CHAPTER 11 - Calm Before the Storm

Governor Weatherby Swann sighed as he carefully put away the documents he’d been studying for the last five minutes, too distracted to concentrate on them fully. Leaning back in his chair, he glanced around his study, deeply immersed in his thoughts. A lot had happened in the matter of hours, and not all of it was pleasant. Actually, very little of it was pleasant. The business with this Captain Delgado concerned the Governor more than he cared to admit, and he prayed to God that Commodore Norrington would stop the woman until she caused any more destruction and harm than she already had.

Then, there was of course the matter of Captain Jack Sparrow and the seemingly preposterous offer the Commodore had made him. Governor Swann could hardly believe that Norrington would have even considered such thing; to grant a full pardon to the pirate they had only a year ago seen standing on the gallows, ready to be hanged until the intervention of William Turner, his future son-in-law. Even if he had initially been a bit wary of Elizabeth’s decision to choose the young blacksmith for her husband over the Commodore, he had come to see that the young pair truly loved each other, and that Turner would do all in his powers to keep his daughter safe.

And as for Jack Sparrow… the Governor was not completely certain what to make of him. But both Elizabeth and Will as well as his niece thought he was a good man, shouldn’t that be enough? His initial reaction to Norrington’s proposal of granting Sparrow a full pardon if he should aid in the capture of Captain Delgado was an absolute, irrevocable ‘no’. But after a while, he’d come to see Norrington’s point of view; Sparrow, while having executed numerous crimes against the Crown, had not stooped as low as to actually murder people in cold blood.

But Captain Delgado was the exact opposite. She quite obviously did not think twice before killing another human being. To her, people were exploitable, merely pawns to be used to her advantage in the twisted little game of hers that she fully enjoyed playing. Governor Swann was utterly disgusted by the woman. Had she no shame at all?

So, after a moment, Weatherby Swann had agreed to grant Sparrow his pardon if Delgado was successfully detained and executed. This game would be seen until its end, no matter how bitter it might be.

Not all of this was bad, however. The Governor was delighted that his niece had decided to stay in Port Royal with Elizabeth until this mess was over. He was aware that she was reluctant to do so, and that Sparrow had in fact specifically ordered her to stay. This saddened the Governor a bit, but maybe he’d finally get to know the young woman a bit better now. She was all that remained of his beloved sister Melissa Swann; the resemblance between her and her child was remarkable. In fact, when the Governor had laid eyes on young Miss Byrne the first time today, he had been briefly shocked at the obvious likeness. Seeing her again made him momentarily think it was his sister standing in the middle of the parlor instead of her child.

Lifting his gaze, the Governor stared at the skillfully made painting that hung on the wall of his study. A small, sad smile tugged at his lips as he gazed at the woman on the picture; his sister, Melissa.

She had the same smile on her lips that he’d been so used to seeing; gentle and understanding, but just a bit mischievous. Her hands were resting on her lap as she sat straight on the settee in her beautiful, deep green dress with her long hair piled on top of her head and arranged elaborately. But still, small ringlets stubbornly escaped the proper coiffure. The painting was unbelievably realistic; the artist had even managed to capture the unique sparkle in her eyes that she usually got when she was thinking up another trick or some act of mischievousness. Governor Swann felt amused as he remembered the day the painting was done; Melissa had barely managed to sit still long enough and grated the artist’s nerves almost to their end.

Melissa had always loved the sea; every single day she would either go down the docks or just stay on the large balcony of her room that over looked the cove, just staring at the endless, azure blue masses spreading out in the horizon. In a lot of ways, the Governor reflected, Melissa had been like the ocean she’d so greatly loved. Even when she was cool and composed, there would have always been a small stir beneath the otherwise calm exterior. She was just as untamed as the waters. Perhaps, the Governor mused, that is why she fell in love with a pirate. Maybe they had shared something she could never had found with anyone else in this town; a love for the sea.

Weatherby knew Melissa’s thoughts about their family’s high status, and that she’d detested the brand of being known as the Governor’s daughter. He’d been the only one she’d ever told these things, and he’d felt honored that she would tell her such private thoughts. When Weatherby had heard that Melissa had run away with a pirate Captain, he had at first been terrified. But after finding the letter she had left him, he however understood her reasons. Their parents had not understood, not ever. They didn’t understand that she hadn’t been forced or tricked into going, but she had truly wanted to go. It was all she ever wanted, to be free and be close to the sea she loved so much. In hindsight, Weatherby had only then realized how lonely Melissa had been all those years. Melissa had never felt truly at ease as a noble woman; the balls and social gatherings bored and suffocated her, and she could find nobody to talk to who shared her ardor for the sea. Until Peter Byrne came along.

With a sigh, the Governor got up from his chair. He knew Melissa had been happy with the pirate. She would have also been so proud of her daughter. If only she would have been allowed to witness her growing up to the young woman she was today. With a small sigh, Governor Swann glanced at the painting for the one last time before leaving the study to search for his daughter. The familiar, sparkling eyes gazed expressively back at him.

“Don’t worry,” he said quietly. “She’s strong. She will be alright.”

As he left the study and closed the door behind him, Weatherby Swann could have sworn he heard his sister’s voice in his head, the slight teasing lilt in it he would never, for as long as he lived, forget.

Of course she will... She’s my daughter after all, isn’t she?

* * * * *

Knocking on the door of Elizabeth’s room, the Governor called out her name. “Elizabeth? Are you there?”

There was no response. This was odd, since usually Elizabeth spent her time reading in her room at this hour. Perhaps she was out in the garden with her cousin? No, the servants had not mentioned seeing either one of them a moment ago.

With another knock, he opened the door and stepped in… only to be greeted by an empty room with an open window, and a string of sheets thrown down from it.

Shutting his eyes in disbelief, the Governor shook his head. “Elizabeth, not again…”

Glancing around the room helplessly, he finally spotted a note on Elizabeth’s desk. Stepping over to pick it up, he read it.

Father,

With love,
Elizabeth

With a sigh, the Governor shook his head again. “Oh, what have you two done…?” he murmured as he folded the note up.

He should have expected something like this. As he thought of the afternoon, the two young women had seemed a bit too accepting of the situation. Elizabeth was known to be stubborn, and obviously so was the matter with her cousin as well. Nevertheless, it was too late to stop them now. Governor Swann thanked God Commodore Norrington would be with them, and Will would do everything to keep his bride safe. He only hoped they indeed would return soon.

“That was such a foolish idea,” the said to himself as he started making his way out of the room. “That girl will drive me into early grave someday, I’m sure…”

* * * * *

“Are you sure this is really a shortcut?” you ask in doubting tone as you push twigs and branches off your way as you trudge behind Elizabeth though the lush, jungle-like foliage.

“Positive!” Elizabeth throws confidently over her shoulder, pushing another branch off her way. “We’ll be on one of the alleys leading to the main street soon enough, you’ll see.”

“Well,” you mutter, stepping over a small shrub, “Let’s hope so. We don’t have too much time to waste.”

“We’ll make it, don’t worry,” Elizabeth says optimistically.

You shrug slightly to yourself, figuring you'd just have to trust Elizabeth's judgment. You have to admit that she was right; she the one who's been living here for quite some time already, so she probably does know where she's going. Otherwise, you won't be a very happy pirate. But you suppose Elizabeth is equally unwilling to be left behind, given that her soon-to-be husband is going as well. Suddenly, you're being reminded of the Governor's remark a year ago when you, Jack and Elizabeth had been picked up from the island, "…And not go gallivanting after pirates!" How ironic; isn't that pretty much what you were doing with Elizabeth right now? Oh well.

A leafy branch that slaps you squarely on your face rudely interrupts your musings, and you let out an annoyed sound, shoving the offending branch off. Elizabeth glances at you briefly behind her shoulder with an apologetic smile. "Sorry!"

Rolling your eyes, you decide to keep a sharper eye from now on. You two are on a mission, after all, no time to start slacking off. But you can't help but to briefly question your act; Jack specifically ordered you as your Captain to stay, and you had just deliberately disobeyed that command. That was not something to be taken lightly, and you knew it. Disrespecting your Captain and his wishes was just about one of the most serious breaches you could possibly do.

Yeah, Jack would be mightily furious with you when he found out, as he of course would eventually. Though he was a fair Captain, you knew that Jack could be extremely intimidating when truly enraged. You'd seen him get really, truly mad a few times before, and it wasn't exactly pretty. So really, your rational part questioned, was this exactly the wisest decision to be made?

Of course it is! Your other part, one that's still smarting over Jack's easy dismissal, argues. This is not the time to start second-guessing! What's done is done, and you're not going to back down now. You'd gone this far already. You and Elizabeth had to hide somewhere until you were well on your way to Tortuga, so that Jack couldn't turn the ship around and take you back. Then, you would just have to bear the brunt of Jack's anger and accept whatever punishment he saw fit to give you; that's what you were certainly facing for your disobedience. You figured Elizabeth would be mostly safe from Jack's wrath, but as a crewmember, you wouldn't have it so easy. You just hoped the punishment wouldn't be flogging or anything like that…

"Look!" Elizabeth's exited voice suddenly breaks you out of your thoughts. "I told you we'd be there in no time, ye of little faith," she goes on with a hint of self-satisfaction as you bend your head to the side, gazing past Elizabeth's head.

Indeed, the outskirts of the town were somewhat visible behind the thick foliage and tall palm trees.

"Alright, I stand corrected," you reply dryly as you keep following Elizabeth thought the woods, the alley she spoke of earlier coming closer. You could see the muddy road behind the lush, green shrubs outlining the said alley's side.

After a moment, you both step out of the woods and onto the shady street. Glancing around, you saw a few establishments that looked actually quite shabby and were probably less than respectable. The few peasants wandering about the alleys looked dirty and their clothes were torn and worn out. An old man with grey beard sat in front of one house, sitting on a wooden crate and spooning some lumpy substance that looked very unappealing from the bowl clutched tightly in his hand into his mouth. You'd never seen this side of Port Royal before.

"Come on," Elizabeth says quietly, having spent a moment looking around as well. "We must go before they leave."

You look at her with a nod. "Aye, let's go."

"This road leads towards the docks," Elizabeth says, nodding her head briefly forward. With that, the both of you started walking quickly along the street towards the inner city, stepping over the largest mud puddles on the ground. You walk hurriedly, almost jogging, but you realize you don't have enough time to get to the docks before it's too late.

"We'll never make it in time," you tell Elizabeth, while looking around. "We're going to need a little help…"

Elizabeth had obviously reached the same conclusion, and she was glancing around helplessly. "Oh, isn't this just the rotten luck!" she cries out in frustration as you keep walking along the street.

You're about to reply, when you suddenly hear a whinny coming from the long building ahead that's most likely a stable. "I think Lady Luck just decided to be on our side, after all," you grin, taking off towards the stable with Elizabeth at your heels.

Reaching the stable, you carefully peek in. There's a row of compartments on the left side of the building, about six or so, each containing a horse. Across the horses, you see saddles and bridles situated on the other side of the building. Seeing nobody in, you carefully slip inside and make your way over the closest paddock, peeking in.

"Hello, there," you greet in quiet, friendly voice. A kind-looking mare with auburn coat stares curiously back at you with her big, black eyes, one long ear turning slightly as she seemingly ponders who the heck are you.

Elizabeth shuffles next to you, taking a quick look at the animal. "We're stealing a horse?" she asks with disapproving edge.

You look at her with a slight frown. "Of course not!" Returning your eyes on the horse, you smile as she shakes her massive head a bit, the light brown, shaggy mane waving along.

"We're only borrowing her for a moment. She'll know her way back home from the docks," you say convincingly as you quickly trek over to the other side of the stable, grabbing a pair of bridles from the wall. "Don't you, girl?" you ask the horse as you open the latch of the door, carefully stepping in the paddock with the mare. The horse makes a small rumbling sound and sniffs the palm of your hand as you show it to her, convincing the animal you mean no harm. Lifting your hand, you lightly stroke the mare's neck. Elizabeth follows your actions, but doesn't say anything.

"Alright, girl," you say in soothing tone, lifting the bridle a little, "I'll just put this on you… now you won't be giving us any trouble, will you? We could really use your help right now, so no temper tantrums, okay?" you talk to the horse quietly as you lift the bridle over her head, and slip the mouthpiece in the mare's mouth.

The horse bites down the metallic bit for a moment, fitting it in her mouth as you slip the rest of the bridle over her head and set it behind her ears, proceeding to buckle the strap under her chin. After a moment, you have the bridle properly on the horse and you rub the horse's wide forehead in thanks. "Good girl," you say approvingly and grab the reins, smacking your lips a bit and start leading the horse out of the compartment. The mare follows calmly, her hooves clinking softly against the floor that's slightly littered with hay.

"Okay," you start, looking at Elizabeth, "Can you get up there on your own?"

Elizabeth looks surprised. "But… there's no saddle."

You roll your eyes. "You got to be kidding me. We have to go before someone comes and catches us!" you hiss, and then give her a narrowed look. "By the way, do you even know how to ride?"

Elizabeth looks slightly affronted. "Of course I do! I'm a very good rider, I'll have you know!" she huffs, straightening her back defiantly and striding next to the horse's side. Grabbing a fistful or the mare's mane, Elizabeth hoists herself on the horses back with your help. All the time, the brown horse stands perfectly still, being the very picture of calmness. Actually, as you gaze at the animal, she even looks a bit bored.

A noise from the other end of the stable startles you, and you take a quick look at the large doors that lead outside. Someone was coming.

"Hurry up!" Elizabeth whispers urgently as she clutches the reins.

"Easy for you to say!" you hiss back, frantically gazing around the stable. Spotting a wooden stool next to the door you're close to, you dash over and grab the thing. Hastily skipping back next to the horse, you set the stool down and step on it, throwing your right leg over the wide back of the horse and holding on to Elizabeth's shoulder, hoist yourself up.

"Go!" you shout to Elizabeth as a scraggly looking man appears from the door on the back, shouting in alarm as he sees the two of you on the horse.

"HEY! Whatcha think you're doing?!"

Elizabeth tenses her calves and kicks her heels on the horse's flanks lightly, urging the mare on. The lackadaisical animal suddenly springs to life, and nearly jumps up in the air as she sprints into a gallop, dashing out of the stable, making a mad dash down the road. You yelp and hang onto Elizabeth as the horse runs forward, the wind blowing through your hair. Elizabeth encourages the horse to go even faster, the hooves of the animal beating a steady tattoo over the ground as she increases her pace. The townspeople yell and scream in fright as they flee the street, frantically running from the seemingly mad horse and the two women astride it.

"Try not to kill anyone, okay?!" you yell to Elizabeth as she pulls the reins and makes the mare dodge around another peasant who wasn't fast enough to get out of the way.

"Don't worry!" she shouts back. "I know what I'm- oh my!"

"Oh my?!" you repeat frantically. "What do you mean, oh my?!"

"Hold on tight!" Elizabeth replies sternly, and you tighten your hold on her waist and pray you'll get out of this alive. You can't stifle the second yelp as the horse's whole body suddenly tenses underneath you, and she leaps up in the air, powerful hind legs practically thrusting the animal off the ground. Glancing down, you catch a glimpse of a low fruit stand gliding beneath the animal as it almost flies through the air, finally landing evenly on her feet as she immediately picks up the pace again, continuing to gallop wildly forward.

You glance behind your shoulder, and see the terrified vendor on his knees on the ground behind the stand, staring after you. You swallow nervously, wondering what would have happened if the horse would have refused to jump at the last second.

"Please don't do that again!" you tell Elizabeth with slight waver in your voice. Elizabeth just laughs in return, urging the horse onward. To your relief, the cerulean blue sea is creeping closer each second, and the docks weren't far off anymore. Good Gods and Goddesses above, you were never, ever going to ride on the same horse with Elizabeth again!

After another few minutes, Elizabeth eases up on the mare, making her slow down into unhurried trudging. You've now arrived close to the docks, and Elizabeth stops the horse completely. With a quiet, relieved sigh, you slide down the horse. Elizabeth smiles and pats the horse affectionately on her neck, murmuring her thanks to the animal. The mare neighs softly, and Elizabeth looks down at you with a beaming smile.

"That was the most fun I've had in months!" she exclaims happily.

You look at her like she's suddenly grown another head. "Fun?! Damn it, Elizabeth, you're daft! Then again, that's probably the main requirement in this bunch," you mutter dryly.

Elizabeth just laughs and slides down the horse. "Alright, girl, you can go home now. And thank you!" she tells the horse, slapping the animal lightly on her flank. The mare tosses her mane on the other side of her neck, and starts to trot off in the direction where you came from with a parting neigh.

Smiling slightly after the animal, you return your concentration on the matter at hand. "Let's go," you tell Elizabeth. "We still have to figure out how to actually get onboard the Pearl without getting noticed. That won't be easy…"

Elizabeth nods her agreement as she starts walking briskly beside you towards the docks. "Maybe Anamaria would help us?"

"Yeah," you respond, thinking that Anamaria would be the first one to tell you you're insane to go against Jack's orders. But being a loyal friend, you know she would help you out regardless of Jack's expected anger. Or, most likely because of it. Actually, Anamaria would probably laugh her head off after she'd finished letting you know how you apparently had a death wish. She seemed to absolutely enjoy everything that got Jack upset or otherwise vexed, which didn't happen very often. All the more reason for you to rely on her help. "We can count on her. It's the rest of the crew I'm a bit hesitant about."

Not that they would rat you out to Jack just out of spite, no. But when they found out their Captain had ordered you to stay and if they knew that you were onboard, they would let Jack know instantly. They really had no choice, otherwise they'd be considered as accomplices, so to say, and none of them wanted to risk having Jack's wrath brought down upon them.

The rest of the short walk is spent in silence, both you and Elizabeth mulling over your own thoughts. Finally you reach the shore, and you stop to observe the numerous long docks spreading out over the waters. Glancing further out the sea, you see the Black Pearl anchored a while away, floating steadily over the waters with the dark sails tightly furled. The Pearl was really sight to behold, the majestic black splendour of the ship contrasted over the cerulean blue waves that licked her sides. Seeing her like this made you again appreciate Jack's love and pride towards his beloved vessel; never had a ship been more aptly named than her. The massive HMS Dauntless was similarly anchored even further away on the other side of the cove, floating next to the shore with a huge, rocky mountain towering from the land, casting a shadow over the vessel. So far it looked like you've arrived right on time.

"Now, if only we'd know if Jack and Will are already on the Pearl and our job would be so much easier…" you muse out loud.

Elizabeth touches your arm briefly to draw your attention off the Pearl, and you follow her pointed finger. You spot a man in long, frilly overcoat standing on one of the docks closest to you, wearing a grey wig, funny looking hat and small, round eyeglasses. He's frowning in displeased manner as he gazes down on the thick book he was holding in his hand. A small, black boy tries to peek behind his back and see the book.

"That's the harbourmaster. I also happen to know that he's very nosy and knows just about everything that goes on around the docks," Elizabeth says quietly, with a lilt of amusement in her tone.

You raise your eyebrow in impish manner. "So, he'd probably know if a certain eccentric pirate Captain with unique taste in fashion and strong liking for kohl would happen to appear here and head back to his ship?"

Elizabeth grins. "My thoughts exactly."

"Perfect," you smirk. "You wait here, I'll go ask him. If he's as nosy as you say, then he'd probably recognize you. Maybe you should find a hat or something," you tell Elizabeth, eyeing her dark blonde hair critically.

"I suppose you're right," she responds, self-consciously touching her hair. "I'll try to figure out something, you go ahead."

With a nod, you leave and quickly make your way towards the slightly stocky harbourmaster. Trudging over to him, you watch him place the book on a wooden stand situated on the dock, but not lifting his eyes from it.

"Excuse me?" you start politely, and the black little boy next to the man raises his brows curiously at you.

The harbourmaster startles a bit, snapping his head to the side to look at you. Peering over his round eyeglasses, he looks expectant. "Yes, miss? May I help you?"

You plaster a pleasant smile on your face, using your sweetest tone. "Yes actually, maybe you could. See, I'm wondering about my old friend, and I was told you know all there is to know about the traffic to and from Port Royal, is that correct?"

The harbourmaster smiles a bit at your praise, nodding slightly. "Well, I do know a lot about the ships and their owners. Very little goes past me, Miss."

"Simply wonderful!" you gush, giving him a smile. "So you would probably remember is my friend would've been here recently?"

"Why, I would have to know his-"

You cut him off, knowing he wants Jack's name. But the problem is, you don't know if Jack has given one to the harbourmaster, and even if he had, would he use his real one. "He's a bit taller than you, long dark coat, tri-corn leather hat, long hair with all kinds of beads and trinkets in it, dark eyes and lots of kohl? He also tends to act quite… peculiarly."

The harbourmaster purses his lips ever so slightly in thought, before smiling in recognition. "Why yes, I do remember him! Mister Smith, wasn't it?"

Smith? You think incredulously. Very creative. "Exactly! Mister Smith, yes…"

The man nods. "Yes, quite apt description of him, if I may say Miss. He was indeed a bit outlandish."

"Oh, you don't know the half of it," you say sardonically. "Anyway, I was actually wondering if he had already departed today? He would need a rowboat to get to his vessel…"

"No, he has not," the harbourmaster shakes his head. "I would have remembered if he had. I have a very good memory, you see."

You smile. "I'm sure you do. Well, that's all I needed to know. Oh, and if you see him again today, please keep this conversation between you and I, alright? I'm planning on surprising him," you wink at the older man conspiratorially. Oh, Jack would be surprised, alright! Too bad it wouldn't be a very pleasant surprise...

"Of course, Miss," the smiles pleasantly, and you bid goodbye to him, turn around and walk away.

Only then you recall that you'd actually seen the harbourmaster once before; when you arrived to Port Royal over a year ago, with the help of the friendly old Captain that told you more about your mother Melissa on the way from Tortuga to Port Royal. When he'd steered the ruddy old boat past the main dock, you'd seen both the harbourmaster and Jack for the first time, Jack being busy explaining something to the older man. Though, you didn't really see much of Jack but his back and some hair. But that swaggering gait had caught your eye as he started trudging down the dock as if he had no cares in the world. You still remember how you had grinned at the sight, thinking what an interesting acquaintance he would doubtlessly be. Well, that thought had turned out to be the understatement of the century!

Your thoughts shift from Jack to the old Captain of the small vessel, and you wonder where the man was now, and whether he was even alive anymore. He did tell you to look him up if you ever needed help, but the chances of actually finding him are pretty much slim to nil. You finally reach Elizabeth, and smile victoriously. "They haven't boarded the Pearl yet."

"Good," Elizabeth agrees with a smile, but that fades soon. "Now, we still need a boat."

"True," you admit slowly, casting a scrutinizing glance across the shore. You remembered the neat trick of Jacks when you were about to board the Dauntless after Will released you from the brig, so maybe there would be more boats lying on the shore. It was worth a try, in any case. "Come one, let's check something out," you tell Elizabeth and start walking hurriedly towards the particular place.

As you pass one particular dock that is crowded by small vessels being loaded with crates and some animals, you abruptly stop dead in your tracks as you spot someone. Elizabeth almost crashes into you. Were your eyes deceiving you? Could it be…?

"What's the matter?" Elizabeth asks anxiously, following your gaze.

You grin widely. Damn it, your luck could not get any better than this! It's the old Captain you met a year ago, standing on the dock and following as some men loaded goods into a small vessel. He hadn't changed a bit, well, aside that his grey beard was a bit longer. "I think I have a solution to our problem," you tell puzzled Elizabeth, and give her a brief summary of your meeting with the old man as you start walking towards him.

"Ahoy, there," you greet the man with a smile. "Do you still remember me, mate?"

The old Captain turns his head towards you, frowning slightly. Then his face lights up with a big smile, and he lets out a bellowing laugh. "Well, I'll be damned! The daughter of old Bloodshot Pete, herself! Aye, it has been while and I'm an old man already, lass, but I have not forgotten you," he smiles. "Got one of the best bottles of rum with those shillings you gave me."

"I'm glad," you grin, and take a quick look at the vessel that's apparently his. "You have a new boat? You're not hauling pigs for that other fellow anymore?"

"Nay!" he exclaims in a mixture of disgust and amusement. "I got tired of that complaining dimwit! I'm still making trade runs, though. I'll be taking these goods here to Port Marie. Say, I can take you and your friend there if you need a lift? I did promise to help you, didn't I?" he smiles pleasantly, absently stroking his beard.

Port Marie was on the North coast of Jamaica, you knew. "Actually, we do need a lift, but not that far. See that ship anchored there?" you point to the Black Pearl.

"The Black Pearl?" the man asks with wide eyes. "What businesses have you lasses got with her?"

You smile, letting the man know you belong to the crew of Captain Sparrow's. The old man's brows climb up. "Really? Well lass, you've managed to get yourself on a fine ship, indeed," he says, and then shifts his scrutinizing gaze on Elizabeth. "Say, you wouldn't happen to be the Governor's daughter, would you?"

Elizabeth's eyes widen a bit, and she glances at you uncertainly.

"Yep," you reply for her, smiling. "She's my cousin."

"That's what I thought. You two don't look too much alike, but then again, you take much after your mother Melissa," he muses with narrowed eyes. "So, you'll be needing a lift, then?"

"Aye, to the Pearl," you respond. "The problem is, it's a bit delicate matter, and we'd need to get there as soon as possible and as discreetly as possible…"

The old man chuckles, his eyes sparking with mischief. "Young people…" he mutters in amusement. "Of course, I'll help you. My little boat is actually all set to go, as it seems. Perhaps you'll tell me a bit about your apparent operation on the way, aye?"

* * * * *

You look at the Pearl as she seemingly came closer from your place next to the Captain as he expertly brings the small vessel closer to the Pearl's side. You'd told him quickly about your adventure with Jack and Will to rescue Elizabeth, and how you'd ended up as a crewmember aboard the Pearl. You also let him know the gist of yours and Elizabeth's little undertaking, and he'd laughed good-naturedly.

Elizabeth was standing next to you, but now she had a brown leather hat on her head with wide brim. The old man had given it to her, explaining that she'd better be wearing something to hide her face so that she wouldn't be recognized. After thanking the man profusely, Elizabeth had accepted the hat and pressed it on her head. You had to admit, it looked to be made for her.

Carefully, the man steers the small vessel next to the Pearl's side, next to the wooden planks nailed on her side that were used to climb onboard. "Here you go lasses," he said quietly. "You be careful, now. And I hope to see you again sometimes."

"All the good luck to you. And thank you very much for the help," you smile as you reach out and grab the pieces of timber, hoisting yourself to stand on one, and climb up a few step to make rooms for Elizabeth. She follows your example, and the old man starts steering his boat away, waving after you.

"Nice man," Elizabeth whispers up to you.

"Yeah," you reply. "C'mon, we can't keep hanging here for long." Carefully, you start climbing up on the narrow poles, finally reaching the cannons. Carefully, you peek over the edge, looking over the deck. You see nobody. Frowning, you stay still for a moment, wishing that Anamaria is not taking a nap or something. Suddenly, you hear voices; it's Gibbs and Anamaria. After a moment, you get the visual as well; they come up to the deck from below, the stairs leading down only some feet away to your right. As Gibbs turns his back on you, you raise you head and wave a bit with your hand, trying to catch Anamaria's attention.

She finally makes eye contact with you, and you frantically point towards Gibbs and make slashing motions over your throat with your free hand before she says anything, signalling not to say anything to Gibbs. She seems puzzled, but nods regardless ever so slightly. Anamaria regards Gibbs again, listening to what he has to say.

After a moment, Anamaria interrupts him, "Gibbs, did you know that Kursair and Matelot are saying that you're a terrible card player?"

You squeeze your eyes shut. Great Ana, that was very smooth.

"What?!" Gibbs' incredulous voice asks.

"Aye, they're playin' at their quarters, I thought I heard 'em say something like that…" Anamaria trails off.

"Those bloody gobs! I'll show 'em who's the best card player aboard this ship!" Gibbs grouses, and you peek slightly over the edge again to see Gibbs stomping too and disappearing below.

Anamaria dashes over immediately. "What the hell are ye doing?!"

"I'll explain you everything later Ana, but now, please help us!"

"Eh?" she asks, looking completely confused, and peeks beneath you and sees Elizabeth. Raising a brow at her new attire, Anamaria shakes her head. "I think this is not good…"

"Ana!" you hiss. "We need to get somewhere we can hide until we're a good way towards Tortuga! Quickly, before Jack gets back!"

"What has Jack got to do with this?! Tortuga?" Anamaria repeats, looking more puzzled by the second. Noticing your impatient glare, she blows air between her clenched teeth in aggravated manner.

"Look," you start before Anamaria gets to say anything else. "You most likely get a laugh at Jack's expense if you help us…"

Anamaria's dark eyes abruptly light up mischievously. "Well, why didn't ye say so in the first place? That man needs to be taken down a knot or two e'ery once in a while."

"You're awfully mean to him, you know," you say wryly. "Okay, we need a place to hide. The rest of the crew can't see us or they'll tell Jack."

"Right," Anamaria nods. "Our cabin. Wait here, I'll make sure the coast is clear," she says, and disappears.

You glance at Elizabeth below you, smiling reassuringly. "Just a moment, yet."

"The sooner the better. My palms are getting sore," she responds dryly.

Anamaria comes back, motioning with her hand. "Quick! Everyone's playing cards. Only Crimp's keeping a watch in the bow, and he ain't going to notice!"

With Anamaria's help, you hurriedly climb over the railing, and help Elizabeth do the same. Anamaria takes the lead, quickly hurrying to the stairs and descending them, you and Elizabeth closely behind her. Luckily your cabin is on the first floor with the spare cabin that Will and Elizabeth had been occupying, where as the crew quarters were yet another floor down. Throwing the door open, Anamaria ushers you both in and shuts the door behind her.

The cabin is quite small, your hammock hanging on the left and Anamaria's on the right side of the cabin, taking most of the room. There's also a drawer next to the door, containing your clothes and sparse personal items. There was a small, very small window in the middle of the hammocks. It was more like a hole really, and didn't give too much light. That's why Anamaria digs up some thick candles from the drawer and sets them on the wide clay platter on top the drawer, lighting the up with two small bits of flint. A skill you still hadn't quite mastered, and you were slightly envious of Anamaria's talent.

"Okay," Anamaria says as she sits down on her hammock, her legs dangling. "Which one of you is goin' to let me in on whatever the hell that's goin' on here?"

You sigh, suddenly feeling tired as you sit on the floor, straightening your legs and leaning your back on the drawer while Elizabeth occupies your hammock. "It's your turn to do the talking, Lizzie," you say with a small smirk, and Elizabeth proceeds to tell Anamaria everything that happened, starting from the boat trip to the shore and ending with your meeting the old Captain who gave you the lift.

Anamaria listens intently, nodding her head every once in the while. She frowns distastefully as Elizabeth explains Jack's orders, and shoots a look at you. After Elizabeth is done, Anamaria keeps quiet for a moment.

"Well, friend…" she starts, looking a you. "I think going against Jack's specific orders is not only incredibly stupid…" you roll your eyes at this. You knew that already.

"…but also incredibly amusing. I can't wait to see the look on Jack's face! Ha!" she crows in delight.

"Yeah, me neither, " you reply, tone heavy with sarcasm.

Anamaria shrugs. "Well, it's really your own fault. Why did you leave then in the first place?"

You sigh, leaning the back of your head against the hard wood of the drawer. "Because I couldn't stand the idea of being left behind like that. He just dumped me like I was some sort of dispensable thing that he can just shove aside when it's fitting for him!" you say, getting angry all over again. "You know, I thought we were friends! Friends don't just abandon each other like that; they back each other up no matter what. Right?"

Anamaria nods. "Right… look, I rarely bother explaining Jack's doings since often they don't need explainin' in all their madness, but don't you know by now that Jack thinks you as his best friend? You heard him, he just wanted to keep you safe."

You snort. "Yeah, well he could've been a bit more elaborate. It felt like he didn't think enough of me to take me with him. Like I couldn't take care of myself or that I'd be a bother," you trail off. You know he didn't mean it like that, you're sure of that, but you can't help but to feel a bit unwanted after this thing.

"Well," you start again. "After he finds out that I've disobeyed him, I'm sure he'll change his mind about being friends with me," you say with a smirk, trying to make light of the situation even though your chest constricts at the thought.

Anamaria smirks smugly. "I really don't think so. Sure, he'll be more furious than ever, but I'm sure it blows over after a while. He couldn't possible expect to you stick around Port Royal, could he?"

Elizabeth looks apprehensive. "How furious…?"

You smirk. "Probably more furious than the time you burned the rum."

"Oh my," Elizabeth says.

"Don't worry Elizabeth," Anamaria tells her with a small smile. "You're relatively safe, it's your cousin here that he has a bone to pick with," her expression turns smug, and you know she's going to say something you're not probably going to appreciate. "But I wouldn't expect Jack to do much to her, because the Captain's smitten with her… Sitting in the tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g, first comes the marriage--"

"Anamaria! Don't you dare start that again!" you growl and glare at the mulatto woman who started to cite a silly kiddies song. Elizabeth is laughing so hard that she falls on her back on the hammock.

"Pshah, you're still so stubborn… can't see the obvious…" Anamaria mutters under her breath.

You settle to just glaring at her instead of speaking up your mind. Anamaria shakes her head, throwing her hands up in the air as Elizabeth smiles in amusement.

"Fine, keep being stubborn, it's none of my worry…" Anamaria mutters, getting up from the hammock. "I'm going up now, Jack and Will are probably here any minute now, if they already haven't. I'll knock four times when I come back, alright?"

You nod, getting up from the floor. "Thanks, Ana."

"No problem," she grins impishly before opening the door and slipping out, closing it behind her. You make your way to Anamaria's hammock and sit down on it.

"I guess now we'll just have to wait, then," Elizabeth speaks up, and you nod absent-mindedly, thinking about Jack's reaction once again.

"Well, I'm going to take a nap if you don't mind," Elizabeth goes on, getting comfortable.

"Go ahead," you respond distractedly, lying down yourself as well.

One thing you didn't mention either to Elizabeth or Anamaria was that you were afraid. You were afraid to be left behind again, just like you'd been left behind by your father on that damned day four years ago. Bloodshot too had promised you that he'd be back soon, and he never did return. You were wary of staying behind, because you were afraid Jack wouldn't come back, either. If he was serious of going against Delgado, then you'd be right there with him. You didn't want to hear the news of anyone's destruction from someone else ever again.

Trying to ease your troubled mind, you close you eyes and relax, willing yourself to take advantage of the idleness of the moment and get some sleep. Calm before the inevitable storm, you thought before succumbing to the sleep.

* * * * *

You're jolted awake as the Pearl rocks over a wave, and you blink your eyes rapidly to rid the lingering sleepiness. The gentle but steady rocking of the ship tells you you're on your way towards Tortuga already. Glancing at Elizabeth, you notice that she's still fast asleep. You wonder how long you've been asleep, and look at the candles. They've shortened about half an inch, so you figure you've been sailing for at least good three or four hours. Perfect.

Dropping your legs over the hammock, you let them dangle as you sit up and stretch your arms. You're feeling thirsty, and you wonder if you should risk a trip to the galley. It's on the same floor as your cabin, but some distance away down towards the stern. But most of the crew should be up on the deck, so in theory you should be fine. Standing up, you take one last look at still sleeping Elizabeth and walk quietly to the door, carefully cracking it open a bit and peeking out. You can see nobody around the long corridors, and it's promisingly quiet. Making up your mind, you open the door fully and step out, closing it soundlessly behind you. Quietly, you start slinking in the direction of the galley, keeping a sharp eye and close ear.

You stop momentarily as you reach a corner, peeking around. Again seeing nobody, you proceed and tiptoe in the galley, finding it equally empty. You can't believe how brilliant luck you've had today. Traipsing over to the cupboards, you open one a get out a mug, and start hunting for some water. You find some of rum, but no water. Damn it! They must've drank all and forgotten to get more from the hold.

"WHAT?! Elizabeth!!"

You gasp and jump, startled by the abrupt shout that shattered the quietness and seemed to echo though the entire damn ship! And unfortunately, you know that voice. It belongs to Will Turner.

"Damn it!" you mutter sourly, knowing that your cover is blown now that Will has found Elizabeth. Why the hell was Will looking in yours and Anamaria's cabin, anyway? With a suffering sigh, you set the mug back in the cupboard and leave the galley, trudging back towards your cabin to clear things up. Obviously your time to face Jack's wrath came sooner than you anticipated, thanks to bloody Will Turner.

As you round the corner, you see Will standing in the entrance of your cabin, holding onto the door with one hand, incredulous look on his face as he stares at Elizabeth, who's now fully awake and standing in front of Will, wringing her hands slightly. As you come closer, Will's gaze snaps from Elizabeth to you, and he looks even more disbelieving.

"W-what on earth are you two doing here?!" He finally manages to get out as you stop next to them, giving Will a smile. "You were both supposed to stay in Port Royal! Are you insane?"

"Well, you see Will, that's the part that we didn't really like too much…" you say with slight wave of your hands, while Will starts to get over his surprise and turn irritated and angry.

"Will, dear, we can explain…" Elizabeth starts, but is interrupted by a new voice. One that you are all too familiar with…

"I for one would very much like to hear that."

You swallow and take a deep breath before turning around, only to come face to face with none other than Captain Jack Sparrow himself. Oh crap, you think as you take in his face that's taut with anger, narrowed gaze and stormy, black eyes. He looks absolutely livid. He's more furious than you've ever seen before.

"I think you and I need to have a little conversation, missy," he grounds out slowly in a freezing tone between his clenched teeth, obviously holding on to the last remaining shreds of his patience.

Oh God, you think. I am officially dead.

* * * * *

CHAPTER 12 - Hot and Cold

You wince slightly at Jack's tight, almost painful grip of your right wrist as you're being dragged behind him, but repress your cringe quickly and give seemingly care-free smiles at the bewildered crewmembers that gape at you in puzzlement as Jack hauls you across the deck towards his quarters while you struggle to keep up with his rushed pace. You wonder, with surprising amusement despite the situation, if he'd keep on going even if you'd stumble and fall flat on your stomach. You decide, however, not to push your luck and try it out.

Funny, having Jack forcefully drag you into his quarters seems like something your secret little fantasies were made of, but somehow you get the feeling this encounter is going to be less than pleasant. Jack's fury hasn't diminished by the least since his discovery of your presence aboard the Pearl only some odd minutes ago; the angry set of his shoulders, very tight grip of your wrist and the quick, stomping strides are enough to tell you that he's all but amused by your latest stunt. When Jack found you out, you'd felt compelled to say something instead of just meeting his furious gaze.

"Surprise…?" you tried, smiling weakly. Feeble try, since Jack just kept staring down at you with darkened eyes, and you were starting to feel increasingly more unnerved than you already were.

With a growl that was a mix between anger and frustration, he'd snatched a hold of your wrist and started to drag you along, leaving Will and Elizabeth to their own advices. Not that you were worried about them. Will probably wouldn't stay angry with Liz for too long. And it was really your hide on the line, here, so you were more concerned about the number one at the moment.

You see Anamaria standing behind the helm, steering the Pearl, as you and Jack get closer to his quarters situated under the helm. Her eyes widen slightly in alarm as she catches your eyes, worried expression crossing her face. You smile and wave with your free hand reassuringly, trying to signal her that you're all right and would be just fine. Yeah, at least so you hoped.

Gibbs is standing close to the starboard side stairs leading to the helm, looking just as confused at your sudden appearance like the rest of the crew, obviously thinking that you'd stayed behind in Port Royal like ordered.

"Eh, Cap'n…" he speaks up as Jack and you get closer, but he's quickly interrupted by Jack.

"Not now, Gibbs!" he barks, voice rough and low from the fury boiling beneath the surface, waiting to be released. And you know who's the one bearing the brunt soon. Oh, joy.

"Right," Gibbs says, more to himself than to Jack, and gives you a sympathetic "good luck" expression as you pass him. Everyone is looking at you like a lamb being lead to slaughter, and this makes the earlier amusement you felt over Jack's overflowing rage disappear in mere seconds.

Your nervousness comes back as Jack reaches the double doors leading into the Captain's quarters and shoves them open with his free hand, storming inside the spacious cabin while keeping a firm grip of your wrist. Stomping over to the round table in the middle, he suddenly pulls you forward so forcefully that you nearly stumble. You make a small, protesting noise from your throat, narrowing your eyes in irritation.

Releasing your wrist from the vice-like grip, Jack points his finger sharply towards the chair closest to you, his stormy eyes boring into yours. "Sit. Down!" he grounds out between clenched teeth. "Now!" he snaps forcefully as you don't obey immediately.

Gritting your teeth together, you do as he says and sit down, lifting your chin up with an air of wounded dignity around you. This act is however wasted on Jack, since as soon as you started to sit down, he turned on his heels and stalked back to the entrance of his quarters.

"Get back to work, you poxy dogs!" he yells roughly at Gibbs and several other men that had gathered around the entrance, watching curiously the obvious battle of wills about to ensue between you and Jack. The men immediately scatter and skulk away to obey their Captain's order, and Jack slams the doors shut violently, leaving the two of you alone. You're willing to bet that Gibbs and the others will soon return to listen in on the argument.

Jack marches back towards you, and you brace yourself for the oncoming verbal onslaught. Leaning back in the chair, you cross your legs and prop your forearms over the armrests casually. Outwardly you look calm and collected, while inside you're feeling a tad nervous. Your right wrist has started to throb slightly from Jack's tight hold, but you pay no heed to the fact. You're determined not to let Jack know just how uncomfortable you really are; your stubborn pride doesn't allow you to.

Jack stops in front of your chair, towering over your seated form as he stares down at you accusingly with narrowed eyes. Craning your neck to look up at him, you calmly meet his gaze, keeping quiet but refusing to be intimidated. You'd let Jack make the first move and let him get things out of his system before even attempting to explain your actions to him.

After glaring at you for a short moment, Jack squeezes his eyes shut and blows air through his clenched teeth, making an annoyed hissing sound before opening his eyes and tightening his hands into fists, proceeding to pace back and forth restlessly in front of you, muttering angrily under his breath. You bite the inside of your cheek, stifling your snicker; with all the pacing and growling Jack reminds you greatly of a caged tiger. You also notice how incredibly striking he looks when he's mad. Whoa, you think to yourself. I'm about to get reprimanded and punished and who knows what unpleasant and all I can think about is how sexy Jack looks when angry?

You sneak another glance at Jack, who sneers and utters an explicit curse under his breath while keeping up the pacing. Oh, yeah... You desperately try to curb the appreciative grin that's threatening to pull the corners of your lips upwards at the unbelievably appealing vision prowling in front of you. That would really be such a wrong move to make right now. As if reading your thoughts, Jack abruptly stops his pacing and whirls to face you, taking yet another step closer and looking down at you, his dark eyes wide and burning with disbelieving fury.

"What the HELL were you thinking, woman?!" he roars, unleashing his anger. He is clenching his fists so tightly that they tremble from the exertion at his sides, knuckles turning white. "Or, did you remember think at all in the first place?" he asks derisively with unkind, sarcastic smile.

Your amusement totally forgotten, you narrow your eyes at his scathing comment, opening your mouth to make a stinging retort. But before you can even make a sound, Jack glares at you fiercely and points his ring-adorned forefinger at you sharply, a clear sign for you to shut up. Glowering, you blow air from your nostrils and again bite your teeth in attempt to keep from snapping at him and making things worse than they already are.

"Has your sense completely abandoned your head?!" Jack demands harshly, his breathing slightly erratic. "I had thought you were the one person I could trust to do as I ask, but no!" he goes on, the volume rising with each word. "Not only do you go against my specific orders as your Captain, but in the process you endanger Elizabeth's life too as well as your own! Isn't that just bloody wonderful?!" he says sardonically, eyes narrowing again.

You listen quietly, drawing in a breath and evading Jack's piercing gaze, looking down at your hands that have dropped from the armrests and are resting on your lap. Maybe he's somewhat correct in that; would Elizabeth had left if you hadn't first suggested it?

"Now I don't know how you did things with Bloodshot, but on my ship, you do as I say, no exceptions," Jack says with a bit more calmness, his tone going cold. "If there's one thing I can't stand, it is betrayal, luv."

Despite addressing you with his usual endearment for the fairer sex, the kind word is now devoid of all warmth you're used to, and it makes you snap your head up sharply and look at him. He's staring down at you impassively, hands crossed over his chest. You can see that he's still angry, but as you look at his expressive brown eyes, the most blatant thing you decipher in their depths is disappointment.

Your throat suddenly feels tight and you swallow hard, feeling remorseful. Only now do you realize just how badly you've hurt him. Inadvertently, of course, but you've hurt him nonetheless. Jack had trusted you, and how had you repaid his trust? You broke your word to him and sneaked behind his back. You promised to stay and yet you didn't, instead choosing to stow away on his very own ship. To Jack, it constituted as betrayal. Feeling absolutely awful, you lower your gaze again, murmuring softly, "I'm sorry."

You never wanted to hurt Jack's feelings, but that's exactly what's happened anyway.

Jack laughs a little, but the sound is hollow. Your throat constricts again. "Oh, are you really?" he states more than asks, his tone emotionless. "Well then," he states, anger creeping back into his voice. You startle slightly as Jack suddenly bends his upper body forward and slams his palms forcefully on the armrests of your chair, face close to yours. "I suppose you don't mind explaining me then what in the flamin' hell were you thinking when you decided not to give a damn about my order."

It's not a request, it's a demand; his tone is quiet but serious, with lingering edge of anger. You absent-mindedly pay attention to how clearly Jack speaks when he's angered. You look straight into Jack's fierce, chocolate brown eyes only inches away from yours, again reading the disappointment from them.

"I left because friends don't abandon each other, no matter what the situation," you say quietly, but emphatically.

Jack's eyes narrow slightly as he thinks this over, staring into your eyes as if looking for any trace saying you might not be telling the truth. "I gave you the precise order to stay in Port Royal, and you ignored it."

Now it's your turn to narrow your eyes, your own ire being sparked. "No, you abandoned me there! You may be disappointed in me because I disobeyed your order, and I'm truly sorry about that, but if you hadn't just cast me off like I was worth nothing, none of this wouldn't have happened, now would it?!"

Jack pushes himself off of the chair, taking a step back and frowning in confusion. "What are you talking about, woman?! I didn't abandon you!" he argues, waving his hands in quick, haphazard circles.

"Oh, please!" you retort mockingly. "You know, you're not the only one entitled to be angry. Let's see," you pause, holding up your right hand, "Will whacked you unconscious with an oar," you raise your forefinger, "Gibbs, Anamaria and the crew thought they'd rather have the Pearl than you, and hey, let's not forget Commodore Norrington who came this close to hanging you!" you finish with three raised fingers, and then let your hand drop. "When I've stood by you during all this time without so much as having slapped you, and yet you'd still choose anyone of them over me. How do you think that makes me feel, Captain?" you say the title with slight sarcasm, getting angry yourself.

Jack grunts in frustration, running a hand down his face. "You really don't understand, do you?"

"Actually, I think I understand perfectly," you begin nonchalantly. "You obviously think I'm some sort of nuisance that's better left behind–"

"Quiet!" Jack barks, interrupting you vehemently with a pointed finger. You fall silent, but raise a sardonic brow at him. Jack huffs in irritation and clenches his jaw in attempts to calm his flaring temper.

"If I thought you were a nuisance, do you really think I would've put up with you this long?" he asks with forced patience, looking at you intensely. "You have never met Gabriela Delgado and you don't know the things that woman is capable of," he goes on in low voice. "She's a lunatic, and that word isn't even nearly enough to illustrate the sum total of insanity that's inhabiting her disturbed mind. Instigating pain to people, never mind if it's physical or mental, is somethin' she enjoys immeasurably. And believe me, she's good in what she does."

Jack's serious words make you even more convinced that leaving and stowing away aboard the Pearl was the correct thing to do. If Jack were going to go against Delgado, then you'd be right there with him and rather die trying than sticking around in Port Royal and waiting for someone to bring you the bad news. You certainly weren't underestimating Jack's talents, but you didn't want to even take the chance of going through that ever again.

"All the more reason for me to come with you. You're going to need all the help you can get," you argue.

"The bloody reason for you to stay behind was that you'd be safe and I wouldn't have to worry about you getting hurt by Delgado!" Jack yells in aggravation, whirling around to face you. "I wanted you to stay, because the thought of that she-devil harming you in some way is unbearable, alright?!"

You're stunned to silence by Jack's ardent confession. Jack seems slightly surprised himself as well, and you wonder if he meant to say that out loud in the first place. "Oh," you reply quietly. Suddenly, a warm, fuzzy feeling spreads throughout you, not unlike some good rum when it hits ones stomach and warms the entire body from head to feet. Perhaps… maybe Jack possibly felt something more towards you than just friendship? Dared you even go down that path?

"Oh," Jack repeats, slight mocking edge in his tone. Turning his gaze away from yours, he goes on. "You're my best friend, if were you not yet aware of the fact. Despite your ability of being slightly pestering and infuriatingly stubborn at times, I'm not fond of the idea of losing you just yet," he finishes in slightly lighter tone.

"Gee, thanks very much," you acknowledge, feeling your stomach sinking at the same time.

Best friends. Of course, you fool, you scold yourself. For a moment there, you were tempted to let him know why exactly you didn't want to be left behind, being afraid that Jack wouldn't come back, but decide to keep that bit of information to yourself after Jack's elaboration.

Why the hell was the man so confusing at times? You'd had this odd game of sorts going on between the two of you for ages, and sometimes you could bet Jack felt a bit more than platonic towards you. But then, sometimes he did act as if you were one of the guys. He blew hot and cold, and frankly you were starting to get pretty tired of it. It made no sense to you at times, but this was Jack Sparrow you were talking about. He rarely made sense like that. But then again, maybe he was just interested in getting you in his bed for one night and that's it. The idea made you instantly feel scornful; if that's all he wanted from you, then he might as well stick to the whores on Tortuga. Your pride wouldn't allow you to be degraded into that level and be but one of his one-night stands he'd forget all about when the morning dawned.

"Nevertheless, the fact that remains is that you've gone against my orders," Jack speaks up sternly again after a moment. "And you know that disobeyers aboard my Pearl get what they deserve."

For a moment, the picture of being flogged floats through your mind. Jack wouldn't do that, would he…? For a moment, Jack regards you silently with narrowed eyes.

"You're getting off easy this once. Don't let it happen again," he emphasizes meaningfully. "You'll be swabbing the decks and doing the dishes today, and I don't want to hear any complaining about it, savvy? I think I'm being rather lenient for not floggin' you."

You hated washing dishes more than any other task, and Jack knew it. Swabbing decks was a close second. "Savvy," you reply curtly, not really looking forward to either of the duties. It would take you the whole damn day, but Jack was right; you were getting off easy.

Jack shakes his head and mutters crossly, "What I really should do is put you over my lap and give you a spanking, something that Bloodshot probably never did."

Had you not been so irate, you would've most likely made a lewd remark at that. Instead, you glare up at him. "You're not my father."

"Thank heavens for that," he retorts just as stingingly.

"Are we done already, Captain? I have decks to swab," you ask with sarcastic smile.

"Aye. Get going," Jack says, nodding his head towards the doors of the quarters.

"Thank you very much," you mutter, getting up from the chair and stalking out of the cabin. Pushing the doors open, you start slightly as you come across Gibbs, Anamaria, Will, Elizabeth and some of the crewmembers who are crowding the entrance, having obviously been listening in on the argument. You sigh and roll your eyes, pushing past them and stalking off to find the swab and a bucket.

As you stomp off, you catch Jack's irritated voice yelling, "Don't you people have anything better to do?!"

* * * * *

Anamaria glanced up from her task, looking across the deck towards the bow where you were busy scrubbing the said deck. You were using the swab furiously, irritated frown on your face, your fists curled so tightly around the cane that Anamaria was almost certain you were imagining it being Jack's neck instead. Biting her lower lip in amusement, the mulatto woman turned her head towards the stern. Her gaze climbed up to the helm where Jack was standing behind the rudder, looking just as disgruntled as you did. Anamaria chuckled to herself as she witnessed the most entertaining play unfolding in front of her eyes.

Ever since you'd stormed out of Jack's quarters and promptly started to swab the decks as your punishment required in the afternoon, the name of the game between you and Jack was cold shoulder and bad blood. The glowering looks had flown between the two infuriatingly stubborn people, both unwilling to yield first and apologize from the other. Jack had marched over to the helm and stayed there, while you'd rebelliously stomped over to the opposite end of the ship and started to swab the deck. The evening was slowly starting to win over the day, and Anamaria supposed the dispute wouldn't last for too long, anymore.

She, Gibbs, Will and Elizabeth (who'd obviously settled any dispute between them) and few other crewmembers that had witnessed the furious Captain dragging you across the deck to his quarters had listened in on the match between Jack and you; frankly, Anamaria was surprised it had taken this long. Both you and the Captain were strong willed and incredibly stubborn people, and Anamaria had been waiting for the inevitable clash of wills for a longer time already. They hadn't of course heard but the loudest bits of the argument through the doors, mainly coming from Jack, but what they had heard had been enough to convince Anamaria even further that things weren't as they seemed between her friend and her Captain.

Pausing her chore for a moment, Anamaria reflected upon the two people that underneath were so very similar. Despite her rather blunt ways of approaching people, Anamaria could be very discreet when she so wished to. And ever since she, Gibbs and the rest of the crew had fished you and Jack out of the water a year back, Anamaria had been observing the two of you in secrecy. Much to her surprise, Anamaria had discovered that you'd gotten under Jack's skin faster and deeper than anyone she'd ever known. True, she didn't know much of Jack Sparrow's past; that was pretty much a mystery to everybody but Jack himself, but she'd known the quirky Captain for few years already. Yes, he was a ladies man and enjoyed chasing after skirts, but Anamaria had never known Jack to actually have a serious relationship that based on respect and affection instead of physical attraction.

Jack did respect Anamaria, of course, since she'd slap him silly if he didn't and because she was a loyal first mate; Jack respected Elizabeth Swann, because she was Will's sweetheart and, Anamaria figured, the spunky lass had most likely earned Jack's approval after the whole mess with the wretched Barbossa. Not too many girls would have launched themselves at the now-deceased Captain Barbossa and start punching him. Even if she'd burned the rum, a fact that Jack still kept reminding her of.

And, mostly, Jack did respect you. Very much so in fact, which was probably why he hadn't acted on his attraction towards you. Anamaria wasn't stupid and she wasn't blind, even though it seemed both you and Jack were. Perhaps, Anamaria thought, Jack respected you too much to turn you into his lover. It was a high possibility…

Anamaria sighed softly to herself. If only the two of them would get over their fears. Anamaria was certain that was exactly the reason that was keeping you and Jack apart; fear of the unknown. The unknown factor in this being love. Pirates didn't fall in love, since they couldn't really afford it. It made them vulnerable and all that crap Anamaria thought were nothing but lame excuses.

Pirates or not, they were only human, at the end of the day.

Exhaling through her nose, Anamaria shook her head slightly and returned her attention back to the task at hand. "Maybe some day," she said to herself quietly.

* * * * *

Jack gripped the handles of his beloved Pearl's rudder tightly after correcting the course slightly, feeling the smooth wood underneath his palms. Normally, there was nothing that made him more relaxed and content than the open horizon before him and the wheel beneath his hands, but now it didn't seem to work. His flaming temper had long since been calmed, but the disappointment he'd felt during the whole argument with you still lingered on his mind, nagging at his thoughts.

Damn stubborn woman, Jack thought moodily to himself. What was it with women and following orders? Did they have some sort of forcing need to always do the exact opposite than what was asked of them? Jack had truly thought that he understood women and knew the way their minds worked, but the incident in the afternoon had served to prove him very wrong in that aspect. As much as it stung him, even Jack had to admit that women were the most peculiar, most unpredictable beings ever created on God's green earth, ones that no man could ever wish to fully understand or figure out. Jack wasn't exactly a very religious person, but he briefly pondered upon the saying 'God works in mysterious ways'. Scratch that concept, he decided ironically; in reality, it was women who were deserving of such aphorism.

Shaking his head slightly in irritation, Jack again thought back to the 'conversation' that took place in the afternoon. You had gone against his precise orders, disobeyed the order of the Captain. Naturally, you'd be punished for such stunt. Jack hated having his authority questioned, but that wasn't what had upset him the most, really.

The main reason for his anger had originated from worry. Jack knew you could hold your ground with a cutlass and had quick wits, but Gabriela Delgado was another matter entirely. Jack was a bit uncertain of her; he had no idea if the Spaniard was still upset with him over their previous encounter even after all these years. If Delgado found out how important you were to him, she could try to use you to her advantage. Knowing Gabriela's liking for causing people pain and agony, the thought of her somehow harming you was more than Jack could bear to even think of. Jack hadn't meant to blurt out that to you during the fight, though, and had covered up his slip with sticking to the safe explanation of you being his best friend. Which was true, but… No. Don't even go down that way, Jack ordered himself sternly, pushing that particular train of thought back and burying it away, like he'd been doing for months.

The second reason why he'd felt so angered and hurt was the fact that you had broken your word; not as a crewmember, but as a friend. After the mutiny eleven years ago, trust in other people was something that didn't come easily to Jack. During those years he'd spent alone, he'd learned to depend solely on himself; that way he could be sure he wasn't betrayed again. He'd build walls around himself, keeping everyone out. Slowly, those walls had started crumbling down after he'd met you over a year ago in the brig in Port Royal, and then Will and Elizabeth a little later.

…And yet you'd still choose anyone of them over me. Your words echoed in Jack's mind, bringing back the stab of shame he'd felt when you'd uttered the words in the afternoon. Jack had covered the guilty wince that crossed his face quickly by rubbing a hand down his face. You were right; you hadn't budged from his side during the entire damned misadventure with Barbossa like everyone else had at some point. It had been, in fact, Jack himself who'd acted like he didn't give a damn about you after Barbossa had taken him and you aboard the Pearl after Will had gotten Elizabeth out of the cave. Jack still hadn't forgotten the hurt that flashed in your eyes at his dispassionate words, recalling how he had to evade your gaze in order to keep up his façade in front of Barbossa.

But his intentions had been good, and he never meant to intentionally hurt your feelings. It was then that Jack realized that this was the same thing; your intentions had too been good, and you hadn't meant to hurt him. You'd given him a taste of his own medicine, and it wasn't exactly appetizing.

Sighing, Jack gazed over the helm, towards the bow where you were tirelessly swabbing the decks. Face it, Jack ol' boy. You owe her an apology, he thought to himself. Jack hadn't asked for many apologies in his life, and he disliked having to say the words, but he was Captain Jack Sparrow and he didn't back out on something that had to be done. He did have some principles, after all.

Suddenly, Jack thought of all the trouble you and Elizabeth went trough to sneak onboard, and he couldn't stop the chuckle that escaped his mouth, or small grin that pulled at his lips. One thing was for certain; you certainly had a lot of spirit! Jack couldn't help but to admire your spunk and determination. Glancing towards Anamaria, who was doing some menial task close to the helm, Jack yelled for her to come up and take over the wheel.

It was time for Anamaria to do something else besides glance back and worth between him and you and smirk to herself.

* * * * *

You slant the raggedy swab violently back on the deck after dunking it in quickly the bucket filled with now somewhat dirtied water, scrubbing the dark timber of the Pearl's deck furiously. You're still quite pissed at Jack, but you're not too sure anymore as to exactly why. A part of you was still smarting over Jack's reprimanding; no doubt it was your bloody stubborn pride. One day, it would probably get you into some serious trouble.

Sighing, you rest for a moment and lean your weight slightly against the cane of the swab. The sun was starting to set already, but Tortuga wasn't too far away anymore. You were suddenly feeling awfully tired, but that was really no wonder. After you'd stormed out of Jack's cabin after the fight, you'd gone to get the swab and the bucket and start to swab. After that, you'd have to stop for a while; to do the dishes after the crew had eaten. After tackling the huge pile of dirty dishes and finally came out as a winner, you'd gone up and resumed the swabbing again.

You frown as you suddenly notice the condition of your right wrist; there are few dark bruises over your skin where Jack's fingers gripped at you. You rub them lightly with you finger, wincing momentarily as they feel sore at the contact. Well, suppose you might have deserved them. Besides, you did bruise easily. One thing is for sure; after this quarrel between the two of you was cleared, Jack would be feeling so guilty for bruising you. He's really a softie deep down inside. You smile slightly at this, but then remember you were supposed to be angry with him. Trying to hold onto your irritation, you find the attempt is futile. Oh, who were you trying to kid? You could never stay mad with Jack for long. Damn him. The scruffy pirate had gotten under your skin quicker and deeper than anyone else ever before.

Huffing, annoyed at yourself for not being able to stay angry with Jack, you grab the cane of the swab with both hands and bend your back a little, staring to furiously scrub the deck again.

"You're going to wear a hole there if you don't change the place soon."

You halt your movements at the lazily drawled comment, but don't lift your gaze from the swab. How the hell did Jack manage to sneak up on you without you noticing? Inhaling a breath and bracing yourself for whatever he was about to throw at you this time, you tilt your head a bit sideways and look up at him in acknowledgement.

You frown slightly in puzzlement when Jack grins and speaks again, "And I don't much care for holes on my ship."

You're completely mystified by his seemingly typical behaviour, as if there had been no argument between you to begin with. You'd been certain Jack was still angry, and he'd thought up some new tedious tasks for you to perform until he thought your punishment was served. But instead he seems to be back to his normal, cheeky self. For some reason, this brings back your almost forgotten irritation.

"Captain," you finally respond formally in cool tone, letting him know that you're not yet quite as placated as he apparently is. To further demonstrate this, you snap your attention back to the task at hand and resume the scrubbing.

"Ah, luv, I wasn't kidding about the hole," Jack's remark makes you stop. Oh, so now you're his 'luv' again, huh? You glance at him for a moment, offer him a quick, rather insincere smile and move the swab an inch to the left, promptly starting to scrub again.

Jack lets out a frustrated, impatient huff, and you almost grin at the sound. He's getting all aggravated over your stubbornness. Well, too bad.

"I see you're not making this any easier for me," Jack mutters sourly, and you can practically feel his scolding, narrowed gaze upon you.

Deciding to have a little pity on him, you stop scrubbing and look at him properly, blinking innocently. "And what exactly would that be, Captain Sparrow? I'm just cleaning the decks like you told me to earlier. See? I can follow orders when they mean not leaving a friend behind while you go and get yourself killed!" you finish spitefully, and mentally slap your forehead as soon as the words leave your mouth. Luckily Jack doesn't grab onto your little slip.

"Perfect!" Jack exclaims joyously with a small wave of hands, completely ignoring your hostile tone, "Because I'm ordering you to stop that and sit down," Jack says sneakily, shooing you backwards with waving his hand rapidly back and forth, motioning towards the small amount of crates stored on the deck a while away.

Sighing, you trudge the few steps over to the crates and sit down on one of them, the swab still on your hand. You drop it on the deck with a small clatter as Jack seats himself next to you. You wonder what's going on, and why is Jack being so hospitable all of the sudden. You do know that Jack doesn't usually stay mad for long, and you ponder if he has decided to forgive you and forget about the whole thing. That seems like something Jack would probably do, he is a very easy-going person after all.

"Now, as we've both had some time to calm down, I think maybe we should have a rational conversation about what happened today, savvy?" Jack starts, his voice low and even, watching you as he awaits your reply.

In spite of yourself, you can't hold back the smirk that pulls at your lips. "I wouldn't necessarily connect the word 'rational' to you…"

Jack raises his forefinger at you, waving it a little. "Watch it," he rumbles with a warning edge, although his eyes glint humorously. You smile slightly, but sincerely. Damn it, it's impossible to stay mad with him! Especially when he keeps looking at you with those beautiful, dark brown eyes that seriously wreak havoc on your defences.

"Truth be told, I wanted to apologize to you," Jack speaks up again after a moment, and you raise your brow in surprise. You open your mouth to argue that it's actually you who should be sorry, but Jack hushes you, waving with his hand.

"Just hear me out luv, I'm only saying this once," he grins, and then takes a breath before going on. "I'm sorry that I left you behind. I honestly thought it would be the best for your well being if you had. I didn't mean to offend you in any way, you're just very important to me."

You look at him in the eyes, smiling a small smile. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he smiles back and winks. "Maybe it was a bit selfish thing to do, but I'm a selfish man, luv!"

"No you're not," you snort, smiling. "Why would you be apologizing if you were?"

Jack rolls his eyes. "Fine," he huffs, then adds quickly with wide eyes, "But you dare go telling that to anyone! I have a reputation to uphold, you know?"

You laugh. "Alright, you have my word."

Jack nods once, satisfied. "So, why did you leave, really? Give me the real reason this time, alright?"

You glance at Jack, who looks expectant. Looking away, you sigh slightly, knowing that you have to tell him the truth. "I guess… ‘cause I was afraid," you manage to get out.

Jack waits for a moment for you to go on, never taking his eyes off of your profile. "Of what?" he asks after you keep quiet.

You shrug, not really feeling that comfortable telling him this. "That you'd leave there for good. That you wouldn't come back."

Jack frowns, looking at you incredulously. "You can't be serious. Darling, I would never had left you there for good."

"No, it's not… you don't understand," you say quietly, shaking your head.

"Explain it to me, then," Jack says gently.

You tilt your head to the side and look at him for a moment. Jack is looking at you with intense eyes, waiting patiently.

With a small sigh, you nod. “It was that thing you said before you left, you promised you’d be back before soon. The last time I heard those words was when my father left me on that small town to wait for him four years ago. He promised that he’d be back soon, but he never did come back. And I didn’t want to be left behind again, in case...”

“…I wouldn’t come back, either?” Jack finishes with a raised brow.

“I know, I know, it’s stupid really,” you say wryly, shaking your head a little.

“No no, it’s not stupid, luv,” Jack reassures. “It’s not stupid at all. I didn’t know that,” he says, taking your hand and clasping it in his. You smile at this, thinking how nice it feels.

“I didn’t want to stay in Port Royal and take the chance that someone brings me bad news again. It was hard enough the last time, and I don’t want to go through that again…” you trail off, lowering your gaze.

Jack is brushing his thumb over the back of your hand, and the gesture is oddly comforting to you. “You haven’t much talked about that, luv,” he states, and you know that by ‘that’ Jack means your father’s death.

You nod and shrug slightly. “I guess it’s one of those things I’ve tried not to linger on… otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to move on after that. I’m not afraid of Delgado, Jack,” you say resolutely, looking at him. “I’m afraid of being left alone again.”

Jack looks at you for a moment, and smiles a small smile. “Come here,” he murmurs, and much to your surprise, leans forward and hugs you, wrapping his arms around you and pressing the side of his face into your hair.

You stiffen momentarily, caught off guard by the impromptu embrace, before relaxing and enjoying the feel of it. You return the favour and drape your own arms around him, unbelievable feeling of coming home filling you instantly. God, having him hold you like this feels so right; like this is where you belong. The embrace evokes the undeniable longing inside you that’s been this far kept restrained for months, lingering in the back of your mind.

“Thanks for telling me all this,” Jack whispers in your hair, and you close your eyes for a moment as his warm breath tickles your ear pleasantly. “I promise you luv, I won’t leave you alone, ever. And Captain Jack Sparrow doesn’t make promises he doesn’t intend do keep,” he says, slightly boastfully, and you can hear the smirk in his voice.

You laugh quietly as you keep your arms around his shoulders, appreciating the feel of his muscles. “Thanks, Jack,” you murmur back, smiling as you feel his left hand lightly stroking your back.

“You silly girl,” Jack suddenly chuckles, but makes no move to let you go, but ever so slightly rocks you. You’re certainly not complaining. “How could you ever think I’d choose those stiff necks over you, hm?”

You decide that it’s a rhetorical question, and just shrug your shoulders slightly and make a small, noncommittal noise from your throat in reply. You both even bother to point out that you’re hardly a girl anymore. You’re too caught up in basking in the fact that he’s embracing you to start thinking. All too soon, in your opinion, Jack slides his hands carefully up to your shoulders, pulling apart from you. He has a small, smug smirk on his face, and you’re sure he’s about to make some sly crack about the hug, but that’s when his eyes catch something on your right wrist.

With a frown, Jack grabs you hand gently and pushes the sleeve of your shirt a bit further up, revealing the small, dark bruises on your wrist. The displeased frown on his face deepens, and he hisses a curse under his breath while turning your wrist carefully, seeing if there’s anymore marks.

You’re surprised by his strong reaction, and feel compelled to ease his obvious anger at himself. “It’s nothing Jack, don’t worry about them. I bruise easily, anyway.”

Jack shakes his head as he stares at the bruises, now looking more guilty than angry. “I’m sorry, luv. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he responds despondently.

You smile. “I know. Honestly, it’s okay. It was an accident, just forget about it.”

Jack doesn’t reply, but keeps holding onto your hand, stroking his thumb lightly over the small discolorations. He looks at you in the eyes and abruptly lifts your hand to his lips. Slowly, he brushes a soft, barely-there kiss on each of the marks, his intense gaze never leaving yours. You inhale sharply at the feel of his soft lips sensuously brushing against your skin, and your heartbeat speeds up a little at the contact. Jack’s expressive eyes are the darkest shade of brown you’ve ever seen as he keeps his eyes firmly on yours; you’re unable to look away from their drowning depths. You’re both surprised and intrigued by the sudden shift of the mood, wondering how the situation suddenly jumped from a friendly talk to a rather intimate exchange.

Jack smiles a small smile as his lips leave your skin, and you find yourself missing the contact almost instantly. “All better now, luv,” he whispers huskily.

You feel your heart skip a beat and your breathing hitching slightly at his low, seductive voice. No other man has ever affected you quite like this before. You suddenly become excruciatingly aware of your close proximity to him, and the fact that he still hasn’t let go of your hand, but keeps drawing small circles on it with his thumb.

“Yeah,” you reply quietly while still looking at him in the eyes, your voice sounding awfully breathless to your own ears. Oh God, you had to get out of the situation before you cracked and did something incredibly stupid and thoughtless, like throwing yourself at him and kissing the hell out of him right there on the bloody crates.

“Well,” you start, forcing your voice sound normal and managing a cheery smile. “Should we get back to work? Won’t we be coming up on Tortuga soon?”

“Mmm,” Jack hums in agreement but stays still, watching you keenly. His intense scrutiny is starting to make you feel a bit uncomfortable. “Suppose you’re right,” he finally says at length, getting up from the crate.

Both saddened and relived that the moment has passed, you get up as well, pushing all those thoughts once again in the back of your mind. However, as you get up, you completely forgot the swab lying on the deck where you had dropped it and with impeccable skill, trip on the damn thing. You fall straight into Jack, who catches you without much effort, wrapping his arms firmly around your waist.

“Whoops,” you mutter in embarrassment, bracing yourself with your palms against his… chest. Bloody hell. This is really not the way to get out of the situation! Your left hand somehow managed to slip past the long overcoat he’s wearing in the impact, and the only thing that’s separating your palm from his warm skin is the white shirt underneath that isn’t exactly thick. It might as well not be there at all, for all the good it does…

Jack looks very pleased with the situation. He’s looking down at you with that typical smirk of his, and actually has the nerve to tighten his hold of your waist, snaking his arms around you more firmly and pulling you flush against him, leaving your arms trapped between your bodies. You’re not too much shorter than Jack, maybe an inch of two since Jack isn’t really an overly tall man, but it’s enough for him to loom slightly over you.

“Well, this is interesting,” he says in low voice, his gaze finding yours again. “You’re lucky I was here to catch you, luv...”

“Yeah, very lucky,” you reply, trying to be sarcastic but much to your terror, is comes out husky. The last time you were this close to him was when he kissed you in the water after the fall of the battlements a year ago.

Jack smirk has vanished and his face is serious, his intense eyes drop from yours to linger across your face, settling finally on your lips. Out of reflex, you wet them slightly with the tip of your tongue, and Jack’s eyes seem to grow even darker as he watches you do this. His burning gaze makes you swallow your dry throat, and you watch in some sort of haze as Jack brings his face slowly closer to yours, and you know what’s about to happen…

“Oy, Jack!!”

You snap out of your daze by Gibbs’ voice and you stiffen, whereas Jack straightens himself up, looking ready to murder Gibbs. You blink your eyes to clear your thoughts as Jack sighs and reluctantly removes his arms around you, taking a small step away. You clear your throat awkwardly and pick up the swab, holding onto it with both hands as Jack slips back into his typical, carefree mood.

“Well, luv,” Jack says airily and winks, “Duty calls.”

You manage a smile and a nod, and as soon as Jack starts walking away (with small annoyed air around him) you sit back on the crate, afraid your knees were going to give up under you. Squeezing your eyes shut, you slowly count to ten inside your head. You reached one obvious conclusion as you thought about the kiss that almost happened.

You were going to shoot Gibbs.

* * * * *

CHAPTER 13 - Rum and Ruminations

“Ah, home sweet home… Let me tell you, there will never be another place that’s even remotely as glorious as this one is, mates!”

Only one place in the Caribbean is deserving of such praise from the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow himself, followed closely by a broad, gold and platinum filled grin.

Tortuga!

Oh yes, it was still the same it was the last time you visited the fine town few months ago. It was still noisy, seedy and messy. But it was also full of life, excitement and some very interesting people. Really, there was more to the town than just the taverns and brothels, though most people might strongly disagree. It wasn’t really that bad of a place. Honestly!

“And thank God for that.”

Aha, the inevitable voice of all things proper-like and legal. Commodore Norrington of the Royal Navy of England was not quite as impressed by Tortuga’s unique atmosphere as Jack undeniably was. The Commodore was looking around with obvious distaste, even though he seemingly tried to curb his blatant disgust at the sight of the numerous drunkards and whores running (well, stumbling would be more apt description, for the most part) around the streets.

“Now, don’t go knockin’ down what ye haven’t given a go first, Commodore,” Jack replies fluently with a grin and a casual wave of his right hand as your rag-tag group strolls leisurely along the sandy streets lit with torches. “The good ol’ Tortuga might have a surprise of two for you, yet.”

“Of that I have absolutely no doubt.” Norrington's retort is dry as he narrows his eyes at the very inebriated man who nearly ran into him.

Your roll your eyes at this, but Jack just chuckles, in a way that clearly suggests he’s going to have the last word in this matter, at the end of the day. You have absolutely no doubt of that; this was Jack’s turf, after all.

The time had slipped well into the evening when you’d finally anchored the Black Pearl at the coast of Tortuga. Jack, you, Will, Elizabeth, Anamaria, Gibbs and several other crewmembers had gone ashore, only a small group staying behind to take care of the Pearl. You had been most surprised when Norrington, along with Mullroy and Murtogg, met you at the docks and insisted to come with you, Jack had been more than happy to let the Commodore tag along, a mischievous glint in his dark eyes. You had the funny feeling Jack was correct about the surprises he mentioned a moment ago, and just hoped Jack wouldn’t pull anything too nasty on the poor Commodore. But then again, he did try to hang Jack the last time… so really he deserved whatever was coming for him.

Norrington, Mullroy and Murtogg had left their fancy coats, the ridiculous wigs and hats back aboard the Dauntless that was supposedly anchored quite the while away from Tortuga, hidden somewhere a bit further. You didn’t know exactly where, and didn’t really even care too much. Despite this, they still get some looks that alternate from curious to strange. In Tortuga, you didn’t see a lot of people with such clean, crisp shirts that the men wore underneath the uniform jackets.

Norrington was glancing around warily, with an air of disgust. You could bet this place was the last place the Commodore expected to be going to, and again realize how important catching Delgado is to him. Mullroy and Murtogg are, too, looking around, but in far more exited and curious manner. They remind you a bit of two kids in a candy store, which is really quite surprising. Every one and then, they exchange a comment or two about the things they’re seeing, grinning.

“So,” you ask Elizabeth, who’s gazing around with an expression that’s a mixture of curiousness and hesitation. “What do you think about it?”

Elizabeth thinks for a moment, before looking at you and smiling slightly. “Well, it’s certainly different than any place I’ve ever seen!”

You chuckle. “Believe me, it’ll grow on you.”

Will rolls his eyes good-naturedly. You catch this, and quirk your eyebrow impishly. “Are you thinking about seeing pink elephants flying up at the ceiling again, Will?”

Will colors slightly at them reminder of his drunken antics a year back and clears his throat awkwardly, making both Elizabeth and Anamaria look at him questioningly.

“What this about pink elephants?” Elizabeth asks curiously.

“Nothing,” Will replies forcefully, casting a meaningful glance at you that tells you to keep your mouth shut. Dream on, Will!

“Oh, Will here was royally smashed the last time he was here, when we were on our way to get you, Elizabeth,” you reply with a smirk, earning a scornful look from Will. “He kept seeing flying, pink elephants at the ceiling of the tavern we were in.” Anamaria bursts into gleeful laugh.

“Oh. Is that so?” Elizabeth says, trying to keep a straight face. Despite her best efforts, she can’t stifle her giggles, and Will sighs.

“Thank you,” Will tells you sarcastically, and you grin in return. “You’re welcome, Sugarlump!”

The re-surfacing of the awful nickname only makes Elizabeth and Anamaria laugh harder, and you join her after seeing the disgusted face he makes at the particular word.

Jack glances behind his shoulder, seeing you, Anamaria and Elizabeth laughing like crazy persons and a very flustered Will. Smirking, he stops his steps for a moment and waits for Will to catch up. “Now, lad,” Jack starts, “If you need some advice in how to chat up the ladies, don’t hesitate to ask me. Ye obviously need some practice. This,” Jack points his thumb at you, Anamaria and Elizabeth who are recovering from your laughing fit, “Is not the way to go, savvy?”

“Thank you, Jack. I’ll remember that the next time,” Will replies dryly.

Jack nods once with narrowed eyes, pointing his finger at Will and waving it slightly, seemingly completely oblivious to Will’s sarcasm. “You do that.”

“So Cap’n, where we be headin’?” Gibbs speaks up, glancing at Jack inquisitively.

Jack grins, his golden teeth glinting in the torchlight. “Where do you think, Gibbs?”

Gibbs grins in anticipation, obviously looking forward to the pints of rum ahead. “To the Bride, then?”

“Exactly, my good man,” Jack replies. “To the Bride.”

After a moment of wandering along the noisy streets of Tortuga, Jack leads you into a familiar tavern; the Faithful Bride. Whores and barmaids are bustling about, and the ordinary drunken men are immersed in fistfights. Every now and then, the sounds of glasses being broken, tables being thrown over and other various noises can be heard. In other words, nothing has changed since the last time you were here.

Jack tells Gibbs and Anamaria to get a table as you and Jack head towards the bar. Dodging the drunken patrols, you trail behind Jack as you make your way deeper into the candle-lit building.

“Do you know where we can find this Captain Fowler, then?” you ask Jack as you two are about to reach the bar.

“’Course I do, luv!” he exclaims, very self-assuredly.

You smile slightly, shaking your head in amusement. “How do you know him, anyway?” you ask curiously.

Jack smiles slightly at your questioning and gets a reminiscent look on his face as he thinks about his reply. “Oh, let’s just say that he’s a very old, dear friend of mine…” he trails off with a small, fond smile on his lips.

You raise your brow, now more curious than ever. “Aren’t you being mysterious? If he’s such a good friend of yours, how come you’ve never mentioned him before? When was the last time you’ve seen him?”

“You do know that curiosity killed the cat, luv,” Jack chuckles, glancing at you as you reach the bar.

“No it didn’t. It made kittens,” you retort with a smug grin.

“Oh, so that’s how it went? Interesting,” Jack murmurs as he locates the typically unkempt, dirty man tending the bar some feet away, busy pouring drinks.

“So…?” you prod after a moment, staring at Jack expectantly.

Jack tears his impatient gaze from the barkeep and looks at you, brows raised in questioning manner as he lets out an inquisitive hum. You roll your eyes in exasperation, and Jack grins. You know Jack’s doing it on purpose just to rile you. “When was the last time you’ve seen him?” you repeat your question.

“A year or two ago…” he replies vaguely, and you narrow your eyes at him. Jack sighs in defeat. “Alright. Roughly around six years ago, give or take…”

You raise your brows incredulously. “Six years? How do you know if he’s even alive anymore?”

Jack lets out a laugh, his eyes twinkling as he looks at you. “Believe me, if there’s one person in the Caribbean who’ll outlive anyone, that would be Lucas Fowler,” he replies lightly, and then grins impishly. “Well, after me, of course.”

You smile. “But of course. You never answered my other question… why haven’t you mentioned him before?” you enquire carefully, your tone suggesting that you’re curious but you don’t want to pry.

Jack studies you for a moment, looking solemn. You start to think he isn’t going to tell, but then he starts talking in steady, low voice. “Fowler wants to keep a tad lower profile these days. See, he gave up piracy years ago, but there are still people around who aren’t exactly on best of terms with him. I owe him a whole lot, luv, and that’s why I want to help him maintain his solitude. That’s also why I don’t much talk about him, or see him that often anymore. Besides,” he smirks suddenly, “Seeing him only once in some odd years is well enough!”

You tilt your head, smiling slightly. “What do you mean?”

Jack regards you with an amused smirk for a moment, until it morphs into a grin that shows some of the golden teeth. “You’ll see when you meet him. You’ll see.”

You purse your lips and narrow your eyes at his enigmatic response, now feeling more curious about this elusive Captain Fowler than ever before.

Jack is however already looking out for the barkeep again, motioning him over impatiently. “What does a man have to do here to get a bloody pint of rum...” he grumbles under his breath as the barkeep finally starts to slowly trudge towards you.

“’Ello there, Captain Sparrow. Long time no see. Yer usual?” the barkeep asks in monotonous tone after he stops in front of Jack and you.

“Aye, but make it,” Jack pauses for a second, counting the people in your group. “Nine. No, might as well take full ten, two for me. And some information, if it’s not too much of an inconvenience.”

The barkeep snorts, grinning slightly. ”Information will be costin’ ye, Captain.”

“I’m already paying some handsome pieces for the drinks! I see it this way, mate,” Jack starts with a small smirk, leaning a bit closer to the shorter man. “Me and me crew are probably the best customers this lovely little establishment will ever have. And, since we keep coming back, I think you should be a pal this time and tell me what I want to know. A little frequenter gratuity, if you will,” he pauses for a moment, looking at the man dead in the eyes. “Savvy?”

The man scrunches up his face a little, probably never having heard such big words before. “Fine. Whatever ye say. What d’ye wants to know?”

Jack smirks ever so slightly in victory. “You probably you know of Captain Fowler, eh?”

The barkeep nods. “Ol’ Lucas. Sure I know ‘im,” he says tersely, narrowing his eyes warily. “Now, ye don’t got some troubles with ‘im? I ain’t one to sell out such good folk.”

“No, no, quite contrary, my good mate. Lucas and I go way back, and I only need his opinion on something important,” Jack assures the barkeep, who nods again.

“Suppose I can tell ye, then. Nay, Fowler hasn’t been round this week, but he’ll be ‘ere tomorrow night. It’ll be Wednesday tomorrow, and he ain’t ever missed a single Wednesday durin’ all the five years I’ve been ‘ere,” he says, slamming four tankards of rum on the counter as he speaks. “One of the girls will bring up the rest.”

Jack acknowledges this with a curt nod, grabbing two of the tankards and handing them to you. Then he shoves his hand into one of the many pockets in his overcoat and takes out a bag of coins, throwing it on the counter without bothering to count them. The barkeep snatches the pouch quickly and starts to count them while Jack grabs the two remaining pints.

“Thanks ever so kindly, mate,” he tells the distraught barkeep and turns on his heels, and both of you start walking back towards the long table further towards the back that’s being occupied with Ana, Gibbs and the rest of your little group. You must admit, you were a bit surprised Jack ordered a pint to everyone, even to Norrington, Mullroy and Murtogg. But suppose that’s Jack Sparrow for you; everyone had to have at least one drink.

As you and Jack reach the table, you sit down on the wooden bench next to Anamaria and hand her the second pint. She smiles a bit in thanks, taking the tankard from you. Jack takes a seat next to Gibbs, across from you and mimics your action, planting the tankard in front of the older man who gratefully grabs it, taking a big gulp. Elizabeth is seated next to Anamaria, with Will on her other side. Murtogg and Mullroy are sitting on the other side of Gibbs, and Norrington is perched on a stool at the end of the long table. There are several thick, white candles placed on a clay platter in the middle of the table, spreading their soft yellow glow all over.

“Well?” Norrington asks Jack, impatient frown marring his face. “What did you find out?”

Jack smirks at the Commodore, lifting his tankard slightly in salute. “First things first, Commodore,” he says smugly, and bringing the pint to his lips and taking a long swig. He sighs in appreciation as he slams the tankard back on the worn tabletop, glancing around the busy tavern. “Bloody hell, I’ve missed this place.”

You smile at his sincerely murmured comment, before taking a drink from your own pint, relishing the taste as it slides down your throat and warms your belly. Just then, a barmaid with curly red hair and a rather tattered dress flits over with a tray of tankards, smiling at Jack in blatantly flirtatious manner.

“’Ere ye go, mates,” she simpers as she sets the six tankards from the tray on the table.

“Ah, thank you, darling. You’re an angel,” Jack smirks in return, typically eyeing the girl who lets out a laugh.

“Oh, Jack! I bet ye say that ta ev’ry girl ye meet!” she coos, fluttering her eyelashes and you roll your eyes in disgust.

“Yeah, actually he does,” you say dryly with a smirk and take a sip of your rum, earning a glare from the girl and a look that’s a cross between amusement and exasperation from Jack. “Just statin’ a fact, that’s all,” you respond innocently.

The girl narrows her eyes and stomps off huffily, and Jack shrugs. Plenty of fish in the sea, eh Jack? You’re surprised at the nasty thought that enters your mind and quickly shrug it off, taking another small sip of your rum. Anamaria glances at you, smirking smugly, but you ignore her knowing look.

“What’s all this…?” Will questions, eyeing the tankards with suspicion. Well, what do you think, Will? Pink elephant time! You somehow manage to refrain yourself from blurting the thought out loud.

Jack grins as he passes the full tankards along. “What does it look like, William? Not one person who sits at my table is left without a drink. I simply insist,” his grin only broadens as he looks at everyone, now seated with a pint of rum in front of them. Jack himself has two, and you smiled slightly at this.

“Captain Sparrow,” Norrington speaks up in disapproving tone. “I very much doubt that we came here just to drink this vile liquor you seem so overly fond of, now did we?”

Jack swallows a mouthful of rum before blinking and scrunching up his face, looking absolutely affronted. “Vile?!” he finally splutters incredulously. “Now now, Commodore, let’s not go down that way,” Jack starts, his eyes narrowing slightly. “This ‘vile liquor’ as you so degradingly put it, happens to be the very finest thing ever to come out of the Caribbean! Right now, we’re all equals here, around this table. And if you truly want my help with this little crusade, I suggest you start stepping down from that spotless pedestal of yours just a bit and have a nice pint of rum with us. I honestly don’t think that’s too much to ask for, mate,” Jack finishes seriously, staring at Norrington unwaveringly.

You detected the slight edge of annoyance in his tone, and await Norrington’s response with great interest. So does everyone else around the table, having fallen silent and looking at the Commodore.

Norrington holds Jack’s gaze for a moment, before visible faltering and getting a hesitant look on his face, breaking Jack’s piercing gaze and looking downwards, peering inside the tankard. Grabbing the pint, he takes a last, wary look at the contents and takes a carefully sip, cringing as he swallows the mouthful. The tension is broken as quickly as it appeared upon the table, and everyone relaxes.

Jack smirks smugly. “There! That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Norrington remains silent, but gives Jack a scathing glare. Jack just chuckles in return, grin pulling the corners of his lips upwards. Oh, he’s fully enjoying taking the Commodore down a notch or two. Murtogg and Mullroy are engaged in a hushed conversation that appears to be approaching bickering, while Will stares down at his pint somewhat cautiously. Elizabeth on the other hand takes a drink and doesn’t even flinch at the burning sensation as she gulps the rum down. You grin and Gibbs chuckles as you two see this, whereas Norrington looks scandalized and stunned as he stares at Elizabeth’s very un-ladylike behaviour.

Conversely, Jack is delighted, grinning broadly at Lizzie’s display of drinking habits. “See, luv? It’s so much better consumed than going up with the smoke.”

Anamaria snorts and Elizabeth rolls her eyes, but a small smile curves her lips up. Will shrugs slightly, and follows her fiancée’s example.

“Now that we’ve had little somethin’ to wet our whistles,” Gibbs starts, having just swallowed a huge gulp of rum, “Did ye find out about Fowler’s whereabouts, Jack?” he asks, and everyone except you looks at Jack expectantly.

Jack nods his head, and the two small plaits dangling from his chin sway slightly at the motion. “Aye, that I did. The barkeep says the man hasn’t been around for a while. But he’s certain he’ll be here tomorrow night.”

“Not until tomorrow?” Elizabeth asks.

“And just what are we supposed to do in the mean time, Captain?” Norrington asks in slightly cross tone.

A slow, broad grin spreads to Jack’s lips, the golden teeth peeking out and glinting in the candlelight. “Have more rum and make the most out of tonight, naturally!” he exclaims cheerfully, raising his almost empty tankard. “Drink up me ‘earties, yo ho,” he proclaims before downing the rest of the rum in his pint.

* * * * *

Few hours later, the atmosphere around the table is quite more… laid-back. It was probably well over midnight, already. You're leaning your elbow on the tabletop and resting your jaw on your palm, glancing around with a small, amused smile. You decided earlier to take it a bit easier tonight, and still nurse your second, half-empty pint in your other hand. Jack, on the other hand, is already having his fifth or sixth pint. Again, you wonder where is the man storing all that alcohol since he still seems perfectly lucid, conversing with Gibbs quietly about something. Murtogg and Mullroy are so obviously tipsy it's very amusing, their conversation having gained volume and drunken laughter. Norrington had forced himself to drink down the first pint, but declined the second one, that killjoy. You would've paid to see the Commodore drunk. Hmm, maybe you could try to spike his water somehow…

Your musings of how to get Norrie smashed are interrupted by a flash of a familiar figure on the other side of the tavern, near the entrance. You frown and straighten your spine, narrowing your eyes as you try to find the character again in the midst of the other patrons in the tavern. However, you don't see the shape anymore, anywhere. You relax your posture, thinking if maybe you saw wrong. You could've sworn you saw… oh well, never mind. It was probably just a figment of your imagination, anyway.

"I can't stand this lovey-dovey crap going on my other side much longer," Anamaria suddenly grumbles so that only you hear her, making you forget all about the interruption and focus your attention on disgruntled Anamaria.

You purse your lips, smothering your smirk at Ana's description and tilt your head a bit to the side, catching a sight of Will and Elizabeth, who sit next to Anamaria, huddled close to each other and whispering quietly amongst themselves, smiling and holding hands like the young couple in love that they are.

"Young love and all that…" you smile, lifting your brow at Anamaria who looks cross. "What's the matter, Ana? You jealous?" you tease.

You know you're playing with fire, but simply can't let the opportunity go. Ana can consider this a payback for all those bloody times she's pestered and teased you about Jack.

Anamaria's eyes widen momentarily in indignation and she glares fiercely at you, her dark eyes flashing. "Excuse me?" she says in freezing tone. "I'm not jealous of anyone!" she hisses under her breath.

"Oh," you reply nonchalantly, rolling your eyes a bit. "Ye could've fooled me."

"Aw, shut it," Ana throws back, but her tone is not malicious.

You smile slightly and push forward. "Hey, it's nothing to be ashamed of, you know. Actually it's perfectly understandable…"

The thought of Anamaria finding herself a man is not impossible the least, but the fellow would have to be something special. Ana took no crap from nobody, and certainly wouldn't be tied down or ruled by anybody, much less a man. The man would have to understand her, and be prepared to endure some harsh words and possibly few stinging slaps, as well as match her wits and strong spirit. Men like that weren't exactly common. But underneath her somewhat harsh exterior, Anamaria was a loyal, emphatic woman, who had dreams of someday having herself her own family and a place to settle down. She'd actually told you so much during one night months ago, when you were both lying in your hammocks and talking before going to sleep. You knew something about Ana not many people knew; she adored children, and wanted as many as possible of her own someday. You could see this happening one day.

Anamaria looks at you, her eyes lighting up with mischievous gleam. "Aye, you'd know that, wouldn't ye…?"

Damn it. You should have known she'd hold onto that issue.

"Oh no, you are not going down that way, Ana, I'm warning you," you say quietly but sharply, glancing at her with warning look on your face. You would not have Anamaria start harassing you about that here, with Jack sitting across from you only some odd feet away. Now it's Anamaria's turn to smirk smugly as she thinks about this. Luckily for both of you, she decides not to say anything about that anymore.

Frankly, you were at a loss with Jack. The situation is odd, to say the least. Jack flirts with you, and now he has propositioned more intimate contact with you twice during the last… how long was it since you and Jack got smashing drunk in his quarters and talked about humiliated grapes? Was it a day or two ago? Everything has been happening so fast recently you're starting to loose the track of dates. Nevertheless, first there was the silent plead during that little rum-fest, which you declined, and now the almost kiss some hours ago. It would have happened if Gibbs hadn't decided to shout across the decks at that exact moment for Jack's assistance with something and interrupted the moment efficiently. There was no doubt of that; you were unable to deny your attraction towards Jack any longer at that moment.

But what if it had happened? Would Jack have just pull away afterwards, smile and say thanks and forget about the entire thing, his curiosity finally satisfied? Would things have gotten awkward between you two? Or would Jack have taken your agreement as a sign to feel free to kiss you whenever he so wanted, or maybe go even further? You had no idea what was Jack's stake in this game. You knew what yours was; all or nothing. You wouldn't be another one of his damn wenches that he beds and then forgets. Deep down, you know Jack wouldn't do that to you, since you're his best friend. But maybe that was just the thing that was keeping you apart. Damn, you had no idea. All this pondering and wondering was making you’re head throb.

You discreetly sneak a glance at Jack, studying his profile. He's listening intently on Gibbs' story, grinning broadly and laughing silently at something the older man said. The soft candlelight illuminates his face, glinting off the golden teeth and the baubles in his hair. The faint lighting of the tavern plays up the kohl smudged around his lids and makes his eyes look black and enchanting. Your hand squeezes involuntarily a bit tighter around the pint as you tear your greedy eyes off of the man seated across you. Gods, why does he have to look so incredibly beautiful? That was the word that matched him perfectly.

With an inaudible sigh, you slide your gaze down wards and stare at the patterns of the table's timber. You had absolutely no idea what was going on inside Jack's mind or how he felt towards you. He kept his true feelings mostly to himself, especially ones concerning you. Were you just deluding yourself in wishing Jack could ever feel more towards you than friendship and alternatively, lust?

Whoa, where did that come from? You think to yourself, frowning slightly. Unsettled, you take a gulp of rum and try to rid yourself of the subject. Glancing at the end of the table towards the mariners, you can't help but to smirk in amusement as you notice two prostitutes hitting on Mullroy and Murtogg, who are trying to politely decline the advances, seeing as Norrington is sitting next to them and looking quite disturbed, but they fail miserably in their drunken state, laughing and talking with the giggling whores.

The scene becomes even more hilarious as the other woman, one with pounds of make-up on her face and brown, curly hair, starts trailing her fingernail up Norrington's arm, smiling seductively. You can't suppress the snort of laughter, and hug your palm to your lips to hide your smirk. You notice everyone else is following the scene with amused interest as well, Anamaria is smirking mercilessly, Will and Elizabeth try as well to suppress their laughter, and Jack is grinning gleefully.

After watching Norrington trying to unsuccessfully pry of the woman, Jack clears his throat and speaks up so that the to women hear him over the noise of the tavern. "I'm sorry ladies, but I'm afraid your efforts are wasted on ol' James, there. He doesn't swing your way, you see…" he trails off impishly, and you, Anamaria and Gibbs burst out in laughter, while Will coughs and Elizabeth bites her lip to keep quiet.

The whores glance at Norrington who's squeezed his eyes shut in exasperation, trying to hold on to his patience. "Oh, 'e likes boys," the brown-haired one squeaks in realization, taking a step away from Norrington. "Sorry!" she adds as an after thought. Second later, both of the whores are gone, leaving a rather disappointed Mullroy and Murtogg behind.

"You could've told them we still like women!" Mullroy cries out, receiving a glare from Norrington. Realizing what he just blurted out, poor Mullroy tries to correct his sayings, stammering, "Of course I didn't mean that you liked boys by that, Commodore…"

The comment only evokes another round of laughter, but yours dies down as soon as you happen to glance to your side and see someone regrettably familiar making her way towards Jack.

Where did that come from? You repeat your previous thought with distaste as you watch the approaching woman with narrowed eyes.

"Jack Sparrow," Scarlett purrs as she saunters next to your table, all decked up in her red get-up that includes the dress, the big hair, and the make-up. You've always thought that chalk-white powder and outrageously painted lips and blushed cheeks make the whores look absolutely grotesque, but men obviously pay no mind so such trivial matters.

"Oh. Hello, you," Scarlett goes on bluntly with no kindness in her voice as she supposedly only now notices you sitting across Jack. She knows your name but never says it out loud, just to spite you.

"Hi Crimson," you greet with fake smile, deliberately calling her with wrong name. You know she hates it. Scarlett glares at you like you were some kind of cockroach that needed to be squashed under her supposedly red heel as quickly as possible. Well, give it your best shot, darling. Try matching wits with me, and you'll never survive, you think to yourself. Scarlett wasn't exactly the brightest light in the horizon.

"Scarlett!" Jack exclaims joyously, interrupting the glaring between the two of you. If Jack noticed the hostility between you, he's not showing any signs of doing so. But he probably did, he's not blind, after all. "How delightful to see you again, luv..." he slurs slightly, the rum he's been steadily consuming starting to catch up on him.

Scarlett smiles sweetly at Jack, sidling closer to him. Jack is having no problems with this, a grin curling his lips upwards. You're disgusted. What the hell does Jack see in this woman that looks like she just crawled out of her coffin. That's what she looks like, a damn vampire. The blood of her previous victim is still staining her lips.

My, I'm turning into a poet, you think to yourself sarcastically. Damn it, I need another drink...

* * * * *

Some odd minutes later, you're torn between vomiting on the floor out of disgust and hitting her hard. Scarlett made her way over maybe half an hour ago, but it might as well have been five hours for you. She's currently sitting on Jack's lap, cooing in his ear and giggling at everything Jack tells her, occasionally touching his neck.

You feel like grabbing her frizzy red hair and pulling her down from him, dragging her out and kicking her in the arse for good measure. Yes. You admitted it to yourself some minutes ago, albeit grudgingly. You're jealous. Boy, Anamaria would have fun if she knew. Oh, who are you kidding, she probably does. Glancing at the mulatto woman sitting beside you who's become one of your best friends, you see that she too glaring at Scarlett in distaste. And she's making no effort in hiding her reaction. The observation makes you feel marginally better, and you smile ever so slightly, taking a gulp from you’re your tankard as you tear your eyes from Jack and the harpy on his lap.

Will and Elizabeth are again immersed in their own little world, though you caught Lizzie earlier sending disapproving glances towards Jack and Scarlett. You're surprised to find Norrington, somewhat sobered Murtogg and Mullroy plus Gibbs talking about something.

Anamaria suddenly grabs your forearm that's resting on your lap under the table, squeezing it a bit. You can't quite decipher the meaning of the gesture, and puzzled, you glance at her. Anamaria's face is stoic; her dark eyes look angry as they're directed towards Jack. Following her gaze, your eyes widen slightly at the sight.

Jack and Scarlett are kissing. And it's not just a friendly peck, but rather a full-blown, passionate lip lock. Now you understand Anamaria's gesture; but is it meant to support you or hold you down so you won't get up and attack the red-clad hussy? Your eyes narrow, and your nails bite into the surface of the tankard your squeezing tightly in your hand. And just hours ago Jack was about to bestow that same action upon you. Sure, Jack is drunk now, but the thought still makes you angry and hurt, even though you have no idea why. Suddenly your throat tightens painfully and you feel sickened by the scene displayed before you.

Finally they break the kiss, and Scarlett whispers something in Jack ear. Jack grins, and Scarlett reluctantly gets up, as does Jack. "Well, as lovely evening as this has been, my gentle…" Jack pauses as he takes in you, Anamaria and Elizabeth, "…persons, I'm afraid I must retire for the night," he finishes, turn on his heels, wrapping one arm around Scarlett and starting to guide her away. Before turning away from the table, Scarlett throws you a victorious smirk. Oh, now you really feel like smacking it right off her powdered white face.

Retire, my arse! "Be careful and don't pull anything!" you shout after Jack, sarcasm in your tone. Jack throws you an exasperated glance behind his shoulder. Soon, they've disappeared in the crowd, and you know they're heading upstairs where the rooms for rent are located. Your group also had rooms reserved upstairs. You know exactly what they're going to go doing, and a wave of nausea sweeps though you at the thought. The smoky, noisy tavern suddenly seems suffocating, and you crave for some fresh air.

You turn towards Anamaria, telling her you're going out for a while and would be back soon.

Anamaria frowns, worry shining in her eyes. "Are you sure you'll be alright?"

"Ana, I'll be just peachy," you assure with small smile that feels forced. "Really."

She nods, but still seems unconvinced. "Okay, if you say so. But come back here soon, alright? I'll wait for you."

This time your smile is genuine, and you're glad to have such great a friend like Anamaria. "Okay. Thanks."

Anamaria smiles back and nods, and you get up from the bench, making your way towards the entrance through the crowd of drunken men and women. Navigating through the people, you glare fiercely at the leering men who occasionally try to grab you. You must as angry as you feel, because all of the men quickly pull back their hands and look elsewhere. Finally reaching the outdoor, you walk out and step on the sandy streets of Tortuga once again, trekking through the narrow alley next to the tavern and dodging around the people wandering about the roads, kicking pebbles and small stones as you go.

Millions of stars are glittering brightly on the velvety blue sky above, but you have no time to focus on the beauty of them at the moment. Slight breeze blows from the sea stretching out in the horizon, not too far away. It caresses your face and calms you down, like it always does. But still, the uncomfortable, pressing feeling inside you won't disappear. Determinately you continue your journey towards the docks, your quick strides bringing you closer and closer each second. Luckily the Faithful Bride was not too far away from the docks.

After what seems like ages, you reach the outskirts of the docks, glancing around. You start wandering along the sides, walking towards the eastern side of the docks where there aren't so much traffic and people bustling about their vessels. It fairly dark there, only some few fires lit along the main docks. Finally, you come across a small platform stretching out over the shore waters that looks like people might use to fish atop of it; it's not very long. Slowly you stroll down it, making sure it holds your weight. It does, and you sit in the end of it with a sigh, letting your feet dangle over the side. There are two long, thick poles on the both sides of the little platform, and you lean your side on the one on your right side. It was a beautiful night; the moon was full and white, casting a pale glow down the ground. It also painted a bridge across the waters, the silvery beam rippling ever so slightly as the sea still stirred a bit, refusing to keep completely motionless.

You sigh again, your thoughts wandering back to Jack. Why were you feeling all this crap that made you feel so fickle? You'd never felt this myriad of emotions before, and were totally at loss of how to handle it. And you hated it. You hated that these feelings made you feel strange and erratic, hated being suddenly transformed into a blubbering female. But you couldn't hate the cause of all this. You couldn't hate Jack even if you tried.

You never had a mother of anyone female to look up to during your years of growing up, and were confused. Once again in your life, you wish you would have known your own mother. You'd give anything for a change to talk to her now.

"I wish I could speak to you…" you whisper your thought out loud, as a cool breeze blows again and ruffles your hair ever so slightly. A sudden feeling of warmth envelops you, a funny sensation going down your spine. You frown, and whip your head around to glance behind you. There's nobody there. Odd, you could've swear you felt someone's presence there for a moment…

You shake your head and return your gaze in the horizon. You can see the shape of the Black Pearl looking ahead, bathing in the moonlight. You never quite realized how menacing the ship actually looks in the dark. Gazing at the ship makes you think about her Captain again, and you let out a frustrated huff. Why can't you stop thinking about him?

Because… you start, pondering your question. Because he's the most extraordinary person you've ever met in your entire life. Because he saved your life.

The last thought hits you, hard, and you curl your arm around the pole you were leaning on. But no matter how you twist or turn that thought, it remains a fact. He did save your life, whether he or even you realize that. After you're father died, you were a mess. Everything you had was taken away from you in one instant, and you were left with nothing. Somehow you survived those three years before meeting Jack, probably out of stubbornness. You were just too damn stubborn to give up and stop trying. But granted, those three years were not your finest ones. You did all kinds of odd jobs to make a living, mostly ones that were dishonest. Mostly ones you wished to forget. You never degraded yourself into whoring; you'd rather starve before doing that. But still, those years were full of pain and hurting, and you suppose you actually were slowly dying inside. You had nobody, since you'd lost touch with old Shadrach who was the only one left alive from your father's crew, since he was with you on that town when the White Wraith was destroyed.

Then, out of pure coincidence, you were thrown in a cell in Port Royal and given a cellmate that would change your life. And today… the Pearl had become your new home, and you had made contact with you cousin. You had wonderful friends, and the crew was almost like a family. Today you were alive again. You don't even dare to think what would've become of you had you not met Jack.

So, how come someone who's made you so happy again suddenly makes you feel so bad? You bite your lower lip, as the question you dread bubbles beneath the surface…

"What does falling in love feel like?" you whisper to yourself, almost inaudibly. Again, you hope so badly you could ask that question from your mother. She would know the answer.

Could this be... the L-word? How would you know, you've never been in love before! Oh Gods, had you honestly done something so stupid and fallen in love with you best friend and Captain?

"That would be so incredibly stupid," you mumble, shaking your head. You're attracted to him, for sure. What woman in her right mind wouldn't, he's got physical characteristics to die for! But Jack Sparrow is not one to fall in love, or to settle down with one woman. Like that little scene with that tart Scarlett just proved. The thought of Jack with Scarlett made you angry, and you pushed that thought out of your mind.

You sigh again, closing your eyes. Your head was starting to hurt again.

An odd, pitiful whimper suddenly breaks the silence and you cock your head, opening your eyes. You keep still and listen, but hear nothing. You relax and shrug; maybe you imagined the sound. The same moment, the whimper rings though the quietness again, this time a bit louder and longer. Now you know you didn't imagine it! You spring up and start walking away from the platform, stepping on the sandy shore and stopping to listen. It sounds like some animal, maybe a dog or something. Having a soft spot for animals, you feel obliged to see for yourself what's causing the entire racket. You hear more whining and whimpering, and follow the sound towards the lush forest that's starting only some feet away from the platform you were sitting on.

Finally, you spot a dark form half-hidden with some bushes, and squint in the darkness to make out the animal. As your eyes adjust to more complete dimness, you see out that it indeed is a small dog with lighter and darker patches in its fur, whimpering and trashing around. As you look closer, you see that it has something around its hind legs, rendering the dog almost unable to move. It seems like some kind of cord. The sight breaks your heart, and you instantly feel the need to help the puppy.

"Hey, little fella," you say in reassuring voice, trying to calm the animal down as you slowly crouch next to the struggling dog. The dog whimpers again, trying to scramble away from you, but the cord around its legs makes movement impossible.

"Shh, shh, it's okay, I'm just going to help you, nothing to be afraid of," you murmur, calmly reaching out and stroking the pup's head carefully. The dog seems to be calming down a bit and allows you to pet it. You take a look at the cord again, and see that it's actually fishing line. Slowly, you sit down on the ground, next to the pup, and pull your knife from your boot.

"Now, let's see if we can get that thing off your legs," you speak in calming tone. "You need to be still for this, okay? It won't hurt…" the dog looks miserable; it's being totally still, both ears pressed against its skull and a look of resignation in its round, dark eyes.

Carefully, you hold down the dog with one hand and cut the fishing line into pieces, slowly unravelling the thing around the skinny, furry legs. You figure the dog cannot be very old yet. It's probably a stray by the looks of it. Finally, you throw off the last piece of the line, hoping it hasn't cut the dog's legs. Letting go of the dog, you sheath you knife and look back at the pup, expecting it to spring off from you.

Much to you surprise, the puppy gets up but doesn't run away. Instead, it trudges closer to you, sniffing you hand. You smile, showing your palm to the dog and letting it sniff. "You're pretty peculiar looking thing, aren't you?" you smirk.

You eyes have gotten used to the dark, and not you make out the dog; there seems to be black, brown and white mixed up in the fur of the animal. It has rather big ears, seemingly too big for its head, and another one of them is drooping halfway down while the other sticks up completely. It has curious dark eyes, and big paws. Again, seemingly too big to go with the skinny legs. Its tail is slim and black, but the tip is white. It looks like someone has dipped it in white paint bucket. The fur is pretty long for a pup, about an inch. It looks like some sort of Shepard race, but you can't be sure; it's quite small. Actually, very small.

The pup suddenly jumps on your lap, barking in high-pitched puppy voice. It slants its huge front paws on your chest and tries to lick your face, but you pull your head away. "Okay, okay! I know you're happy!" You grab the dog carefully under its armpits and lift it up slightly, peering underneath. "So, you're a boy, then. Maybe I should think up a name for you, what do you say?"

The pup cocks his head, the drooping ear flopping up like the other one, and you smile. "Lucky," you decide with a nod. "Not very imaginative, but I'd say you're pretty lucky I came along and got rid of the fishing line. Besides, Mr. Gibbs will probably like that name."

It was decided. You would give Lucky a home; the little pup had conquered your heart instantly. You weren't going to leave him in this wretched town alone. Jack wasn't going to be very pleased, he just about tolerated Parrot, but... you didn't have to tell him about Lucky right away, now did you?

"Okay, Lucky," you say, hoisting the small pup with huge paws up and holding it to your chest, you got up and stood. "We're going to get you something to eat. And you could use a bath, too. You stink, boy."

The pup just wags his tail, thumping it against your side.

* * * * *

You made your way out of the docks, walking along the torch-lit streets with the dog in your arms. Luckily you shared a room with Anamaria; she'd understand, you were sure. The pup was actually heavier than he looked, and you had to stop for a moment.

"Damn, how do you weight so much? You must have thick bones or something, there's not much in you," you muse aloud and look down at the dog who's pink tongue is hanging out comically.

Just as you were about to continue your way, a frighteningly familiar voice suddenly speaks up behind you.

"'Ell, 'ell, lookie what that we gots 'ere… me own dish-washin' pirate!"

You tense. You hadn't seen wrong the in Bride, after all. You plaster a smile to your face before turning around to face the owner of the weird accent you have hoped never to hear again. "Hello, Otis…"

* * * * *

CHAPTER 14 – Nocturnal Thoughts

"Hello, Otis..."

Lucky picks up on your tension, and growls quietly at the man in front of you who was obviously the cause of your uneasiness. You smile inwardly at the pup's apparent protectiveness, but shush him quietly, holding the dog a bit more firmly in your arms. Lucky falls quiet, but fixes his sharp gaze firmly on Otis.

You eye the short man in front of you warily. He hadn't changed at all since the last time you saw him over a year ago. Well, Otis had obviously gained some more weight but otherwise he looked just as ugly as the last time around. He had sparse, greasy hair that stuck onto his skull, his pasty face was sweaty, and his colourless eyes were bulging out slightly, only adding into his rather misshapen form.

The last time you saw him was in his shabby tavern on the other side of Tortuga, about a year ago. You were actually working for the fat bastard, washing dishes in the kitchen of the tavern. That had been one of your most humiliating weeks in your entire life, but you had no choice at the time. One night you'd had enough of scrubbing the dirty plates and pots, and broken into Otis' safe that he kept behind an awful painting in his room on the second floor of the tavern. You'd stolen all his money and fled the tavern, heading to the docks and hitching a ride out of town. You went to Port Royal where you were going to get in touch with your cousin you hadn't seen in years, Elizabeth Swann. But the redcoats caught you after witnessing the scene of Jack Sparrow rescuing Elizabeth from drowning. They threw you in a same cell with Jack, and this is how you got tangled with the daring rescue plan.

You hadn't seen Otis ever since that day, but you were sure he was one to hold grudges. He was probably still very pissed at you for stealing from him.

"Hav'n't seen ya in a whoile, girly," Otis grumbles with that thick, incomprehensible accent that you had started to somewhat understand only after a few days of working for him a year back. You hated it, and had honestly hoped that you'd never have to listen to it again.

Masking your hesitant wariness, you flash him a quick smile, shrugging slightly. "Well, I've been quite busy these days. I haven't really had too much time to stop by for a visit."

Otis scoffs, his features twisting very unattractively. "Is tha' so? I r'memb'r ya last visit…"

"Yes, about that…" you start slowly, watching his reaction. "C'mon Otis, that was such a long time ago! Surely you're not mad at me anymore, are you? I had no choice but to do it, honestly."

Otis sneers, showing uneven rows of disgusting, decayed teeth. You're sure he's about to grab you by your throat with his meaty hands, and you're prepared to jump back and make a run for it. You weren't about to risk a fight with Lucky in your arms.

Suddenly, Otis starts to laugh. Loud, bellowing laugh that makes his huge stomach shake in time with the guffaws. You're surprised and incredulous; did the old gaffer go totally insane?

"Ya'r really sumthin'," Otis chortles, having recovered from his laughing fit. "Thar arrn't many who dare to steal frem me!"

Still uncertain, you just laugh slightly with him, wondering where this is going. Otis smiles amiably, or something resembling that, and shakes his head. "Naw, I forgave ya long time ago," he says finally.

You quirk your brow, feeling suspicious. "Did you, now…?"

"Aye," Otis assures, nodding. "Now, I dun loik stealin'. But I loik ya; ya've sum spunk in ya. So, I forgave ya this one time."

You lower your chin a bit, narrowing your eyes at the short, fat man and wonder if he's telling you the truth. Frankly, you couldn't care less for his reasoning, but you want to be sure he won't bother you anymore. "So, it's all in the past, then?"

"Fer 'ertain!" Otis says with a smile. "It's all forgo'en. Say, ya want ta have a pint? I'll buy ya one."

Yeah, right! Otis' offer makes you even more cautious. Something was off in this situation; you find it hard to believe Otis was willing to just forgive and forget so easily. Sure, it had been a year already, but still… you weren't about to turn your back to the man, much less take him up on the offer. Who knows what poison he'd spike your drink with?

You give Otis a charming smile. "As much as I'd love to, I'm afraid I can't. My friend is expecting me," you reply suavely, adding a slight apologetic edge in your tone. Well, it wasn't exactly a lie, Anamaria had told you she'd be waiting for you in the Bride.

"Tha's a shame. Mebbe sum o'her time 'hen, eh?" Otis mumbles thickly with a sickeningly friendly smile, and you nod in agreement.

"But of course," you smile widely. Yeah, that's just as probable as you being crowned the queen of Spain; it was never going to happen.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I really have to go. Have a very pleasant night and Gods bless you," you finish quickly with a tad bit of sarcasm and turn around before Otis can say anything, striding off as hurriedly as you can without seeming in a hurry to get away from him.

If you had glanced behind your shoulder just before disappearing behind the corner of some building, you would have seen how Otis' face distorts angrily and the smile slips off of his sweaty face as his friendly façade vanishes, his eyes narrowing in hatred as he stares after your retreating back.

* * * * *

You make your way along the dark streets of Tortuga that are none less busy now than when you initially arrived in the town. The puppy in your arms starts to fuss and wriggle slightly, wanting to be let down. You hush the dog, talking to him a bit and calming him down. You could already see the Bride's entrance on the other side of the square-like area you'd just stepped on to. Quickly striding pass the square, you circle a bunch of men immersed in punching each other for no apparent reason, but everyone on Tortuga had some reason to fight. Mostly.

You step inside the Faithful Bride, keeping an eye on the bar and the barmaids. They probably wont approve you bringing Lucky inside, but that was really too bad right now. You walk determinately towards the table your party had occupied a while ago, finding only Anamaria and Gibbs sitting there anymore. You frown, wondering where everyone else had gone. Well, you knew where Jack had gone. You push the thought away from your mind and keep up your quick strides.

"Hello," you greet them airily as you stop next to the table, getting their attention.

"There you are, I was starting to worry," Anamaria says, and then fixes her eyes on Lucky. "What's that?"

"Mister Gibbs, Anamaria, I'd like to introduce you Lucky," you beam, cradling the pup in your arms slightly.

"Lucky?" Gibbs raises one eyebrow, looking dubious.

"Aye," you smile. "I saved him from the evil fishing line that was tangled around his hind legs. And I've decided to keep him."

"Is that supposed to be a dog? It looks funny." Anamaria comments, but a small smile is playing on her lips as she gazes at the pup.

"I dunno 'bout that, lass," Gibbs says hesitantly. "The Captain probably won't approve…"

You scowl. "Well, the Captain can disapprove all he likes, but I'm keeping Lucky. Besides, if he's allowed to have his bitch, why shouldn't I be allowed to have a puppy?" you ask with a devious smirk that evokes a snort of laughter from Ana. That was a rather mean comment, you realize that, but the matter with Jack and Scarlett was still stinging you.

Gibbs manages to curb his own grin, trying to preserve some amount of respect towards Jack. "Well do as ye like. It be your hide on the line when Jack finds out. Again."

You shrug. "Been there, done that. I think I can handle some more deck swabbing."

Gibbs chuckles. "I hope the creature be worth his name, then. I'll be off now. I'll see ye in the morning," he says, getting up and bidding good night, sauntering out of the tavern.

"Where's he going to sleep?" you ask, puzzled.

"Said something about bunking in his old place," Anamaria replies with a shrug, downing the last of her pint.

"Oh," you nod, remembering Gibbs' place.

You, Jack and Will had bunked there a year ago when you'd arrived on Tortuga. You'd gotten into a physical confrontation with Francesca Vega, an old antagonist of yours. She'd managed to puncture a hole on your side with her dagger in the tavern before leading you outside, and Jack had cleaned the cut later at Gibbs' place when you'd gotten rid of Frannie. It had been quite nice, actually. Not getting stabbed, but spending a little quiet time with Jack. Gibbs had went to sleep and Will was lying on the spare bed, having passed out in the Bride earlier. Then you and Jack had to share the same bed, in which Jack had no objections. In the morning, you'd woken up to find yourself being cuddled by Jack. Well, one thing led to another, and that had been the first time Jack had tried to kiss you. Will had interrupted that moment by starting to wake up and whining about his headache.

There has to be some sort of odd power in works that interferes every time Jack tries to kiss you. The only time you haven't been interrupted was the kiss after jumping off the battlement in Port Royal after Jack's near hanging. Which was definitely worth the wait, however…

Shaking Jack out of your mind, you collect your wits and ask Anamaria about the rest of the party.

"The Commodore and his cronies went back to the Dauntless, and Will and Elizabeth retired to their room. The third room is for you and me," Anamaria tells you. "And apparently to that," she adds, nodding towards Lucky.

"He," you correct, and Anamaria rolls her eyes.

"Let's go, okay? It's late already and I'm tired," Anamaria mutters.

"I'll have to make a quick detour around the kitchen, I'll meet you in the room," you say before she leaves.

"Fine. Room eight," Anamaria replies and starts to head towards the stirs that lead upstairs where the rooms are located, whereas you head towards the kitchen in hopes for some leftovers for Lucky.

* * * * *

Captain Jack Sparrow of the infamous Black Pearl was not in particularly joyous mood. In fact, the closest thing to describe his current state of mind was frustrated, with a dash of humiliation and regret added in the mix for a good measure. He'd been feeling frustrated a lot lately, and in more ways than one.

Lying alone on his back on the lumpy mattress of the bed in his room, clad only in his breeches and bandanna, Jack scoffed to himself in annoyance and tightened his hold on the neck of his precious bottle of rum. With a grunt, he propped himself up so that his upper back was leaning against the headboard of the bed and took a hearty swig from the bottle, welcoming the slight burning sensation and the pleasant warmth that spread though his body. He was already inebriated enough, he knew this, and it would take long before he was done for it for the night. That was exactly what Jack wanted right now; he just wanted to stop thinking for a moment and numb his mind. Ignorance might have been bliss, but to Jack, unconsciousness seemed like heaven.

He closed his eyes, and after a moment, gazed blearily down the bottle he was clutching in his hand, his mind wandering; mainly to the woman who'd been haunting his dreams for a while already, who also happened to be his best friend. Damn it, Jack thought, squeezing his eyes shut as if in pain. He wasn't supposed to think about her! If he absolutely had to think at all in the first place, then he should stick to safe topics, like… the Pearl. The exquisite Black Pearl, his pride and joy… the smooth wood of the rudder, the sleek lines of her hull…

It didn't help at all. His thoughts kept turning into something and someone a lot different at those flattering adjectives. Damn it! Jack took another gulp of rum, savouring the taste and the pleasing buzz of drunkenness reverberating inside his head. It was effectively making him forget the humiliation that occurred only some odd moments ago with Scarlett. Why did he even go off with her in the first place? It was simple, really. He was a man and he had needs. When they'd all sat down in the bar earlier, Jack couldn't help but to steal quick glances at the woman sitting across of him as she was immersed in a conversation with Anamaria. He didn't fail to notice how stunning she looked in the candlelight, and his mind wandered back to the near kiss they'd had in the afternoon. All his frustrations and suppressed thoughts came crashing back to him, and he knew he had to do something to… vent his frustrations before he did something he might regret later on.

It had all started just fine; they'd stumbled in the room, engaged in a kiss, copping a little feel here and there and shedding clothing. Scarlett had shoved him onto the bed after ridding him of his shirt and straddled him, attacking his neck like a bloody vampire. Everything was fine, until Jack's alcohol-hazed mind started tricking him viciously.

Instead of Scarlett's coarse, red hair Jack saw soft, beautifully coloured tresses, the waist his hands were resting on was not skinny but perfectly defined and curving gently under his palms, her skin not sickly pale but tanned lightly by the sun. It weren't Scarlett's thin lips on his neck, but ones that were full and needed no added colour, ones he came only seconds away from kissing earlier the afternoon.

And it wasn't Scarlett's name he'd moaned out loud.

The breathtaking illusion was shattered in a blink of an eye as they both froze for a second, before Scarlett shrieked in outrage and sprung upright, glaring fiercely down at him. Jack had stared back up, wondering how come he'd never quite realized before how Scarlett resembled something alike a wicked witch from all those ridiculous tales that were used to scare kids...

"Did you just call out her name?!" Scarlett demanded angrily in high-pitched voice that had grated nastily on Jack's eardrums.

Jack had opened his mouth to offer some glib explanation to salvage the situation, but Scarlett's palm was quicker and she gave him a stinging slap on his cheek before getting up from him, straightening her skirts and storming out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her so violently Jack had been almost certain the entire damn thing would fall off its hinges. Luckily it had prevailed.

Jack groaned at the memory and slapped his free hand over his eyes. Nothing like that had ever happened to him before. How. Bloody. Humiliating. Jack again lifted his arm and took a swig from the bottle, one step closer to momentarily oblivion. What the hell was the matter with him, anyway? It's not like she was the first beautiful woman he'd come across. She was his friend, she was to be respected and not… lusted after like he was some hormonal teenager with one-track mind. Alright, so sometimes, maybe, his mind did take that one track, but that was besides the point. The point was, that he was Captain Jack Sparrow, and he didn't get tied down. He was a free spirit, a wanderer who loved every damn woman in the Caribbean! Except Anamaria, the fractional part of his mind that was still somewhat lucid pointed out. And Elizabeth. The whelp can have her all to himself; frankly she was no great loss.

But back to the point, there was still more for him to do and ever more to see. And many, many women for him to woo. Like his father had always used to say when Jack was but a lad; Women are amazing creatures, but never fall in love with one, boy. Love them, but don't fall in love.

Jack had always asked his father the reason for this, didn't he love ma? Joshua had just smiled down at his son, and answered enigmatically; you'll understand when you get older, boy. Jack had just nodded, bewildered, and hadn't asked again. But the words had stuck in his mind for good.

Jack felt tired, and took another swig on the bottle that was rapidly emptying. The desired result of his drinking wasn't far away, and with an effort, Jack managed to sit up and place the nearly empty bottle on the bedside table and rid himself of his pants, tossing them on the floor unceremoniously. Crawling under the sheets, Jack grabbed the bottle again and flopped himself on his back again.

"Shoulda listened to yer old man. Face it, Jackie ol' boy," Jack slurred to himself, heaving a small sigh, "Yer in trouble…"

Gulping down the rest of the rum, Jack swallowed the amber liquor and let his arm drop, dangling it over the side of the bed. Closing his eyes and exhaling heavily, Jack felt himself slipping into the blessed unconsciousness as his fingers loosened around the bottle, and it dropped on the floor with a small thud.

* * * * *

"There you go," you tell Lucky and stop scrubbing him dry with the towel as you crouch in a kneeling position in front of the freshly washed dog. At least the puppy was now clean and did not stink anymore. Lucky sits funnily; his weight is on his butt, and not on his hind legs like most dogs. Instead, his hind legs are spread to the sides, and his huge, wide paws are slanted firmly on the floor. They seemed to be a mismatch with the rest of the pup's body, just like the big ears that were currently flattened against his skull. He slouches slightly as he sits there in front of you with his hand bowed slightly, looking at you under his brows, clearly signalling that he didn't quite enjoy the bath experience. Lucky's fur is still damp and sticking up in all directions. You can't help but to smile broadly at the pup's dejected look.

"Aw, don't look at me like that," you tell the pup, who doesn't move a muscle. You raise your brow. "Since you were such a good boy, maybe you'd like some food now?"

The pup blinks at your word, lifting his head up high and raising his ears, even though the left ear refused to be lifted and drooped down from the halfway. You grin, "Yes, food! I bet Lucky's hungry aren't you?" you coo, and the pup springs up, standing on all four legs and impatiently lifting his front paws up and down repeatedly, creating a soft pattering sound.

You get up, amused at the pup's eagerness and fetch the plate with some sort of meat stew on it, setting in on the floor. Lucky attacks the stew ravenously, munching down the food. You sit on your bed and watch the pup eat; he probably hasn't had any in a while. After you'd left Anamaria and went into the kitchen, you'd asked the first person, an older, rather plump woman if perhaps they had some leftovers around to be thrown away. The woman had been delighted at the sight of the pup in your arms, and gladly gave you a plate full on old stew. The woman had noticed how dirty Lucky was, and offered you to use an old, large basin that had earlier been used to wash dishes. You'd thankfully accepted, an the older lady had helped you wash the pup and wrapped the disgruntled dog in a towel, handing him back to you so you could go dry him in your room. You would given her few shillings for her help, but she refused to take them, saying she didn't need any; she loved dogs and had had many herself when she was younger.

Lucky finished eating, licking and smacking his black lips with his tongue, and padding over to you, small tail wagging gratefully. You smile and bend down a little, scratching the pup behind his large ears. "That's a good boy, that's such a good boy," you coo with a smile and the tail keeps on wagging.

"For God's sake, stop that!" Anamaria finally snaps from her own bed on the other side of the room. She has been lying down for a while now, trying to get some sleep. "It's a dog, not a child!"

You sniff indignantly, not having really even noticed that you cooed to the pup. "It is too! It's my little furry child," you grin, throwing a look at Ana behind your shoulder.

She rolls her eyes and shakes her head, clearly thinking you're insane. You smile to yourself and remove your boots, dropping them on the floor next to the bed. You also remove the small strap of leather you've been using to keep your hair in a loose ponytail, deciding to have a little variation to the grey bandanna you usually wear. Slipping under the covers, you get comfortable and pat the bed, looking at Lucky. "Lucky, jump," you say, wondering if the dog understands your intention.

Obviously, since the pup jumps up and lands next to you, slumping down and curling into a ball, his back pressed against your stomach. With a heavy sigh, the dog rests his jaw on the mattress. You smile, touched by the little dogs trust in you, and lean over the bedside table to blow out the candle. The room is engulfed in darkness, the only light coming out of the torches lit outside, their flickering light pouring in the dirty window.

You yawn quietly, only now realizing how tired you are. You lay your head against the pillow. "Night, Anamaria."

"G'night," Anamaria mumbles back sleepily.

You close your eyes and lightly stroke Lucky's neck as the fatigue washes over you, and you fall asleep in moments.

* * * * *

Otis was more nervous than he'd ever been before as he entered his tavern on the west side of Tortuga. The tavern was old and shabby, and Otis' prices were way more expensive than they should have been. Nobody in his or her right mind wanted to go there, and that's why the bar was mainly littered with the scum of Tortuga; and that was saying a lot. Few days ago, he had gotten and unexpected guest, one that Otis had hoped he'd never seen ever again. He'd made the deal with the Captain out of greed, and was repaying that mistake now. It had seemed like a good deal; he'd just keep his ears and eyes open, and that was it. Nobody told him he'd probably pay with his life if the result weren't pleasing his guest.

Cold sweat was pouring down Otis' forehead and trickling down his back as he slowly made his way thought the dirty kitchen and up the badly creaking stairs to the second floor. His office, as he so liked to call it, was located there, but there were also some guest rooms that weren't in use, thought. Nobody wanted to stay over the night here or pay the outrageous fee Otis was asking for. So he had stopped offering them for rent. But now, the biggest room at the end of the long hallway was occupied. Gulping, Otis inhaled deeply and walked up to the door, wiping sweat from his clammy forehead before knocking heavily on the wooden door. It was time for the daily report.

After few, excruciatingly long minutes, the door was opened. Otis could only stare at the striking woman standing in front of him; she was tall, very tall, her black hair was slightly wavy as it cascaded freely down her shoulders and chest, the ends of the strands almost reaching her navel. The piercing grey eyes stared unblinkingly down at him, and Otis felt uneasy; something in those eyes made one feel like they could see thought you and be aware of your each thought. But her eyes weren't what shocked Otis. It was her attire, or the lack of one. She was dressed only in a simple white, long sleeved shirt that reached her only barely to mid thigh, revealing her long, slim legs. It was buttoned up, save for the few topmost buttons that were left open, exposing some cleavage.

"The, the… r-report," Otis stuttered, seemingly unable to think straight.

The woman stared down at the man stoically, slightly annoyed to be interrupted. Then, a slow, almost feral smile curved her lips upwards. Otis felt even more nervous seeing the woman smile; it was even more unnerving than the emotionless, hard stare.

"But of course. Do come in, Mister Otis," Gabriela Delgado, Captain of Espirítu Maldito, purred in a low, accented voice, pushing the door fully open and stepping aside gracefully, allowing Otis in.

"T-thank ya," Otis muttered humbly, bowing his head a little to avoid Delgado's all-seeing eyes and quickly walked in, hearing the door being shut behind him.

Letting his eyes travel across the room, Otis flinched as his gaze spotted a man lying on the bed. He was naked, lying on his back. And dead as a stone, purple bruising around his neck standing out visibly from the otherwise pale skin. Otis' heartbeat sped up as his own hand instinctively flew to his own, non-crunched throat. All his instincts screamed him to run and never look back, but he couldn't seem to move.

Gabriela had watched the man's reaction curiously, and grinned slyly as the stocky man took his hand over his throat. This piteous little man reeked of fear, which filled Gabriela with immense feeling of satisfaction. Slinking quietly with a feline-like stealth, Gabriela stopped behind Otis' back, lowering her head so she could whisper huskily in his ear. "He liked it rough."

Otis jumped in fright, and for a clumsy person, sprang some good feet onward at Gabriela's voice next to his ear, his heart nearly thumping out of his chest. He hadn't even heard her moving. Gabriela stayed where she was, grinning broadly at the man's reaction. Then she glanced towards the dead man in the bed, unperturbed. Making a small humming noise from her throat, Gabriela looked back at Otis. "Unfortunately for him, I like it rough as well," she chuckled slightly and smirked.

Otis felt nauseous, and he was breathing heavily. He wished more than anything is meeting would be over soon. As if reading his thoughts, Gabriela took a few languid steps forward, placing one foot in front of another with careful precision, never taking her smoky eyes off of Otis. She curled her right hand into a fist, holding it in front of her, and then placed her left palm loosely over the balled fist. Otis watched the meticulous movements with growing trepidation, not knowing what to except.

Finally, Gabriela smiled ever so slightly and spoke. "Have you ever heard the sound of a windpipe being crushed?"

Otis' eyes widened. That had probably been the poor bastard's fate that was lying on the bed. "N-naw," he managed to choke out.

Gabriela hummed quietly in thought. "It's something like this," she said, and pushed down on the fingers of her fist with her left hand, a sickening crunching resounding through the otherwise silent room as her knuckles cracked loudly. Otis drew in a breath; the sound made him feel even more sickened.

Gabriela didn't seem to mind Otis' uncomfortable posture. She pursed her lips thoughtfully as she considered the sound. "Well, maybe not quite that sharp," she finally said, throwing a look at Otis and smirked.

Otis swallowed nervously again, too shaken up to even try to speak. Gabriela scrutinized him for a moment with narrowed eyes, eyeing him from head to toe. Disgusting. That was that this snivelling fool in front of her was. He was nothing but a waste of space and air, like so many male in the world tended to be. She should do the world a favour and let him hear his own windpipe being crushed. The morbid thought brought a vicious grin on her lips, and Gabriela noticed that the puny man was again cowering. Pathetic. Best get this over with so she wouldn't have to stand that lousy creature in her sight any longer.

"The report," Gabriela demanded. "Has there been any news I should be aware of?"

Otis took a deep breath, attempting to calm himself down. Gabriela watched him struggle, growing annoyed. Her face became angry and her eyes flamed. "Speak up, you puny worm!" she shouted, and Otis jumped again at her commanding tone.

"Naw, the'e's been nothin'!" Otis blurted out, and fearing for his life, added quickly in despair, "But I saw somethin' tha' could in'erest ya."

Gabriela scowled. "I doubt it. What might that be?"

"Jack Sparra's in town," Otis hastily said. "Wit' his crrrew an' sum 'ancy navy men."

"Jack Sparrow? Navy men?" Gabriela repeated with a raised brow. Alright, this might interest her after all. "Tell me everything. And don't you leave a single thing out or you'll regret it."

Otis paled even more, and proceeded to tell Gabriela everything he'd seen and heard in the Faithful Bride, about the Commodore, Will and Elizabeth, and you, as well as the bit of Jack asking about Lucas Fowler from the barkeep. Gabriela listened intently, staring fixedly at Otis as he stammered his story. After some time, he was finished, and Gabriela thought about the man's tale over in her head.

She nodded her head curtly. "Bueno. You can go now, but I'll have use for you tomorrow. And take care of that," Gabriela said in a tone that brook no arguments, pointing her finger fleetingly towards the corpse on the bed. "I want it out of here during the next ten minutes." (Good.)

Otis made a shocked gurgling sound, but nodded his acquiescence anyway. Then he fled the room incredibly fast for such clumsy, fat man. Gabriela scowled after him, before turning around and walking slowly over the window that overlooked to the sea. Staring out in the horizon, Gabriela crossed her arms over her chest and got lost in her thoughts.

Jack Sparrow… well, Captain Jack Sparrow, nowadays. Now there was a name she hadn't heard in years, much less seen the man in person. How long had it been since they crossed paths in Puerto Rico? Ten years? Probably something like that. She hadn't been a Captain then, but that idiot Luis Perez, the ex-Captain of the galleon. Well, she had taken care of him soon after they had departured Puerto Rico. That had been the first time she'd broken anyone's windpipe, actually. Ah, the feeling of nostalgia…

At any case, Sparrow had been a victim of a mutiny when she'd met him. Though it had been a year ago, Sparrow was still bitter over the incident, and why wouldn't he have been? The man had intrigued Gabriela, and she'd watched him, drowning his sorrows over the loss of his ship and captaincy in alcohol he kept ordering. She had hated men even then, but something about Jack Sparrow was different. She'd never quite run into anyone alike him before. Gabriela had been hatching her plan to commit her own mutiny against Captain Perez of Espirítu Maldito back then, and had simply wonderful idea.

She and Sparrow could join forces; she would take care of Perez and be the Captain of the Maldito, and together they'd get the Black Pearl back from Barbossa. They'd have the makings of their very own fleet right there, and then nobody would stop them. Gabriela had told Jack this, and was absolutely certain the man would accept; he would have to be a fool not to! Well, it turned out the next day Sparrow had no intentions of joining forces with her, and disappeared without a trace, leaving a very livid Gabriela behind.

And now, there they were, both in Tortuga after all these years. But that did Sparrow want from Fowler? That name made Gabriela's very blood boil. The Fowler's were nothing but filthy thieves! Gabriela remembered clearly every tale her now deceased grandfather, Jose Delgado, had ever told her about the Fowler's who betrayed the Delgado's. As a Delgado, she was the only one with rights to the map of the Abyss! And if any of the Fowler's would try to intervene, well… she'd just have to teach them some manners.

Gabriela calmed herself down. She'd just have to be patient; like a snake lying in wait of a prey, and strike at the correct moment. She'd been patient for many years already, a few more days couldn't hurt.

What surprised Gabriela was the Commodore's presence. She thought the Commodore had drowned along with his crew after she had destroyed his ship. What was he doing away from Port Royal, and with Sparrow, of all people? Gabriela cursed out loud in Spanish as she remembered the things she had told the Commodore about the map. Luckily it hadn't been much. He wouldn't be here in search of her, would he? Very interesting indeed…

And what about the young couple, Elizabeth Swann and William Turner? And what of the other young woman who was a close friend with Sparrow, if Otis was to be trusted. The name sounded somewhat familiar… Byrne… Gabriela made mental a note to herself to remember the woman; she could possibly be useful yet. The last name kept bothering Gabriela. If only she could remember who else was named Byrne. Well, it would probably come back to her soon.

Finally, her thoughts returned back to the (even Gabriela had to admit) very handsome Captain Sparrow. She wondered if he was still as eye-catching as ten years ago. Quite possibly so.

Gabriela smiled cunningly. "I should probably stop by to say hello to the good Captain and congratulate him for getting his ship back…" she trailed off.

Oh yes. That's exactly what she would do tomorrow.

* * * * *

CHAPTER 15 – Disconcerting Encounter

Gritting your teeth together, you struggle to suppress the agonized groan threatening to spill from your lips, refusing to give your tormentors the satisfaction of hearing you in agony. Hot, blazing pain was coursing through your battered body as you lay on a hard floor on your side. Warm substance was sliding down your bruised skin: your own blood. It was slowly dribbling from your numerous cuts and gashes, sticking your clothes to your skin. It flowed down the side of your face from the wide cut on your forehead and covered your right eye, rendering it sightless. Suddenly, someone kicks you forcefully on your stomach and you double over in agony, your whole body aching as you cough and gasp, trying to draw in a breath. A disembodied, unrecognizable voice yells you to get up, but you can’t; you’re simply in too much pain. Gods, you never knew one could be in so much numbing, agonizing pain as you’re in right now.

Yet, somewhere in the back of your mind, a spark of rebellious stubbornness ignites and commands you to get up and show them they haven’t defeated you yet completely. Exhaling though your nose, you push yourself upright with your hands and bite back a groan, feeling every muscle protest against the effort. Angrily, defiantly, you glare up at your abusers with your left eye that’s still able to see. That’s when someone, something, attacks your blind side and hits your right temple with a violent force that knocks you down on the hard, unyielding wooden surface again. Darkness falls around you as you slip into blissful unconsciousness where there is no more pain…

You spring upright in your bed with a small gasp, your breathing slightly laboured in the wake of the awful dream. More like a bloody nightmare, really. Still shaken by the disturbing visions, you bring your hand up to your forehead, feeling the skin tentatively. It’s perfectly undamaged. Dropping your hand, you glance around the dim room, gathering your surroundings. You’re still in the Faithful Bride, safe and sound. Exhaling quietly, you shake your head a little in thought. What a weird dream. You had never seen anything like that before. Why would one see a dream of getting beaten like that? What the hell was that all about? Was it some sort of omen? You snort slightly at the ridiculous idea, shaking the whole thing off your mind. It was just a bad dream, nothing more and nothing less. There was no need to over-react…

Rubbing sleep from your eyes lazily, you glance at the small, grimy window on the wall that Anamaria’s bed is situated under, and figure the sun had risen maybe a few hours ago or so. The events of the previous night came crashing back to you, mainly Jack going off with Scarlett. The thought brings a frown on your face, but you were starting to see things in a different light now, in the morning. Come on, honestly; who are you to disapprove of Jack’s actions and his choice of… company? You weren’t his keeper and had no claims on him. He's a grown man and will make his own decisions. Morning really was wiser than the night.

You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, mulling over your dark thoughts last night. Opening them again, you sigh quietly. You had no right to judge him like that. No matter how much it stung you to see Scarlett slobbering all over Jack; it was still none of your business. He was a man after all, and as it was commonly known, men had their needs. Of course women had their needs as well, but usually women controlled theirs a bit better. Hey, I should know, you think mockingly to yourself.

But at the end of the day, you couldn't let one thing, especially thing like Scarlett, come between the two of you and your great friendship. You were so quick to grab onto this one bad incident that you had forgotten all the good moments you've shared over the months. So, you're determined to try and leave last night behind you and just forget it. It was time to stop thinking like a fool and get your head back in the game, so to say.

Looking down, you notice that Lucky is still sleeping contentedly. The small dog is lying next to you on his back with all four legs up in the air and the large ears resting on the mattress, pulled down by the gravity. Small, barely audible whimpers escape between the black lips once in a while, the ridiculously wide front paws making small running motions in the dog’s sleep.

Sitting up properly, you swing your legs off the side of the bed and drop your bare feet on the floor, listening. Despite the fact that it's still rather early, the tavern is already full of life judging by the sounds drifting upstairs from the bar area one floor down. Not quite as noisy as in the evenings, but enough to assure you that you are most definitely on Tortuga. The town certainly has a unique sound to it, as odd as the concept seemed. Anamaria stirs on her bed suddenly, cracking her eyes open and stretching her arms over her head.

"Mornin'," she mumbles, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

"Good morning," you return, glancing down at Lucky who stirs as well, awakened by your voices. The puppy gets up and jumps down on the floor, yawning widely and arching his back upwards, stretching in a manner that's more characteristic for a feline instead of a canine.

"I swear, that animal ain't a dog," Anamaria mutters, having followed Lucky's actions as well. "It doesn't even look like one…"

You frown and huff, feeling hurt for the dog. "Would you stop saying that? Of course he is! So what if he's a bit unproportioned, all puppies are like that. It'll pass once he grows," you defend Lucky, and the dog in question drops his rump on the floor, putting his weight on it instead of his hind legs, as his curious eyes dart back and worth between you and Anamaria.

Anamaria rolls her eyes. "Whatever ye say," she replies, dismissing your words.

"Slept well?" you ask, knowing it's better not to start to argue with Anamaria. Sometimes she could be a bit cranky in the mornings. But then so could you, and the times when both of you were cranky at the same morning wasn't exactly pretty. The conversation between the two of you would be limited to grunts and terse, one-word sentences. Luckily the sour mood usually went away after you both woke up a bit better.

"Good," Anamaria replies, stifling a yawn. "Nice to sleep in a real bed for a change."

You nodded in agreement; that was very true. Aboard the Pearl, the crew slept in their hammocks, as did you and Ana. Only Jack had a real bed in his spacious quarters, and the second bed was in the spare cabin. The hammocks weren't uncomfortable, not at all, but sometimes you really missed a proper bed with a mattress. So, usually when the Pearl was anchored and you'd stay for the night in some port, especially you, Gibbs and Anamaria tended to take advantage of the situation and stay in an inn. Jack, more often than not, did that too, but he's reason was the fact that he wouldn't have to walk (well, more like stagger drunkenly) so far after a night of drinking.

"Hello?!" Anamaria's slightly annoyed voice abruptly infiltrates your ears. "Have ye heard a word I just said?"

You blink in puzzlement, your answer obviously showing on your face, seeing as Anamaria exhales audibly in exasperation and rolls her eyes. You were apparently more absorbed in your own little world than you realized.

"Sorry, Ana. I was thinking," you offer apolitically.

"Maybe ye should stop doin' that," she smirks back. "That way you might actually have a clue on what goin' on around ye."

You quirk an eyebrow and purse your lips slightly. "And just what's that supposed to mean, dear friend?" you ask, slight sarcasm edging into your tone.

Anamaria wets her dry lips a bit before answering. "You have this habit that you absolutely have to rationalize everything and pick every damn thing apart in your head. Ye should try to get rid of it and just go with the flow sometimes."

You frown at Anamaria's words. Were you really like that? You didn't think so, but maybe it did include some bit of logic. You had become distinctly more careful with your actions since your father died and you were left on your own advices. "It's called being realistic," you reply after a moment.

"More like having an obsessive compulsion," Anamaria mutters under her breath as she grabs her boots from the floor and starts pulling them on.

"I heard that," you point out dryly as you lean down to grab your own boot.

"I know. You were supposed to," Anamaria says bluntly with a small smirk as she tucks the leg of her breeches into her boot.

You can't help but to smile at that. "I'm so glad I have you to tell me these things," you say wryly while pulling your left boot on.

Anamaria chuckles. "I know that, too… you know, I saw something last night after you left that could peak your interest."

"Really? Do tell, you know how much I love to gossip," you reply sarcastically, wondering what Anamaria has on her mind this time.

Anamaria smirks slyly and starts talking. "Only moments after ye went out, I saw dear ol' Scarlett stormin' down the stairs and practically runnin' out of the tavern, looking angrier than I've ever seen before. Somethin' tells me she and Jack didn't exactly hit it off last night…" she trails off meaningfully, watching your reaction.

"Oh?" you ask, sounding casual as you pull your other boot on, although inside you feel like smirking as well, feeling ridiculously gleeful about the little bit of information. Jack probably said something stupid in his drunken state that upset her. That's the only logical explanation you could come up with. Or maybe Jack just decided he didn't feel like fooling around with her, after all. …Yeah, right. You were going with the first option.

"I was supposed to tell you last night, but I forgot. Sorry."

You snort. "Well, it's not like I lost any sleep over the matter."

At those words, the unsettling dream you had abruptly comes back to disturb you. You know it was just a regular nightmare, but something about it felt different than any dreams you've ever had before. It was so realistic, as if it had really happened. It was very disconcerting.

"Are ye okay?" Anamaria asks, and you look up at her, seeing her questioning expression. "You seem distracted," she elaborates quietly.

You sit up straight as you exhale through your nose and nod a bit after a moment. "Yeah, you could say that. With many things lately, but namely by this odd dream I had last night."

Anamaria places her palms on the mattress on both sides of her body and raises her brown curiously. "Feel like talkin' about it? It could help."

You decide to tell Anamaria about the nightmare. It could help you forget it, and after all, it couldn't do any harm, could it? "Alright," you say with a nod, and proceed to tell Anamaria everything that happened in the dream. She listens closely, frowning when you tell her about someone striking you on your head and losing consciousness.

"And that's when I woke up," you finish. Shaking your head tiredly, you speak quietly. "It felt so real, Ana. I had to feel my forehead when I woke up to prove myself wrong. I've seen some weird and creepy dreams before, but ever anything quite like that one."

Anamaria is silent for a moment, processing your words. "And you didn't see any of their faces or recognize the voice that spoke?"

You shake your head in no. "That's the annoying thing! It's like the attackers were these elusive people around me. I knew they were there, but I couldn't actually see them. Nor could I recognize that voice. It was odd… I couldn't even make out if it was a male or a female."

Nodding, Anamaria frowns again. "Well, I'm no expert on these matters, but I've had some nightmares of me own over the years. Try not to linger on it. I'm sure it was just a nightmare a bit more intense than usual."

"You're probably right," you reply, but still feel a bit unsure.

Anamaria smirks abruptly, and you raise your brow in question. "Y'know if I were Gibbs, I'd probably say it's a sign of bad luck."

You laugh at the comment, grinning. "Then it's a good thing you're not!"

Mister Gibbs was a wonderful, likable person, also a very wise man, but his habit of seeing bad luck around every corner sometimes got a bit aggravating. According to Gibbs, there was bad luck to be found in birds, women aboard vessels, waking up men when they're sleeping and sailing on Fridays, just to name few. You can't recall how many times you've heard Gibbs tell someone 'it's bad luck'.

"Now that that's settled, how's about some breakfast? I'm starvin'!" Anamaria says enthusiastically.

That was another good thing in staying over nights on land; proper breakfast. The meals aboard a ship were, more often than not, pretty tedious and same old every day. The ingredients didn't exactly keep very well during long sails.

"Now that you mentioned it, I'm pretty famished too," you answer, and your stomach growls in anticipation of some nourishment.

"What are we waitin' for, then?" Anamaria asks rhetorically, getting up and striding to the door of your room. You get up from your bed as she unlocks the door and yanks it open. Faster than you can imagine, Lucky takes off and runs out in the hallway.

"Damn it," you curse, hoping the dog won't go into any of the rooms. "You go ahead, I'll catch up with you in a bit," you tell Anamaria and go after the dog.

Anamaria nods in return, a small, amused smile playing on her lips as she watches you dart after the puppy. Shrugging, she turns in the opposite direction and starts strolling towards the stairs that lead down to the bar area.

You follow the puppy in quick strides along hallway, hoping that any of the room doors aren't open. Luckily the pup took off further down the hallway instead in the direction of the stairs.

"Lucky, come back here!" you hiss, keeping your voice reasonably quiet so not to disturb any of the other clients. You knew they didn't usually appreciate rude awakenings, with their hangovers and all. Much to your terror, one of the doors is creaked open slightly, and of course the curious dog finds it immediately. Pushing the door open, the animal rushes inside and you curse under your breath. You fleetingly recall, much to your relief, that this particular room was actually Jack's, before you push the door fully open and stride inside, pushing the door shut after you.

"Jack, I'm sor–" you begin, but both your steps and words come to abrupt halt at the sight before you. "Oh…!" escapes your lips as you stand the middle of the room.

Jack is lying on the bed on his back and Lucky is standing on his chest, tail wagging and trying to lick his face while Jack holds on to the pup, restraining it while looking up at the dog with a distasteful expression. The scene is downright comical, but that's not what made you slip out the little gasp-like word, oh no; it was the fact that Jack is naked that caused that.

Well, he might as well be naked; only a small slip of a sheet thrown across his lap is keeping him somewhat decent, even though that's not saying much. The only piece of clothing he's wearing is the red bandanna of his that he rarely takes off. You can feel the heat involuntarily spreading to your cheeks as your gaze slides up and down his lean body. Damn, it was warm in the room. That’s probably why Jack had the door slightly ajar, though the reason you’re feeling slightly hot had nothing to do with the room temperature.

"Do us a favour, luv…" Jack finally speaks, his tone one of forced patience as he keeps staring up at the dog that still won't give up his efforts. "…Kindly remove this overgrown rat from me face before it drowns me in drool."

Snapping out of it, you stop staring at his nicely tanned skin and regain control of your limbs. Quickly, you walk next to his bedside and lift Lucky off of him, while trying your best not to ogle at Jack's tanned chest too noticeably. Retreating a few steps back, creating some distance between the bed and yourself, you suddenly remember Jack's words.

"For your information, Lucky's not a rat, and much less an overgrown one," you say, your tone never betraying the effect his half-naked body is having on you.

"Oh, no? I wouldn't bet on that," Jack retorts lazily, while propping himself up on his elbows. "Wait, you've actually named that thing?" he asks you, his tone a bit more alert.

"Of course," you reply with a small grin. "I rescued it last night, and it followed me home. I'm keeping it."

"What?" Jack blinks, now fully awake. "On my ship? I don't think so, missy!"

The matter wasn't open for debate in your opinion, but you decided to try something out instead of starting an argument. You'd seen a lot of women use the trick to their advantage successfully when dealing with men, but you had never tried it, especially on Jack. "Please?" you ask nicely and stick out your lower lip ever so slightly, pouting prettily.

"But it's a bloody… now, ye can't just… you… damn it," Jack finally hisses after his faltering, squeezing his eyes shut in exasperation and muttering something about pouting women under his breath.

You chew on the said lip you just used shamelessly to your benefit, stifling a victorious grin. You wondered how such a simple, basically pointless gesture like that could get a man so disorientated. Sometimes, you couldn't understand men and their mental activity at all.

Jack gives you a glare. "That was totally uncalled for, not to mention completely unfair."

You smile a bit too sweetly in response, shrugging your shoulders. "I think I recall certain someone implying once or twice that pirates don't play fair."

"You're using my own words against me? That's not very nice way to start a morning, luv," Jack says, feigning to be hurt and pulling the infamous sad-eyed puppy dog-look that he has mastered to absolute perfection. You raise your brow in amused admiration; if women know how to get their way through by pouting, that exact look Jack is displaying has got to be the male equivalent of the action.

Ignoring Jack's endearing expression, you shake your head. "Not going to work, Jack."

Jack drops the pleading look in an instant and rolls his eyes, huffing slightly. "Alright, fine. Keep the darn thing. But no monkeys, you hear me? I draw the absolute line on monkeys!"

You chuckle at Jack's ardent opposition of primates. "No monkeys, I swear."

The discussion kept your mind off the matter that Jack was indeed almost nude, but now you're again very mindful about the fact. You can't seem to keep your traitorous eyes from slipping downwards and sneaking another glance at his chest and well-toned stomach, tracing the finely defined muscles underneath his tanned skin. You tear your gaze away quickly when you get the urge to let your eyes keep travelling down south.

Jack’s sharp eyes pick up on your scrutiny and he grins slyly. “Liking the view, luv? Why don’t you get rid of that dog and come get a closer look…” he drawls suggestively and his grin only broadens.

There’s a playful edge in his voice, and you hum a little in amusement, thinking Jack probably would do just that. “I think I’ll have to pass the offer this time, Captain.”

Jack feigns to be hurt again, but quickly recovers and says temptingly, “Now come on, I’d make it worth your while.”

You raise your brow, ignoring the pleasant shiver that ran down your spine at the sound of his velvety voice. Lifting Lucky slightly in your arms to hold the animal properly, you ask casually, “Kinda like you made Scarlett’s while, huh?”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, you feel like kicking yourself, instantly feeling petty. You were supposed to let that matter be and forget all about it.

Jack grimaces. “Let’s make a deal; don’t mention that to me ever again.”

You blink in confusion; this was certainly not quite the reaction you were expecting. “Was it that bad?” you tease with a small smile, masking your surprise.

“Let’s just say things… didn’t go quite as I had planned,” Jack responds dryly, absently lifting his hand to rub his cheek.

“Got slapped, did you?” you ask knowingly, raising a brow.

“Did I! Tell me, is there a bruise on my cheek?” Jack asks you, raising his brows inquisitively.

“Not that I can see,” you reply after taking a quick look.

“Might as well have been,” Jack mutters sourly, mostly to himself. “Bloody wench nearly broke my neck with that cuff of hers...”

You smile a little at Jack’s murmuring, now convinced nothing happened between Jack and Scarlett last night. No matter how hard you tell yourself that it doesn’t really matter whether it happened or not, because it’s none of your business, some small part of you is insanely gleeful about the fact.

“So, what did you do? Did you say something stupid to her?” you ask. You deem it morbid curiosity.

Jack suddenly gets a hesitant look on his face, and he glances at you for only a brief moment before darting his eyes away, looking almost… guilty? You frown slightly at Jack’s odd behaviour, wondering what’s going on in his head.

“Let’s just drop this subject, aye?” Jack says with a quick smile, and you nod a little in acquiescence, even if you’re a bit bewildered. Oh well, it’s not like you wanted to know that much, you’ve got the basics covered.

“Look, luv…” Jack begins after a moment of silence, pausing for a second and thinking about his words. “Could we possibly put last night behind us and just… forget about it?” he goes on, looking slightly discomfited. “The whole Scarlett deal was somewhat of a…” he pauses again, searching for the correct word. “…miscalculation on my part. Had a bit too much to drink. What d’you say?” he finishes, gazing at you solemnly.

Your initial reaction is surprise: Jack, who’s usually so quick-witted and has a way with words, abruptly being so tongue-tied throws you off guard, but you get over it relatively quickly. Then you feel oddly grateful; Jack is in his own way, you think, apologizing for his behaviour, even when he really has no reason to do so. You’d like to question his motives, but decide against it as you look into his beseeching dark eyes. It always those damned, downright illegally beautiful eyes.

Besides, you think in amusement; he’s half-naked. Who could say ‘no’ to that?

“Yeah,” you say softly. “Consider it already forgotten.”

The characteristic, care-free grin graces Jack’s features. “Good,” he replies cheerfully, his gaze lingering around your face before dropping to your shoulders. “I really like that, you know.”

You raise your brow in question. “Like what?”

“Your hair. When it’s down like that,” he says in deep voice, smiling boyishly.

“Oh. That,” you say, feeling somewhat self-conscious by the sincere compliment. You’d been keeping your hair tied up a lot lately, but you’d had no time to fasten it before leaving the room after Lucky. A silence ensues between the two of you, but it’s not awkward or uncomfortable in the least. On the contrary, you feel more light-hearted than you’ve felt in a while.

“So…” Jack breaks the silence, speaking in contemplative tone whilst narrowing his eyes slightly, “Do you think our good Commodore got any company last night?”

You laugh at that. “I doubt it. He wasn’t too pleased about that comment of yours that he likes boys,” you grin at the memory.

Jack rolls his eyes and shakes his head slightly. “Too uptight fer his own good, that one,” he says in pitying tone. “He genuinely needs to find himself a girl. Or a lad, which ever rocks his boat… He should learn from his friends, Murtogg and Mullroy; I tell you, those mates knew how to handle things! Now, they may not know how to swim, but they’ve got it where it really counts.”

You roll your eyes good-naturedly at another one of Jack’s very typical, longwinded rambles, smiling. “Well, make sure you let ole Norrie know that. I’m sure he’ll appreciate your advices,” you reply wryly, but smile.

“Don’t worry, luv,” Jack grins impishly, eyes alight with mischief, “I intend to.”

“I have absolutely no doubt of that,” you reply sincerely. “Well, I should get going. Anamaria is probably waiting for me downstairs; we were going to get breakfast.”

“Ah, speaking of our dear ol’ spitfire,” Jack starts, pushing himself into sitting position. You don’t fail to notice how his abdominal muscles flex enticingly at the movement, and you mentally order yourself to keep your eyes on his face. “Could you give her a word to go and check out things at the Pearl after she’s done?”

“Yeah, no problem,” you nod, smiling slightly. Jack was so attached to his ship it was almost like his child. Or better yet, a lover. Well, it was a safe bet the Pearl was his first love, with the sea.

“I’ll also let her know you called her ‘spitfire’,” you continue sweetly as you start to make your way towards the door.

“No, no, no! You don’t mean that, do you, luv?” Jack demands in alarmed tone. “You realize she’ll only inflict more pain upon my already abused face if she should hear that...?”

You grin mischievously and throw a look over your shoulder. “Oh yeah, I’m very aware of that. You should learn to watch your mouth, Captain Sparrow!”

Nah, you wouldn’t really do that, but the opportunity to tease Jack a bit was too good to pass up. You hear Jack huff and mutter under his breath, “Women… Oy, luv?” he calls out a bit louder just as you get the door open.

You stop in your tracks, looking back at Jack. “Aye?”

Jack’s smirk is sly as he eyes your form. “Want to help me get dressed?”

You chuckle; he’s truly unbelievable. “You never give up, do you? I already told you once; if you can’t manage on your own, you’ll have to come as you are.”

Jack shrugs slightly. “Worth a shot, in any case…” he trails off dejectedly, before raising a brow at you and pursing his lips a bit. “You sure you won’t reconsider?”

You laugh at his persistence, stepping in the hallway and starting to close the door. “See you later, Jack,” you call before shutting it completely, chuckling to yourself as you start walking along the hallway with Lucky in your arms, heading towards the stairs leading down.

* * * * *

Jack exhaled quietly as he leaned his back against the backrest of his chair, glancing around the relatively quiet Faithful Bride. Well, it was quiet for a bar in Tortuga. There were people talking, laughing and arguing loudly, some of them already drunk out of their minds. But there were none of the usual, nightly fights and the various sounds of things breaking as they hit the floor and walls. Not much, anyway.

He’d taken his time getting up since he wasn’t, for once, in a hurry to go anywhere. He’d lounged on the bed thinking this and that after you had left, mainly speculating on the upcoming meeting with Captain Lucas Fowler. Well, he had no ship anymore; she was in very safe hands nowadays, but once a Captain, always a Captain. It had been years since Jack had last seen him, and he wondered whether or not old Lucas would be glad to see him. Jack, personally, was looking forward to seeing the old sailor, the very person who had taught him so much.

Jack had smiled to himself in amusement as he recalled his very first days in the Caribbean; he’d been an obnoxious, cocky lad who thought he knew everything there was to know about everything, never mind that he had only barely passed his twelfth year of life. And old Lucas; the eccentric, maybe even a bit crazy but very amusing Lucas Fowler, had taken him under his wing and showed him the ropes on how to be a true pirate. And Jack had been a good, quick learner, and soon knew every aspect of the life of a pirate by heart; it had gone into his blood and would stay within him until the last day of his life.

Jack knew the meeting tonight would reveal a lot about his past to everyone. But Jack supposed there was time for everything, and the time for that was today. It was true that Jack didn’t much talk about his past, ever though he had one like everybody else, and a very colourful one at that! Jack recalled every adventure and mishap that had ever befallen on him, and enjoyed telling the tales of his incredible escapades to those who wanted to listen, and even to those who didn’t. It was the personal aspects that Jack considered just that, personal. But Jack didn’t think much of the oncoming encounter that would shed some light to his rather shrouded past; they were his friends, anyway. Well, all except Norrington…

Eventually, the hunger growling in his stomach had forced him to get up and throw on his clothing and effects, before staggering downstairs for some breakfast. You and Anamaria weren’t there anymore, but Jack hadn’t expected you to be. He figured you’d both gone to the Pearl, which calmed his anxiety over his precious ship considerably; he knew both you and Anamaria loved the vessel dearly and would do what you saw best for her. Jack did count on the rest of his crew very much, but it eased his mind even more to have people aboard the Pearl that he trusted utterly and completely.

Giving thanks and a quick smile to the portly man who set Jack’s plate of scrambled eggs in front of him on the table, Jack sat up straight, grabbed his fork and dug in. The Faithful Bride was undeniably the best tavern in Tortuga (and one in which he hadn’t gotten thrown out even once) never mind if the food wasn’t really as delicious as it could’ve been. But on the other hand, it could have been worse, so Jack had nothing to complain about. Swallowing a mouthful, Jack took a swig from his tankard to flush it down. Rum and scrambled eggs might have sounded odd combination to anyone else but Jack; to him, it was perfectly edible and hearty breakfast that didn’t taste half as bad as everyone obviously imagined. People and their blasted prejudices, Jack thought absently as he concentrated on the contents of his plate.

If Jack hadn’t been so preoccupied with his breakfast, he would’ve spotted the tall woman stalking unhurriedly in his direction a bit earlier than when she was already standing next to his table, staring down at him.

“Buenos días, Jack Sparrow. What a pleasure to see you again, and in Tortuga, of all places...” the low, smoky accent purred somewhere above him. (Good morning)

Jack halted crewing for a split-second before swallowing. Well, that was a voice he still recognized, even if it had been a good ten years since he’d last heard it. Jack had to bite his tongue slightly to stop himself from notifying her about the lack of his correct title. Getting on the wrong side of her in the beginning would be a stupid thing to do.

Jack was surprised, to say the least. What in the bloody hell was Delgado doing in Tortuga? Had she found out about the map piece they had? Quickly hiding his true feelings, Jack schooled his features into a charming smile and lifted his face, looking up at the Spaniard who was smiling ever so slightly at him.

“Gabriela Delgado! My, you’re still looking just as beautiful as the last time. The pleasure is all mine, darling,” Jack said suavely with a smile, turning on the infamous Sparrow-charm.

Delgado raised one slim eyebrow. “And you’re still the same smooth talker, I see.”

Jack just smiled, gesturing at the chair on the other side of the table, across from him. “Do sit down. I simply insist.”

“I don’t mind if I do,” Delgado replied smoothly, seating herself gracefully. Even while they were sitting down, Gabriela was almost four inches taller than Jack.

Jack scrutinized the woman sitting across of him; she was very beautiful, that much was true. Slightly wavy black hair was pulled back, with few wisps hanging down her forehead, framing her face. The piercing grey eyes that were boring straight into his were slightly eerie, though. There was no doubt this woman was not to be taken lightly, nor should he under any circumstances turn his back on her.

“You know, I don’t think you were quite that tall ten years ago,” Jack mused aloud, small smirk pulling at his lips.

Delgado cocked her head to the side slightly, amused glint in her eyes. “And you didn’t have quite that much hair, so I suppose that makes us even, no?”

Jack chuckled. “Fair enough. Now, as much as I do enjoy this little get together, is there something you wanted?”

Gabriela smirked. “Oh, there are lots of things I want, Captain Sparrow. Lots of things… For starters, I’m very interested about something I heard yesterday…”

Jack grew slightly wary, but kept his outward appearance perfectly composed. He leaned lazily back in his chair again, seemingly careless. “And what might that be?”

Gabriela leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table and lacing her fingers together. “I heard you’re keeping some unusual company these days, Jack. Namely the Commodore of the Royal Navy, the very same that attempted to hang you only a year ago, wasn’t it? And now, he’s suddenly your best friend.”

“What can I say?” Jack shrugged and grinned broadly. “I’m a very likeable person. People simply find me irresistible.”

Gabriela narrowed her eyes, slightly annoyed. “Is that so?” she asked slowly.

She’d forgotten how narcissistic Sparrow was; he’d been bad enough ten years ago, but it seemed that the time had just increased that particular trait. Maybe the reclaiming of his ship again had made him even arrogant. He might be easy on the eyes, but all that talk was badly starting to rub Gabriela the wrong way. But, she shouldn’t be so hasty. Perhaps there were ways to teach the old dog some new tricks, or a sparrow in this case…

Jack glanced at Delgado briefly over the rim of the tankard he was bringing to his lips. “You did too, if me memory serves,” he said with certain amount of smugness in his tone before taking a sip of the rum.

Gabriela frowned at the insolent comment, very displeased about the reminder. “Yes, thank you for reminding me,” she replied frostily.

“You’re welcome.” Was the blithe response she got in return.

Gabriela studied at the man in front of him for a moment, before trying for a different tactic. “I must say I was surprised to find out that the Commodore was still alive, after I left him to die in the middle of the Caribbean,” she said, looking at Jack. “Let me guess; you courteously rescued them from drowning, and in return the Commodore frees you from your charges?”

Jack kept his expression cool, inattentively swirling the rum in his pint around, although inwardly he grimaced. That guess hit too bloody close for comfort.

Gabriela watched him closely; his face was passive, but his expressive eyes gave him away. A casual observer wouldn’t have been able to detect it, but Gabriela was no casual observer. She knew how to read people and interpret the small, often very subtle signs.

She grinned in victory. “I knew it. Oh, how very gallant of you… and how very unlike of you. Doesn’t sound at all like the fierce pirate I’ve heard so much about,” she scolded.

Jack knew better than to take the bait, but took another sip of his rum and stayed silent. Gabriela was disappointed that her taunt got no response, and a sudden flare of spitefulness filled her. It was like plucking the wings off a fly and watch it squirm helplessly. She wanted to prod Jack to react, but so far she’d gotten nothing out of him. It was obviously time for a more efficient topic. And Gabriela knew just the correct one.

“Speaking of company… I noticed that young woman that’s part of your crew nowadays. Byrne, if I recall correctly. Pretty little thing, really. Ah, but you already knew that already, didn’t you, Jack?” she smirked maliciously.

Jack tensed at the mention of you, wondering how much Delgado knew. This conversation was getting more uncomfortable every moment.

Gabriela smiled. Now she was getting somewhere. “So, have you fucked her yet?”

Jack narrowed his eyes at the Spaniard. “Now, now,” he started, keeping his tone steady although there was a warning edge to it. “Like you said, she’s part of my crew and I don’t mix business with pleasure. Besides, I’m sure you didn’t come all the way down here to ask me that,” Jack went on, having managed to calm his temper. Then he added with a smug grin, “Are you jealous?”

Gabriela’s smoky eyes narrowed again in irritation. Sparrow had turned the tables on her and made his way out of the tight spot she’d cornered him. Now it was Jack’s turn to grin in victory.

“Now really,” Jack started, levelling his gaze on the striking woman across of him. “I can get my daily dose of childish barbs elsewhere, Captain Delgado. So unless you have nothing else to say, me breakfast is getting cold and I really hate it when that happens.”

Gabriela raised a brow again. This man was indeed cheeky and insolent. But he could be useful; and if he shut his mouth, he wasn’t too bad. So, she forced a smile on her lips, appearing amiable. “You’re absolutely correct. Do excuse my unkind words, I sometimes get… carried away,” she smiled, although there was a lingering glint of anger in her eyes.

Jack smirked, tipping the pint in his hand slightly in a form of accepting the apology. “Happens to the best of us, luv,” he said noncommittally, taking a drink.

Gabriela gritted her teeth together at the demeaning epithet. She couldn’t understand how women allowed Jack to address them like that; what was so charming about it? Nevertheless, she suppressed her mounting irritation and wordlessly reached a hand inside her coat, while Jack kept a close eye on her every move. She pulled out a medium sized, yellowed scroll, opening the thin leather strip wrapped around it and unrolling it, spreading it over the table. It was the other half of the map, larger in size and not quite as worn as the piece you had found in the hold of the Black Pearl. But there was no doubt that the piece that was currently hidden away in Jack’s quarters would fill the missing part of Gabriela’s map perfectly.

“Do you know what this is?” Gabriela asked Jack, looking at him expectantly. Jack glanced at the map briefly, looking uninterested and returned his attention to his pint of rum.

“Can’t say that I do,” he said in bored tone, the false words flowing out of his mouth with practiced ease. Gabriela obviously had no idea that they were in possession of the missing piece, and Jack figured it would be best to keep it that way for the time being.

“This is the map that leads to the final resting place of the Abyss, the first ship ever to sail in the Caribbean. The legend says it’s filled with riches beyond anyone’s imagination, and it’s out there somewhere just waiting to be found,” Gabriela explained patiently, waiting for Jack’s reaction.

“Well...” Jack trailed off, smiling amiably. “That is truly unbelievable.”

“Not at all,” Gabriela smirked. “It’s very true.”

“And I suppose you're planning to be the one to find it?” Jack asked, flicking his right hand in the air slightly.

“Exactly,” Gabriela smirked. “This map has been in my family for years, decades even, and now it’s up to me to find it as one of the last members of my family. Think about it. Gold, silver, jewels, artefacts; what ever you could ever imagine, its all there. Forget about Isla de Muerta, Jack; this is ten times greater, I promise it.”

Jack leaned slowly back in his chair again, absently stroking his chin and twirling the two plaits absently with his fingers in contemplative manner. He didn’t bother asking her how she knew about Isla de Muerta; many people knew the stories. Isla de Muerta was big, very big. If what Gabriela was saying was indeed true, that treasure in that ancient ship would be more than enough to keep him richer beyond his wildest dreams for the rest of his life. Jack would have been lying to himself if he thought the idea was not appealing; he was a pirate to a heart, after all.

“Jack,” Gabriela began, her voice smooth and convincing. “I know you’re collaborating with the Commodore in order to catch me. It doesn’t take a genius to figure that one out,” she added at Jack’s slightly surprised look. “I’m just wondering…” she trailed off, tracing a circle on the tabletop with her finger. “What are you getting out of the deal? Pardon from your crimes, perhaps?”

Jack regarded Gabriela emotionlessly for a moment. “Perhaps,” he echoed with a small, amused lilt in his tone.

Gabriela nodded and hummed softly. “And what makes you think they won’t hang you after you’ve kept your end of the bargain? Be realistic, Jack! The Navy doesn’t tolerate pirates, even useful pirates such as you. They will hang you by the neck if you stay around long enough, no matter what the Commodore might have promised you. Did you honestly think he would keep a word he made to a pirate?” she asked, sardonic smile curling her lips upwards.

Jack smirked back. “Maybe I have my own purposes behind that deal, luv. It takes more than one Commodore Norrington to get my head on the noose.”

“Oh? But he already did once, or have you completely forgotten about that small detail?”

Jack kept quiet, the small smirk still on his lips. But inside, Jack wasn’t so sure any longer. Gabriela’s words, even though Jack recognized that they were meant to get him to hesitate, brought back Jack’s insecurities he’d had when Norrington had first propositioned the deal to him on Port Royal. Delgado had managed to plant the seed of doubt in his mind, and at that moment, Jack strongly disliked both her for doing it and himself for believing it. Shoving those thoughts aside, Jack again smiled, appearing completely untroubled by her words.

“Well, I’ll just have to keep me eyes open then, eh?” Jack replied glibly, before pointing his forefinger upwards for a moment and narrowing his eyes inquiringly. “It’s my turn to make questions, now. Why are you telling me all this? Ye truly so worried about the well-being of ol’ Jack?”

Gabriela raised her brows in derision. This man was truly a piece of work. “Actually, I have a deal of my own to propose,” she said, leaning slightly closer. “The offer I made you ten years ago still stands. I’m very serious about it, Jack. Join forces with me. We’ll look for the treasure together and share it, fifty-fifty.”

It was Jack’s turn to raise his brows. Now, this was interesting. “You don’t have the missing piece of the map. I’d say the thing is pretty much useless without it.”

“No, but it won’t take me long to get it. I’m very close to finding it, I can feel it in my bones,” Gabriela said, and Jack couldn’t smother the small chuckle that escaped his mouth. If you’d only know how close, he thought in amusement.

“And after I find the person who has it, I’ll rip the poor bastard’s throat out,” Gabriela said evenly, and Jack immediately stopped chuckling, swallowing uneasily. She probably would do just that. Delgado was not known for making idle threats.

“How charming,” Jack replied with a forced smile.

Gabriela’s steely eyes bored into Jack’s, and she narrowed her eyes. After a moment of unnerving scrutiny, she blinked and lost the feral look of her face. “Think about what I said, Jack. The only thing you’ll get out of the deal with the Commodore is a hanging at Gallow’s Point. But if you come with me… you’ll be richer and more powerful than you could ever even imagine.”

“I don’t know, I can imagine a lot,” Jack drawled in return.

“This goes even over your comprehension,” Delgado smiled smugly. “With both your Black Pearl and my Maldito, we’d be unstoppable. Not even the Royal Navy could touch us. And we’d be known throughout the entire world as the most fearsome pirates ever. And we’d be filthily rich, to boot! Tell me if that’s not everything you could ever wish for, hmm?”

Jack felt uneasy. That was everything he could ever wish for… almost. Only one other thing he desired as well was missing from the picture. But Jack knew he could never have both. He’d have to make a choice, eventually.

Gabriela smirked. She’d gotten her message through. Now, all she needed to do was to wait. “You think about it, Jack. Think very hard, and make the right decision. I can give you everything you could ever think or,” Gabriela smiled seductively. “And I do mean it…”

With those words, she gracefully got up and turned around, making her way towards the entrance of the Faithful Bride and leaving Jack alone with his conflicting thoughts. He glanced down at his plate, his breakfast having gone cold. But that was all the same now.

“Lost me bloody appetite, anyway,” Jack muttered to himself, taking a big gulp from his tankard.

CHAPTERS 16-20

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