"A pirates life fer me!" you finish, yelling the last verse across the tavern. Your best friend, Anna, snorts and chuckles. Part of you is aware that you’re drunker than you've ever been before, but you don't care.

"More ruummmmm!" you cry, bursting into a fit of uncontrollable giggles.

"Perhaps ye'v had enough." says Anna, looking at you dubiously. You're starting to teeter dangerously in your chair.

"Naw." You swig some more of the bitter-tasting liquor.

“I'm...” you wave a careless hand around your head "...fine." With that, your head drops loudly onto the table, and you begin to snore softly. Chuckling to herself, Anna calls the barkeep to carry you to your room.

* * * *

You wake up, head pounding and heart racing. Where were you? The last thing you remember was....ahhh yes....rum. You grin sheepishly, and make to stand up.

‘Whoa.’ you think as you fall back down immediately.

‘Maybe not quite yet.’ After relaxing for a few minutes, you stand up, swaying precariously. You hold on to the bedpost for support, and reach for your boots. You check to make sure your bandana is still holding your hair in place, somewhat, and grab your rings, belt, sword, and money pouch.

‘A walk would do me good.’ You open the door noiselessly and slide outside. Only then do you realize it's the middle of the night. (you’re still feeling the effects of the rum)

“Damn it.” It's never good to be wandering the streets of Tortuga alone at night, especially a woman. Even if you were a pirate. Sighing, you turn around to head back inside. You try the knob, but it won't turn.

‘Bloody 'ell.’ you think, ‘did I lock myself out?’ you try the door once more, but there's no way in. No way for you to pick the lock, because you asked to be in a room that locks from the inside. So you're stuck out here for the night. You sigh.

“This is not me bloody week.” You start to walk down to the docks. Since you're out, you may as well make use of your time. You need a ship, and this is the perfect time to look for a vessel to commandeer. Spotting a rather large craft, you walk up to it for closer examination. It’s beautiful, the perfect ship for you. But how would you handle it? You can’t manage this monster all by yourself, can you? Sighing resignedly, you swagger up to the helm, and grab the wheel, feeling the cold night wind whip you hair. You lay on your back, hands behind your head, staring at the stars.

“I can't fall asleep here,” you say to yourself quietly. “I'll be skinned alive when the owner finds me." The last thing you hear before you drift off is you saying "I can't fall asleep."

* * * * *

CHAPTER 2 - Jack's Quarters

"'Ello, mate. What are ye doin' on me bloody ship?"

Your eyes snap open, and you see someone's feet. A man's feet. Thinking for a moment, you realize where you are, and establish that it is not a good place to be right now. You stand up slowly, not looking at the man, and not trying to appear nervous or uncomfortable.

"Oy! Ay asked ye a question lad!"

You look up at his face, and in a half a second go through a stunning series of thoughts. He's gorgeous! His deep chocolate eyes are rimmed with black, kohl probably, his dark hair is pushed back from his face with a red bandana, and his sword is pointed right at your throat.

"Lass." You say strongly.

He seems taken aback; his beautiful eyes flicker uncertainly as he looks at your now visible face.

"Aye. Ye are a lass. Pretty one at that." He eyes your body blatantly, and you clear your throat. You are not eye candy for some obnoxious, albeit attractive, pirate. You cross your arms over your chest.

"I was sleepin'. Can't a girl get some shuteye?"

"Yes, that ye may. But I would prefer, if ye have to be takin' that shuteye on my ship, that ye be in me own quarters." Now it's your turn to be taken aback. He sure didn't beat about the bush, this one! Not that you would mind being with him, but you're a pirate. You've got a reputation to live up to. Especially because you're a girl. Wouldn't do to have everyone thinkin' you had a soft spot for males, now would it?

You smirk, and offer your hand, saying your name boldly.

He raises an eyebrow, looking at your hand, and then grabs it, shaking firmly.

"Capt'n Jack Sparrow." You feel your eyes widen slightly at this. THE Captain Sparrow? The infamous Jack Sparrow? Your eyes widen more at your next thought.

'His ship...he owns...'

"...This is me ship. The Black Pearl."

Perfect. Of all the ships you could have chosen to steal, you chose the Black Pearl. Mentally reprimanding yourself for not seeing that last night, you cross your arms again.

"So what'll I do with ye? I could keep you aboard...do some cleaning, entertainin' fer the crew..." he glances at your body mischievously again. "Or I could kick you off me ship."

You say nothing, showing no emotion. You hope he doesn't kick you off. If he keeps you, at least you'd be at sea again. Sailing off towards the horizon. If he kicked you off, what would you go back to? Picking pockets for a living? Getting drunk every night and waking up not knowing where you were? No, you'd much rather stay here.

"Well, we're headed for Port Royal, so I'll take ye along with me, and if I get bored I’ll drop ye there. But ye'll work fer your ride." You shrug, seeming to not care. Inside, you're cheering.

‘He won't be bored of me...no way.’

* * * *

It's nearing the end of your first day aboard the Pearl, and you've scrubbed the decks, cleaned the kitchens, and eaten nothing. You are utterly exhausted. Jack walks up behind you while you're leaning on the railing. "Where ya going t' sleep? You have a choice...with the crew..." he gestures to some twenty or so men behind you, and you grimace, "...or with me!" at this he bows slightly, grinning widely.

Hmm. You pretend to think about this one. Sleep with twenty sexually frustrated pigs, or find a cozy spot on the floor of one devilishly handsome captain. Tough choice.

"I think I'd prefer to sleep with you." He grins broadly at this, and you stammer to correct yourself. "I mean, I would, uh, rather sleep in your quarters." He winks at you, eyes dancing with laughter.

"As ye wish, luv." He walks off, and you can help but watch as he goes.

You sigh, embarrassed. That was not how you wanted that to go.

* * * *

The rest of the day passed without great event, and you head off to Jack's quarters, wondering what you would say when you got there. You are about to knock when Jack opens the door, smiling serenely.

"Won't ye please come in?" he gestures with his hand towards the room, and you step in confidently. It would not do to have him think you were nervous about tonight. Not one bit. You hear the door close behind you, and Jack step in front of you, pointing at the one small bed.

"Ye sleep there."

"Oh? And where will ye sleep, Capt'n?" you ask sweetly. He seems baffled by your question.

"Well, in me bed...of course."

"With me in it as well?"

"Yea!" he grins as you seemingly catch on.

"I think I'll take that spot." You say, pointing to the floor between the bed and the window, glancing at Jack. He seems disappointed, and you have to bite your lip to keep from smiling.

"Are ye sure, lass? It gets awfully cold...an' I wouldn't want you gettin' sore or anything..." you look into his eyes. His big beautiful brown eyes. He smiles, thinking he has you hooked.

"Yes. I'm sure. Thank you anyway."

"Fine." He huffs, walking over to the bed. He mutters to himself as you look around the room for blankets. You can't find any, and you turn back around to ask Jack where they are. You turn, and your breath catches in your throat. Jack is standing there, shirtless, looking at you with one eyebrow raised. You gulp a few times, staring at his perfectly tan chest, and strong stomach. He laughs, presumably at your shocked expression.

"Knew you wouldn't be able to resist me, luv." He sways over, and you shake yourself out of your stupor.

"I, uh, I need some, uh, some, um..." he chuckles as you stammer to find words. Finally, flushing red and looking down, you point to the floor.

"Blankets. I need blankets."

"Well, luv, the only blankets on this ship are the ones here..." he points to his bed, "and the ones down there." He points at the floor, and you realize he means where the crew sleep. You frown, and he raises an eyebrow mischievously.

"So, luv. Still not interested in me proposition?" he gestures to the bed, and you resign yourself with a sigh.

"Fine. Just... don't... try anything. Stay over there, and we'll be fine. Got it?" You were not going to let him have his way entirely.

"Aye. But don't blame me if you decide to cuddle up during the night." He winks again. Damn those eyes!

You climb in one side, and face the wall. Seconds later, you feel the bed move as Jack climbs in. You turn over, about to remind him of the rules, when you see he hasn't put a shirt on.

"You aren't going to wear a shirt?!?" You don't know if you can take this...sleeping only a few feet apart from the most attractive man you've ever laid eyes on, and he isn't wearing a shirt!

"Naw. Never do." He shrugs uncaringly. "Night, luv."

"Don't try anything." You close your eyes, and melt into the feather pillows and rich comforter. The last thing you hear before drifting off is Jack chuckling.

* * * * *

CHAPTER 3 - Trouble In The Galley

You wake up, feeling the sun on your hair. You are amazingly warm, and almost chuckle at the fact. ‘Cold tonight, eh, Jack Sparrow?’ You open your eyes slowly, blinded by the brilliant sun.

“What the ‘ell…” You mutter, you’re on top of Jack! You have no idea how long you’ve had your head resting on his glorious chest like this, one arm wrapped around his side. You try to move away slowly, but you feel an arm tighten around your waist. You look up sharply, thinking he’s awake. But no, he’s sound asleep. You sigh quietly, wondering how you got there. Did you move on top of him? Did he pull you over? You look at his peaceful face once more, and decide not to worry about it. You rest your head back down on his chest, curl your arm tighter around his waist, close your eyes, and try to fall back asleep. Just as you start to doze off again, you feel Jack’s hand slide down to rest on your backside.

“Oy!” You jump up into a sitting position, and look down at him. He’s awake and grinning now, holding your arm around his stomach.

“Couldn’t resist, could ye, luv?” He chuckles and winks as you scowl.

“’Ardly so. Now will you please let me get up?” You ask, shaking the arm he’s holding onto. He smirks and maintains his grip.

“Fine…” You mutter, trying to pull free. But to no avail. Deciding to try another tack, you face him.

“I guess you’ll have to go through the day with me attached to you then.” You look down your nose at him, and you can see he’s grinning broadly.

“Fine by me, lass.”

Damn. Sitting up straighter, you roll over his stomach roughly so that you’re not quite so uncomfortable.

“Oof. Watch th’ goods there, lass.”

"What goods?" you reply dryly. Jack winces.

"Ouch." You look down at him one more time distastefully, and try to walk away. He seems to let you loose, so you keep walking. Suddenly he pulls you hard and you fall down, smack on your arse.

“Oy! You…” You threaten, but it’s completely lost on him. He’s chuckling slowly, and he stands up, pulling you with him. You growl in your throat, and turn to face him, smiling sweetly. This is obviously not working, so you have to resort to talking to him in his own language.

“Never mind. I think I would rather enjoy being attached to you all day, Jack Sparrow.” You smile temptingly, and place your free hand on his chest. He releases your wrist, and places his hand on the small of your back, pulling you close.

“It’s CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow, and ’at’s what I thought, luv.” You wrench out of his embrace, and turn to face him, standing on the other side of the room.

“Thank ye. Now, will you please leave while I change?” You walk over to the door, open it wide, and motion for him to leave.

“No need, luv. Bathroom’s right over there.” He points to a door you didn’t notice before, and you raise a cautious eyebrow. Walking over to it, you open the door and gasp. Magnificent. Bath tub and everything! You grab your clothes and rush in, closing the door behind you.

“While I’m here, I’m takin’ a bath!” You hear him chuckle, and walk around the small room. You inspect the door for a lock, and find it has none. Sighing, you look for a heavy object. The dresser in the corner will work… you push it over, wondering why it’s not as heavy as it looks. Is it empty? You open the drawer, and see… blankets. Eyes widening, you pull open all the other drawers. Blankets, blankets, towels, an extra pillow… you can’t believe it! Pushing it out of the way once more, you pull the door open, yelling.

“Oy! Jack! JACK!!! There are BLANKETS ----” Your eyes fix on him, and he’s standing looking quizzically at you. Wearing nothing. Nothing at all. You freeze.

“Jesus Christ…” You look away, completely red. You hear him laugh, and walk over.

“Naw, jest Jack.”

You growl, and retreat into the bathroom, closing the door tightly behind you. You stand there for a moment, leaning against the door. Only then do you realize you stopped breathing. Letting it all out in a rush, you gasp for air. Jack chuckles on the other side of the door, and you hear him walking. You move the dresser over to the door again, and dazedly draw a bath. Without even thinking, you step in, still not entirely calmed down.

“Oy! Ow! Bloody ‘ell, that’s hot!” This wakes you up from your little trance, and you realize you just stepped into the bath with all you clothes on. Bright. You can’t say you like the affect that Captain Jack Sparrow is having on your logical mind. Stepping out of you shirt and now sopping wet breeches, you slip into the tub, inhaling deeply. Closing your eyes and holding your breath, you sink under the thick layer of bubbles covering the surface of the tub.

* * * *

It’s been three days since you were found on board the Pearl, and you’re exhausted. Every morning, without fail, you have woken up on top of Jack, and every morning you’ve crawled off in utter embarrassment.

“What th’ ‘ell is wrong with me?” You mutter while cleaning the deck, again. “I’m not like this. ‘Ell! I’m a bloody pirate! Not some swooning girlie!” You scrub the deck harder, venting your frustration on the rough wood. Your knees are starting to hurt from being on them constantly, but you have no time to complain. Besides, you’re a pirate. You’re invincible. You never complain.

“Love th’ view, don’ ye?” says a voice behind you. You swing your head around to see who it is, and find Jack standing there, looking at your backside.

“Oy! I don’ ‘ppreciate that!” You cry out indignantly. You stand up and turn around, hands on your hips. Jack only chuckles, and you glare at him, then stomp away. You walk down into the galley, hoping to find a pint of rum or something else to drink.

Instead you find a dirty pirate holding a knife to your throat. You hardly dare to breathe, and you can feel the cold metal pressed against your skin.

“’Ello, poppit. Wouldn’t move if I were you…”

* * * * *

CHAPTER 4 - A Daring Rescue

You clench your teeth and hiss slowly, and the pirate behind you makes a strangled noise you assume to be laughter. Thinking quickly, you make a hurried count of your weapons. Small dagger in your left boot, sword hanging at your side, knife attached to your belt, and your powerful punch. Deciding you can take this pirate no problem, you relax slightly. (Well, as much as one can relax with a knife against their throat.)

"So. What do ye plan on doin' now that you've got me?" You decide to play innocent; act like nothing's bothering you.

He only gurgles some more in reply, and you sigh. He turns you around so you're facing up the stairs you just came down, and nudges you. You start to walk up the stairs, muttering to yourself. You speak louder, talking to the pirate.

"Ye wouldn't happen t' have some hand cream, would ye? Damn chores make my hands dry up like leaves." The only reply you get is the knife tightening against your throat. You can tell he's broken the skin; you can feel the blood dripping down onto your collarbone.

"'Ey! Watch it!" you call out angrily. He pushes you harder, and you quicken your pace. You reach the top of the stairs, but you’re still standing partially in the shadows. Some of the crew is up on deck, working, and Jack is nowhere to be seen. You remember how rude you were to him, and for the first time hope you get to see him again. If you do, you'll apologize for sure. He pushes you out into the middle of the deck, and whispers in your ear to get their attention. Sighing deeply, you raise your voice.

"Oy! O'er here please! Ahem! Excuse me everyone, but I think this dirty bastard wants something..." you are rewarded for that comment with a slip of the knife, you hiss sharply as you feel more blood trickle down your neck. You see the crew slowly realize what's happening, and one of the men turns to someone you can't see, whispers something, and turns back to face you.

"Tell them I be takin’ over this ship. I be the captain, and I’ll be pickin’ which men live and which die. And I think I'll be takin' ye too..." he whispers once more into your ear. You relay the announcement to the crew, and roll your eyes. None of the crew moves. You sigh once more. Looks like you're going to have to handle this one... pivoting quickly, you turn so you are out of the filthy pirate's grasp. You draw your sword, pointing it at his throat. Quick as a flash, he pulls a sword with his other hand, pushing yours out of the way, and slashing viciously with the knife he still holds in his hand. You feel a searing pain across your stomach, but you push it out of your mind. Parrying his blow with another of yours, you attack. The sound of metal on metal rings across the deck. You slash at his right arm, and he howls in anger as you rip through muscle from shoulder to elbow. Grinning savagely, you thrust swiftly, stabbing him in the shoulder. Your swords connect, and you're drawn up close, fighting to push the other off. Suddenly he backs off, and knocks you in the temple with the hilt of his cutlass. Blinking confusedly, you see him rush at you, weapon raised, eyes on fire. You drop to one knee, and spear him through the stomach.

Your eyes are still not working as they should be, and you stand back up, feeling a little dizzy. Jack rushes into view, and stops as he sees what you standing over the dead pirate. You stagger over to the rail for support. Feeling dizzier every second, you start to sway.

'Please don't let me fall over,' you think, 'it's a long way down...'. You sway dangerously, and Jack suddenly realizes what peril you're in. He rushes forward, but you fall before he can reach you.

The moment you hit the water, you’re jolted back to full consciousness. Probably because of the incredible pain on your stomach and neck.

‘Of course,’ you think while you swim madly for the surface. ‘Salt water in fresh wounds.’

Moments before you reach the surface, you lose consciousness once again.

**Jack's POV**

"Damn that woman. Bloody lass, not 'preciatin' anythin' I do fer her...bitin' me head off all the time..." Taking another swig of rum, I put my feet up on the table. Suddenly, a young boy....what was his name again?....rushes in, looking frantic.

"Captain sir! He's got her, he's...he's on the deck, he's got her...yer lass..." the poor boy faints from sheer terror. I stand up quickly, anger towards her quickly replaced by anger towards whoever this man was...I race up to the deck, and find me pet in locked arms with some dirty scallywag. He knocks her over the head, and she blinks a few times, as if trying to clear something from her vision. I started to run forward as the man charged her, but she stabbed him through the middle. I can't believe it. I never knew she could fight like that! She was standing up now, and swaying precariously near the railing. My eyes widen, as I realize she's going to fall. I start to run over to her, but she falls before I can grab her. Without any hesitation, I dive off the ship, going in after her. I can see her, just barely making it to the surface, flailing wildly. Suddenly she stopped moving. I swim over to her as fast I can with three layers of clothes on, plus a sword, and grab her around the waist.

"Oy! Don't jus' stand there, ye scallywags! Throw me down the ladder!!!" I shout as loud as I can, and my men hurry to do what I ask. Moments later, the ladder is thrown down. Grabbing on, I pull her up to safety.

**Your POV**

You regain consciousness in Jack's arms, sopping wet. Blinking slowly, you clench your teeth against the intense pain your wet shirt is inflicting on your wound. Jack rushes you to his quarters, where he calls to someone, and says something you can't quite hear or understand. He puts you gently on the bed, and begins to take off your clothes. You make a small noise of protest at this, but he shushes you.

"If I leave them on, the salt water will keep stinging you. The good thing is I don't have t’ use any o’ me rum t’ disinfect it.”

“Oh dear god, not yer rum!” you gasp out mockingly. He grins at the smart remark.

“Just hold still, luv. 'Ere." He stuffs the end of your belt in your mouth, small knife slicing through your layers of clothing. “Bite on this when it hurts.”

You nod, and stare at him while he works. He gets to your last layer of clothing, and looks up at you.

"Hold yer breath..." you obey, and he slowly peels off the shirt that has stuck to your wound. You tense, and moan quietly into the cloth. Your hands form into fists, and you squeeze your eyes shut.

"Shh...shh. I know darlin'." He places a soothing hand on your forehead, and you relax a bit. Staring up into his beautiful eyes makes the pain go away, but another uncomfortable feeling moves into the pit of your stomach. You frown slightly, and close your eyes. Moments later, you're asleep.

* * * *

You wake up abruptly; a sharp pang just tore through your lower abdomen. You must have just rolled over and put pressure on your injury. Looking down, you realize you're wearing one of Jack's shirts, and your breeches. Pulling up the shirt slightly, you see a bandage running all the way cross your stomach, just below your belly button. Remembering the previous events, you feel your neck. Same thing. A bandage running from you right jaw to your left collarbone. You jump slightly as something beside you moves, and you look over. There lies Jack, sleeping fitfully next to you. You notice with a smile that he's not wearing a shirt again, and then look around the room. There are no longer clothes everywhere; instead there are bottles of clear liquid, towels, rags stained with blood, and bandages. Gasping slightly, you look down at Jack again. Has he been caring for you? You melt as he tosses restlessly, frown evident on his face. You place your hand on his face, amazed at the instant fluttering in your stomach. Wiping the hair off of his rugged features, you lick your lips. God is he beautiful...

Tracing his jaw line with your finger, you start to wonder what the odd feeling in your stomach is. Perhaps you haven't eaten in a while...

Leaning closer to his face, you breathe in the wonderful aroma. Sea air and rum, and a hint of muskiness. You lean in even closer, wondering what it would feel like to kiss those soft lips...

You gently brush your lips against his; amazed at the instant flutter in your stomach. You kiss him full on this time, one hand in his hair, one on his chest. Pulling back, you look down at him. Sighing, you curl yourself around his body, feeling the warmth and comfort it gives you. You place your hand on the side of his head, stroking his hair. You gently kiss his neck and jaw, feeling each time the jolt of excitement it sends through you. He stirs, and you tense. Will he be mad? After all, the last time you spoke to him, you weren't quite as nice as you could have been. His hand moves on top of yours on his face, and his other moves onto your back.

Smiling, you sit up slightly, so you can see his face. Two dark chocolate orbs stare back at you and you study his face, trying to decipher his mood. He smiles slightly, not the normal Jack Sparrow devilish smile, but a sincere, concerned smile.

"'Ello, luv." His voice comes out husky, and he clears his throat. His eyes never leave yours. You smile, moving you hand to his cheek.

"Did you do this?" you lift up your shirt, showing him the bandage. He nods, still looking into your eyes.

"And this?" You are barely whispering as you point to you neck. He nods again. You smile slowly, and lean down towards his lips. You kiss softly at first, enjoying the feel of his hands on either side of your face. Shifting your position, he deepens the kiss. His hands move into your hair, and you lose yourself. Your tongues fight passionately in your mouths, and you break away, breathing heavily.

"Thank ye...fer these..." you point to the bandages again, and he smiles and nods. He places his hand behind your neck, and lays you flat on your back, moving on top of you. You feel your pulse quicken and your stomach flutter. He kisses you again, but only for a moment. He kisses your jaw, your neck, gently along your bandage.

"Does it hurt?" he asks gruffly, looking into your eyes. Shaking your head a bit, you sit up. Your faces are centimeters away, and you smile. Clearing your throat, wiping the hair back from your face, and smiling, you look up at him.

"You've been caring for me for the last day. Now it's my turn." He grins, and you kiss him softly. "Savvy?"

He looks into your eyes with...what is it? Love? Caring? And says quietly, so quiet you can barely hear it,

“Savvy.”

* * * * *

CHAPTER 5 - Jack's Accident

You kiss him gently on the lips, and on his jaw. Pulling him down on top of you, you kiss his neck and shoulder, hands in his hair. Rolling over so you are now on top of him, you sit up. Your hair falls down like a curtain on either side of your face. Those beautiful eyes stare deep into yours, and your insides melt. Placing both hands flat on his chest, you kiss him quickly.

“So tell me, my Captain. Who was that bloody pirate?” you trace the lines of his collarbones with your fingertips lightly, relishing the shiver that runs through his body at the contact. You look into his eyes questioningly.

“Eh? Oh, ye mean… aye. He was Barbosa’s first mate… bloody scallywag… no idea what he was thinkin’… stowin’ away on my Pearl…” He looks at you, grinning coyly.

“And since when could ye fight like that?”

“Oh, ye know… picked it up here and there…” You say in an offhand voice, flipping your hair out of your face. He chuckles appreciatively.

“I’da known, ye’d have been up with the crew… not scrubbin’ decks… sorry luv.” You smiling down at him to show it’s ok, you lean in for another one of Jack Sparrow’s amazingly passionate kisses. His hands flow through your hair, thumbs barely grazing your cheeks. You moan slightly into his mouth, and he takes that as encouragement. Your hands roam his chest, sliding behind his neck and pulling him closer to you while his clever tongue ravages your mouth completely. Moaning again as he pulls away, this time in despair, he winks and grins.

“Anythin’ else ye do that I should be aware of?”

Breathing heavily, you look down at him for a moment….thinking about your life before the Black Pearl and Jack Sparrow. Getting drunk everyday…involved in useless fights….the only thing you hadn’t done is prostitute yourself. In fact, you were still one hundred percent virgin….not a trait you flaunt for sure. To be a pirate and a virgin is fairly shameful, but you told yourself that you just didn’t have time for useless things like sex. Of course, part of you was curious, but that wasn’t a big enough part of you to actually do anything about it. Looking down again at Jack, you can tell he thinks the answer is no. Suddenly you burst out laughing. You haven’t laughed like this in ages. Drunken giggling didn’t count.

“What?! What’s so funny?” Jack clearly looks startled, and you run your hand through his hair, looking into his eyes.

“Oh, Captain….more that you could imagine. I’m not exactly a lady… I’m sure ye’ve noticed…” you wink and he smirks, toying with your hair. Sighing comfortably, you lie down on his chest, snuggling under his chin. His left arm wraps around your middle, and the other stays in your hair, stroking gently. “I used to drink every night. Rum. A lot o’ rum. I fought anyone who dared talk to me, I was hated by all other women, and I didn’t care a bit.” He chuckles.

“Why did women hate ye? Were ye… ahhh… lets just say… did you offer ‘pleasurable company’ to men?”

Shocked, you bring your head up, glaring at his face. He looks into your eyes and smiles weakly.

“Ah. I see that wasn’t the case. My mistake luv.” He grins imploringly, his eyes asking for forgiveness. Sighing and shaking your head you smile. How is it that his eyes can make you do anything? You’re going to have to be careful. If he asked you anything, and looked into your eyes, you knew you’d agree right away.

‘Best be careful round those gorgeous eyes,’ you think, lying your head back down on his chest. You both lie there for a moment, then Jack speaks up.

“Did ye say… hold it… did ye say RUM?”

Lifting your head up once more, you nod, eyes curious. His eyes light up attractively, and you crease your brow, wondering what was going through his mind. Quick as a flash, he heaves you off his chest, and swaggers over to a large chest on the floor. Kicking off the lid, he turns to you, triumphant.

“So, me luv. Ye like rum? Then rum ye shall have….” You scramble off the bed and hurry over next to Jack. Your eyes widen and a familiar loopy grin forms itself on your face. Reaching into the chest, you grab a half-full bottle. Biting the cork out with your teeth, you hold the bottle up to your lips, feeling the harsh liquid slide down your throat and warm you to the core. Swaggering backwards, bottle still attached to your lips, you almost fall over in ecstasy. How long had it been since you’d had a drink? Four days? Wow… it felt like four years. Draining the bottle in one go, you close your eyes and sigh contentedly. Putting the bottle down, well, actually dropping it down on the floor beside you, you turn to face Jack. Opening your eyes, grinning crazily, you see him standing there, rooted to the spot. He’s staring at you, a look of amazement spread across his handsome features. Giggling lightly, you waltz over to him, swaying seductively. Your eyes dart down to the bottle of rum held at his side.

“Aw… what’s wrong, luv? Not thirsty?... ahh….’at’s alright…” you make a grab for his bottle, but he moves it out of your reach, eyes never leaving your face. He holds the bottle up to his lips, and before he drinks, he grins at you and winks. Moving the bottle to his lips, you watch as he also drains the whole thing. Raising your eyebrows, he drops the bottle on the ground next to yours and smirks in your direction. Walking back over to the chest, he grabs another two bottles. Handing one to you, he quirks an eyebrow and holds his drink up, smiling mischievously.

“Are ye challengin’ me, Jack Sparrow? Cuz if ye are, prepare to lose!” he smirks and shakes his head slowly. You walk over, and kiss him seductively. He can’t decide whether to hold onto his rum or drop it to hold you, so he compensates by grabbing your arse with his free hand. Your hand dances over his bare chest, and comes to rest just below his bellybutton. You drop your drink, and rake your other hand through his silky hair. You hear another bottle hit the ground with a dull thud, and feel his other hand on the small of your back, pulling you close. His hand moves off your ass, and you miss the touch immediately. Kissing a trail from his lips to his neck, you move your hand from his abdomen to his back, just above his pants. Continuing to kiss his neck, you feel both of his hands move into your hair, pulling you closer. You start to lick and tease the soft skin on his neck, and are met with more ragged breathing from Jack. Pleased at the response, you move to his ear, nibbling gently while your hand on his back draws small circles. He groans, and you smile into his hair. Perfect. Moving away, you grab your rum and plop own on the bed not-so-gracefully. He makes a noise of protest, and you smile.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Jack Sparrow.”

“For the last time, luv...” he bends down and picks up his own bottle, then stares at you. “It’s CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow.”

You don’t reply, only bring your bottle to your lips and smirk. After taking a long swig, you look at him.

“Whatever ye say, Captain.”

* * * *

You wake up, head only pounding a bit. Turning around, you look for Jack. Not seeing him, you stand up, a tad bit alarmed. You start to walk to the bathroom to see if he’s in there, and almost kill yourself tripping over the drunken form that was once the Elegant Captain Jack Sparrow. Chuckling slightly, you bend down look at his face. Straightening, you pull your tunic on over your shirt, and shove your feet into your boots. Grabbing your effects, you saunter out of the room, closing the door quietly behind you.

You walk across the deck, breathing in deep the early morning air. A voice interrupts your peaceful meditation.

“Yer up early, lass.” Turning, you find Jack’s first mate, Mr. Gibbs. He’s a nice man, for a pirate. He and you get along well.

“Aye. Poor Jack’s still sleepin’.....gonna have one hell of a hangover when he wakes...” grinning at Gibbs shocked look, you elaborate.

“’Ad a bit of a contest, he and I. Can ye guess who came out victorious?” Grinning smugly at Gibbs awed expression; you turn and head to the galley for some breakfast. Smiling a good morning to the cook, you grab an apple and start to head back up when you hear two voices. One is Mr. Gibbs, and the other is a very hung-over Jack. Standing just outside the door, you listen to their conversation.

“Morning, Captain. Trust ye slept well...” judging by the sound of Gibbs voice, he was grinning.

“Aye...” Jack mistakes Gibbs comment, not aware that you have already informed him of last night’s festivities. Jack lowers his voice, and you strain to hear what he says.

“Ravished ‘er completely senseless. Poor lass...reckon she was a virgin...” your mouth drops open, and you repress a gasp. How dare he! Narrowing your eyes, you think to your self, two can play at this game....

Turning into the room, you find Jack with his back to you, and Gibbs. A few other members of the crew are sitting at the tables, chuckling appreciatively at Jack’s apparent power in the bed. Gibbs spots you, and winks knowingly when you smile secretively at him. Jack’s still ranting about what apparently happened last night.

“Girl couldn’t stop screaming me name...couldn’t keep her bloody hands off me, I don’ blame her...” you cross your arms over your chest and clear your throat. Gibbs feigns a look of surprise, and Jack spins around quickly. You see a wince flicker across his face, before he breaks into a big smile.

Gibbs chuckles, and speaks to you.

“Ay heard ye had quite a romp last night, lassie.” Jack’s eyes widen as he looks at you imploringly. You only grin coyly at Gibbs, and slide one arm around Jack’s waist.

“I suppose...” you say quietly, looking at Jack. He’s confused, and you continue, facing Gibbs. You raise your voice some, so the crew can hear you this time.

“Although, I have to admit... I got bored not far into it and fell asleep.” You look at Jack, nearly bursting with laughter at the look of horror on his face. The crew turns, at stares at Jack, eyes wide.

“Was it good fer ye? Hopefully it was...would be a pity to have wasted all that energy and neither one of us get anythin' outta it..." looking into his eyes, you wink slightly, and saunter off. You can feel Jack’s wide eyes follow you all the way.

Once out of the room, you turn and hide again behind the doorway.

You peek your head around, and see Jack has turned back to face Gibbs, who’s barely containing his amusement. None of the crew are speaking, worried that if they open their mouths, they may laugh.

“Well!....she....bloody ‘ell.....damn woman....” Jack sputters, and Gibbs chuckles.

“Sounds like ye need a moment....” his voice dies off as he looks at Jack’s face.

“Right. Well! Off I am!” Gibbs smiles weakly, and rushes past Jack, still standing there. As he walks past, you grab his arm and he spins around. Looking at each other, you snigger quietly into your hands.

“’At was harsh, lass.” Says Gibbs, look at you apprehensively. Shrugging, you smile carelessly.

“Shouldn’t be makin’ up stories like that.” With that, you walk up on deck to another beautiful day at sea.

* * * *

Today was the first day you didn’t spend on your knees cleaning the deck or the kitchens. You actually worked. You helped the crew with whatever needed to be done, and wasn’t bothered by any of them. The ones that had been down in the galley with you and Gibbs and Jack looked at you with an amused expression and you only smiled innocently back at them. At dinner, you ate with the crew, instead of with Jack as you had been doing for the last few days. The food was just as good, and the company was alright. You were slightly tipsy when you walked back to Jack’s quarters after dinner. You open the door, and don’t see him anywhere, so you walk to the bathroom, intending to take a quick bath before bed. You haven’t had a bath since your first night aboard, and you are starting to feel pretty grimy. Opening the door to the bathroom, you gasp in surprise. Jack is lying on the floor, eyes closed, mouth slightly open, hand around the neck of bottle of rum. Chuckling slightly, you move over to him and try to wake him.

“Jack. Jack. Come on now, up we’s gets....” you wind your arms around his middle, and heave him up so he’s sitting, head leaning on your shoulder. Suddenly you notice a pool of blood on the floor, right where Jack was lying. Gasping, your hand flies to the back of his head, and you feel his hair is thickly matted with blood. Your heart starts to beat rapidly, and you feel your chest tighten. What happened? Was he ok? Was he even alive? Strengthening your grip on his middle, you pull him up some more, yelling loudly.

“GIIIIIBBBBBBBBBBBBSSSSSS!!! GIBBS!!!! ANAMARIA!!! IN JACK’S QUARTERS!!!!” you scream as loud as you can, almost right into Jack’s ear. But he still doesn’t move.

“...please....please.....oh god...” you whimper as you drag him over to the bed, and drop him down onto it. Climbing on the bed as well, you grab under his arms and pull him up onto the middle of the bed. You jump off, and start taking off his hat and bandana, still yelling for Gibbs. No one is coming yet. You rush into the bathroom, ripping off your tunic. You throw it in the tub, and turn on the hot water. It seems to take an eternity to become warm, and you sink your shirt in the water, soaking it completely. You hurry back out into the bedroom, and rush to Jack’s side. Rolling him over gently, you begin to dab at the back of his head. In a matter of minutes your shirt is absolutely saturated with blood. Ripping off your other shirt, so you are now only wearing your small black undershirt, you return to the bathroom and submerge your shirt in the water. Folding it neatly this time, and wringing it out so it’s not dripping wet, just damp, you place it over Jack’s wound. You sit there for a moment, heart racing and mind reeling. How had this happened? Was he hurt elsewhere?

Tentatively you pull up his shirt to examine his back, and see that it’s fine, and you breathe a sigh of relief. You stare down at him for a moment, wondering what you should do. You lift his hair off his neck to place a cooler rag there, and inhale sharply. A large, violent bruise is forming across his neck, and down across his shoulders. You place the cool rag along the purple bruise, and rush to the door, looking for anyone. Turning around and looking at the still form of Jack, you feel your heart pounding against your ribs.

“Jesus, Jack. Please...just...oh god. Don't leave me....”

You pivot quickly and run out into the night, hunting for anyone who can help you.