A Caribbean Vacation
Oneiriad

Disclaimer: Neither Supernatural nor Pirates of the Caribbean belong to me.
A/N: written for order_of_chaos, who asked for Gabriel, time travel and the Black Pearl.

It was a beautiful Caribbean day.

It had been, anyway. It had started so well. He had the Pearl back, a solid crew and a map to treasure. In short, everything a pirate could want.

Except then he didn't have the map - damn that bloody Sparrow - and as if that wasn't bad enough, these two had just - appeared.

"Stay back!" the young man with the musket shouts for about the seventh time, and Barbossa does, because he's not stupid. True, the tall man has already fired it - but he's fired it twice and is aiming it like a man fully expecting it to fire a third time. Otherwise he'd have rushed the man by now - if not for the fact that the two shots had only punched a small hole in a sail and taken out a bit of the railing he'd probably have done so anyway.

At least Sparrow isn't here to complain about his precious ship getting shot.

"Honestly, Samsquatch, will you relax - I mean, you're the one who wanted a Caribbean vacation in the first place..."

The short man behind the other is leaning against the railing as if he doesn't have a care in the world, as if he wasn't aboard a ship full of fierce pirates. In fact, he's sipping something from a fancy glass like some dandyish gentleman.

"I meant in the 21st century" the tall man grinds out.

"Oh, well why didn't you just say so? Let's go party like it's 2099."

There's a snap of someone's fingers and the odd pair are gone, leaving behind only an indignant "Gabriel!" hanging in the air and a glass balancing precariously on the railing.

Barbossa doesn't think before moving forward and grabbing the glass before it can fall down and shatter against the deck. There's something orange and fruit-smelling in it, and when he tastes it he almost pokes his eye out with the inexplicable little umbrella-thing, but it turns out to be alcohol and that's good enough for him. Right now, he needs that. And the glass will probably fetch a fine sum, as fine as it is.

Right, back to business. No time to waste on mysteriously appearing and vanishing men. They've got themselves a little bird to catch.