrow platform to stand beside Dean. Barely containing his laughter, Sam peered down over the edge of the gray weathered surface of the crow's nest, and then looked to Dean. "Man, feels just like a bein' on a plane when there's really rough turbulence, doesn't it, dude?"

The Dutchman rocked and swayed as the ship cut through the waves, and Dean knew by now he must look positively green with sea-sickness. "So not funny, dude." Dean scowled as his grip tightened around the mast, stomach churning as the ship lurched forward as it crested another wave.

"Oh, it so is," Sam laughed all the harder, seeing Dean's white-knuckled grip on the wooden mast. "See, the whole time I was swabbing the head," he grimaced in distaste of the particularly nasty job, and then his lopsided grin reappeared, "the only way I kept my good humor was thinkin' of you up here . . . way, way up here, holding on for dear life, an' I got to say, you didn't disappoint."

"So, you figure a way to get us off this ship yet," Dean asked, purposely changing the subject.

"Dude, I'm still tryin' to figure out if we're dead or not . . . an' if we're dead, I'm thinkin' we're pretty much stuck here."

"Can't be dead, Sammy."

"How can you be so sure, dude? Think those pirates might have stabbed us to death while we were back on the beach."

"Cause if I died, I wouldn't have ended up in this little slice of heaven . . . naw . . . if I died, this ship would be loaded with half-naked women instead of men, an' I would be no where near this freakin' crow's nest ever."

"So," Sam cast him a quizzical look, "what you're sayin' is that despite the fact that we were both stabbed while on the beach, an' we're aboard the Dutchman right now wearing pirate clothing, we're not dead cause there are no half-naked women running around?"

"Yeah, that pretty much sums it up."

Sam gave a curt nod, and then scrubbed his hand across his face as he looked out over the ship toward the horizon. "Okay, so say we follow your downstairs brain logic for a moment, an' we're not dead, then to get back home, we would probably have to salt and burn the entire ship along with the crew."

"Sounds like a plan, Sammy." Dean grinned as he made to clap Sam on the back, but the boat heaved forward at that moment, and he hastily grasped hold of the mast once more.

"Only problem there is, we're aboard the Dutchman, and if she goes down an' we are dead, we go down with her." Sam hesitated for a moment as he glanced out over the water again, and then continued, "However, if we go by your brilliant logic that we're still alive, the ship goes up in flames an' we go up along with her as there is no dry land around for as far as I can see."

"Why do ya think I'm keepin' my weather eye on the horizon, Sammy," Dean quirked a brow, "lookin' for land so we can jump ship, savvy?"

"Savvy?"

"Yeah, it means do you understand." Dean chuckled as Sam shook his head in irritation.

"Yeah, saw Pirates of the Caribbean, Dean." Hearing the Captain shouting his name from below, Sam peered over the edge of the crow's nest again, and then looked to Dean once more. "An' as I wasn't the one who's eyes lit all up at the thought of kissing the gunner's daughter, I really think we should leave all interpretations of pirate lingo to me."

"Honest mistake, dude. I mean seriously, how many people would've known that the gunner's daughter was the cannon an' not an actual girl?"

Sam mulled over what Dean had said for less than a fraction of a second before smirking. "Umm . . . I'm thinkin' pretty much everyone aboard ship, including me, knew he wasn't referring to a real girl, dude."

"Sammyboy," the Captain hollered again, "ye'll be tastin' the cat 'o nine tails if I 'ave ta be callin' ye again, ye scurvy dog."

Turning to narrow his hazel eyes on Dean, Sam scowled. "Sammyboy?"

"Ummm . . . might've let it slip that you liked to be called that."

"What else did you happen to let slip, Dean?" Sam crossed his arms as he continued to glare at Dean.

With a devilish grin, Dean responded, "Might've also said that ever since you were little you wanted to be a cabin boy for a ship's Captain . . . an' maybe that you really knew your way around a galley."

"You're so dead, Dean." A wicked gleam lit up Sam's eyes as he started to laugh heartily. "Oh, yeah, payback is definitely gonna be a bitch."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Dean slowly made his way down the rigging, careful not to glance at the deck far below. He couldn't believe how his little brother had taken to climbing up and down the ropes as if he were some sort of freakish monkey instead of a man, and was determined not to let his brother show him up.

The moment he set a shaky foot on deck, Dean glanced around, and spotted Sam standing beside the Captain. He noticed how Sam pointed to one of the torn sails, and then with a sweeping gesture motioned to several more large rips in the dirty cream-colored sails. Sam steady gaze then fell to Dean and his little brother's smile widened as the Captain nodded.

With one last glance in his brother's direction, Dean looked up at the sails and recalled Sam's parting words before he'd climbed down from the crow's nest. "Naw, he so wouldn't do that to me." Hearing Sam laugh, Dean cringed, knowing exactly what he'd told the Captain. "Oh, yeah, he so freakin' would." Turning quickly on his heel, Dean tried to make a hasty exit from the deck, but the Captain's booming voice halted him in his tracks.

"Avast, PeeWee . . . ther' be work ta be done, ye bilge-sucking rat. Or ye'll be tastin' the Bos'un's lash."

Dean as well as all the other deckhands stopped what they were doing to briefly look around for who the Captain was hollering at. All eyes fell to Dean as Sam chuckled and gestured toward him.

As all the pirates broke into a hearty round of riotous laughter, Dean turned to glare at his brother. Sam tried to feign a look of complete innocence, failed miserably and started chuckling along with the rest of the crew. The gloating smile never left Sam's face as he licked one finger, raised it in the air and then crooked it, gesturing that he was now one up on Dean.

"Who rule's?" Sam mouthed the words to Dean, and then pointed to himself, "oh, that's right, I do."

"Oh, you're so dead, Sammy."