“But I don’t want to!” you fairly shouted, stomping your foot childishly on the floor. Your mother sighed impatiently and examined her nails. She was young, only in her early thirties, but the stress of having four children was beginning to take its toll visibly on her pretty face. Lines creased her brow vividly when she frowned, and crinkled pleasantly around her eyes when she laughed. Her long, wavy blonde hair had been drawn up with a delicate flourish, and piled on top of her head. Her eyes were tired and soft, the palest blue imaginable. She had small delicate lips that turn down into a pout when thing didn't go her way. She was small; more like a woman should be in those days. You already stood a whole head and a half above her. But, boy, when she was angry it seemed the other way around. You were about to experience that.

"This is not a matter for discussion!" she stated firmly and strongly in response. You growled and clenched your fists, placing them firmly on your hips.

"You're right! This should most definitely not be a discussion! It is entirely my decision!" Your mother sighed like a martyr and dropped her voice, although it now had a tone of finality.

"This is your father's decision, and he has agreed. You should be honoured that he has asked for your hand! He is one of the most prominent figures in Kingsbury! I have heard whisperings that he is next in line to become Governor! Are you not flattered?"

You rolled your eyes impatiently. She was really not getting this. Despite the age difference of only fifteen years, she seems ages away. She just never understood anything! She didn't understand when to leave you to make your own mistakes; she didn't get it when you just didn't want to talk. She was constantly asking questions. Prying, trying so desperately to become a part of your life. And it was for that reason you resented her. She was too nosy; too 'in-your-face.' Given time, you would undoubtedly come to realize what an asset she was in your life, and how helpful she could be. But she never gave you that time. You felt constantly angry at her and her actions. Recently it had been even worse. You had not really had a conversation in days, opting for cautious politeness and wary avoidance instead of an apology. You didn't even remember what had gotten her so riled up in the first place. But it was that she was so completely opposite from you that made it hard for her to understand where you came from. She was calm and collected, always planning her actions carefully, thinking seriously of the consequences. She hated surprises; you loved them. She planned her days down to a T; you did whatever struck you in that moment. She represented all that was ordered and neat, whereas you represented anarchy and chaos. What's more was that you thrived in it. Your spirit wasn't something that could be repressed; stuffed in a box and shoved to the back of a closet (as you suspected your mother's was... occasionally, when she was scolding you for your most recent transgression, a glimmer would twinkle in her eyes, and the corners of her mouth would turn up slightly... as if in memory of her youth. Oh yes, your mother had spirit definitely, but she had hidden it away). Your spirit needed to roam, to run free. You wanted to travel... to see the world. To go out into the great wide open, with no direction and only the coins in your purse. To see where it takes you. To not have to---

You were brought out of your silent reverie by a small noise of impatience from your mother, who was tapping her foot, still waiting for an answer. To the question that you had, unfortunately, forgotten by now.

"Eh... what was that?" you said timidly with a small smile. You mother rolled her eyes in exasperation and crossed her arms daintily across her chest.

"I said, are you not flattered?" You groaned and dropped your shoulders in an exaggerated sigh.

"Of course I'm flattered mother. Nevertheless, I wish you had consulted me about this. I would have talked to him and said 'Why Jason, I am deeply honoured!'" Your mother's face lit up shortly.

"...and then I would have said no." Her face fell again, and she sighed for what seemed like the millionth time.

"Well, your father has accepted Lord Grayson's generous proposal. I suggest you ready yourself for a wedding within the year." With that, she nodded her head stiffly and swept away in a ruffle of petticoats and skirts. You let out a cry of frustration and turned on your heel, stomping up the wide sweeping staircase.

* * * *

A few hours later, you had made up your mind. You were leaving. Tonight. You would take your savings and leave town. The only thing was; you would have to disguise yourself. Everyone in town knew you as the Commodore's daughter, and it would definitely not do to have someone recognize you stealing out during the night. You stood in front of your mirror, staring at your refection forlornly. You took in your entire body, all seventeen years of it. Your long, straight, jet-black hair hung to the middle of your chest, cascading over your shoulders constantly. It drove you crazy, but you loved your hair. It was one of the few aspects of your person that you liked. The only other thing was your eyes; startling grey, and flecked with violet occasionally. Other than that... you were not especially flat chested, nor were you especially gifted. Your waist was not trim and pinched like so many you knew; you refused to wear a corset ever. You were not the only one, either. Recently there had been a booklet published on the effects that corsets had on a woman, and it shocked some of the public into realization. Women died young, having destroyed their internal bodies and wrecked havoc on their lungs. Dissections had found stomachs were the uterus normally was, liver, gallbladder, and pancreas all pressing tightly against the lungs in the ribcage. Some women had even had their bottom two set of ribs removed in order to tighter their corsets further! Ribs removed! Could you imagine that! You shook your head in disbelief, and turned back to the mirror. Your abdomen flared out into wide hips, then to slender legs and slightly over-large feet. You were startlingly pale, and it contrasted drastically with your ebony hair.

'Which will have to be the first to go...' you decided half-heartedly, pulling your dagger from its hiding place in one of the drawers of your desk. You grabbed firmly to a clump of hair with your right hand, and placed the dagger between it and your neck. Biting your lower lip and furrowing your brow, you began to saw methodically at your taut locks. Soon you were holding about eight inches of your own hair in your fist. You dropped it into the small basket you had put at your feet. Looking up in the mirror, you winced. On the right side of your face, the hair hung inches above your ear, while on the left it still fell to your breasts. You sighed heavily, picking up the hair on the other side of your face, and beginning to hack away at it. In less than an hour, you had managed to cut all the way around your head. The back had been incredibly difficult, and you had several small slices in the back of your neck where you had not been able to see what you were doing. When you looked into the mirror, however, the same person stared back. You growled grumpily and took up the blade once more. It was going to have to be shorter then....

* * * *

Another two hours later, you were much more satisfied. It had taken so much long this time, since you were cutting closer to your head. You hair was now only about an inch and a half long, and that in itself made you almost unrecognizable. You reached over onto your bed, where a long white bandana lay. You had snitched it earlier from your older brother. He was always out, traveling and seeing the world. You envied him enormously. You tied the bandana around your forehead, letting the ends trail down unevenly over your shoulder.

"There." you proclaimed triumphantly. "Much better." You then set about arranging the rest of your appearance. You stepped out of your dress and your bodice, quickly tearing a long, wide strip from the bottom of your underclothes. You placed it over your breasts, and wound the cloth tightly across your chest. You winced, but secured the end carefully. Goodness that hurt! Turning sideways, you were pleased to notice that there was no vicissitude across your chest and stomach. It was all flat. You waltzed over to your drawers, where you rummaged about for your only pair of breeches and tunic. Finding them at the bottom, you yanked them out and smoothed them on the bed. They looked a bit small, but they would have to do. You slipped into the pants, and they fastened easily about your waist, but ended up coming short; they only reached about two inches about your ankles. You shrugged your tunic on over your head, and reached under your bed for your boots. They were black, worn leather, and they rose about to the middle of your calves. Your mother never let you wear them out of the house if she could help it. But you loved those boots. You stood and walked over to your mirror. Instead of the seventeen-year-old daughter of a Commodore staring back at you, there was a young man, face filled with determination. The only thing strange about this particular boy was his striking eyes and high cheekbones. You grinned at your disguise. It was impenetrable. It was sure-fire. You grabbed your rucksack and slung it over your shoulder. You were ready to go.

There was, actually, one more thing. Two to be precise. Marie and Isabelle. Your two younger sisters. Marie was twelve, but understanding beyond her years. When you spoke with her, she never judged, never scoffed, or laughed. She spoke with delicate politeness, and with brash rudeness. She was compliant, and yet persuasive. Marie was an excitable child, always pumping full of vivid energy, gabbing nonstop at times. It was somewhat ironic to see a girl with such childish actions and tendencies, but know that somewhere inside of her dwelt the answers to life deepest questions. She was fair skinned, blonde, and beautiful. And better yet, was that she didn't know it. No flaunting, or conceited airs about her. She was the only one in the entire household who seemed to comprehend your actions, and the reasons behind them. She was stubborn as a mule, and incredibly feisty to boot. She would kill you if you left without saying goodbye. And you knew you could say goodbye. She would not utter a single word about your disappearance or your sudden change of appearance. She knew when to keep her mouth shut, that one.

Isabelle, your other sister, was approaching one year. She was a fussy baby, never content unless she was being held and fawned over. But she had her blissfully tranquil moments, and they made up for any ordeal she caused. She was, after all, only a babe.

You tread silently towards Marie's room at the end of the hall. Sidling in through her slightly ajar door, you closed it with a quiet snick behind you. Dropping down your rucksack, you walked over to sit at the end of her bed.

"Marie." you whispered lightly. She rustled in her sleep.

"Marie, get up." you whispered slightly louder, eliciting a diminutive groan from the small girl. You grinned and pulled back her covers, climbing in next to her. You pulled the downy comforter up over your shoulders and turned to face your sister. You two had spent many night like this; talking, secretly keeping each other safe in your own ways. She was an amazing person, your sister. She would be missed most sorely. "Mmm, whudda ya doin'?" came the muffled and sleep-laden response.

"Leaving." you replied hushedly. Suddenly she was wide-awake, and she turned to face you, your noses touching in the dark.

"You're leaving?" she repeated evenly. You nodded.

"Just wanted to say goodbye to my favourite girl." You flashed her a winning grin, and she chuckled lowly.

"Alright. Where you going?"

"Mmm, don't know yet. Just going."

"Alright. Why?" She asked all these questions evenly and calmly, never getting excited or overreacting. She was extremely levelheaded.

"Mother wants to marry me off to Jason." Marie giggled childishly.

"Lord Grayson you mean..." she whispered, mimicking your mother's voice perfectly. You chuckled, and Marie continued.

"I'll give you time. Make an excuse. I'd say you've got about two days before mother or father find out." You nodded your thanks. Silence surrounded you two, but it was a pleasant silence. Marie arched her neck and kissed you lightly on your nose.

"Be careful."

"Sure will." you replied. Your younger sister reached over and grabbed your hand, laying your palm facing upwards. You felt something warm slide into your hand, and she curled your fingers closed.

"So you'll come back and get me." she said matter-of-factly. You nodded and climbed out of her bed, putting the precious object in your coat pocket. You tucked her back in, then leaned over her. You kissed her forehead lovingly, and walked back over to the door. Turning back, you whispered through the darkness: "See you soon, my girl. Love you."

"Mm-hmm. Love you too. Now shoo. Let me sleep." You chuckled and slipped out of her room as silently as you had slipped in. You walked swiftly to the next door in the hallway, and crept inside. This was Isabelle's room. Her cradle stood in the corner of the room, across from the window. It was open, and the light summer breeze ruffled the sheer drapes that hung in front of it. Placing your rucksack down once more, you squatted down next to your youngest sister. Her tiny breaths reached your ears, and you felt your body inadvertently unclench. You slipped your finger into her fist, and she immediately grabbed on tight in her sleep. You had also spent many a sleepless night like this; huddled on the floor next to your baby sister, Marie too when she had been younger, your finger clasped tightly in the child's fist. Only two weeks before the birth of Marie, the governor's newborn son had died unexpectedly in his sleep. The doctor had said he had simply stopped breathing. So from then on, you snuck into your sister's room at night, hoping that they would feel your finger and your warmth, and remember to breathe. Isabelle stirred, and the tiniest of whimpers escaped her lips. You smiled sadly, and slipped your finger from her hand. Kissing your two fingers and placing them lightly on her forehead, you grabbed your bag and hurried from the room. The first light of dawn was beginning to peek into the room, and it was time to get going. You raced silently down the stairs, and left though the door in the back of the kitchen. Jogging, you managed to make it back to the road leading to town just as the sun shot its first rays over the hills. You grinned triumphantly and made your way into the awakening little village.

* * * *

"Fresh mackerel! Lovely, fresh mackerel!"

"Get your vegetables here! Carrots, lettuce, turnips! Get them here!"

"Hot cocoa!"

That last one sounded quite lovely, you decided as you wove your way though the quickly forming crowd in the streets. It was market day, and everyone came out to buy supplies, necessities....

'And some for, er, sport.' you thought with a giggle as you noticed a small table tucked back into the corner. It displayed small, unlabeled bottles alongside various lotions. A small group of furtive looking men milled around the table, occasionally shooting nervous glances over their shoulders. You moved past the table, making your way towards the voice that called out for hot cocoa. Spotting it towards the end of the street, you weaved through the crowd, determined. When you finally reached it, you spun around quickly and placed a hand to your lips. The man behind the table was none other than your tutor Mr. Levee. He had known you since you had started studying when you were six.

"Yes! You! Young man there! How about some hot cocoa?" you heard him cry out towards you. Wincing and biting your lip, you turned carefully. You assumed an expression of surprise on your features.

"Me, sir?" you asked innocently, casting a confused glance around you. Mr. Levee frowned for a moment, and then nodded eagerly.

"How about a nice hot cup of cocoa to start off yer day, sir?" you grinned more in excitement that your disguise had worked than anything else. Mr. Levee took that as a yes, and grinned as well. He poured a steaming river of chocolate into a small mug, and offered it to you. You nodded your thanks and paid him two shining silver coins. He pocketed them quickly, then shot you a look out of the corner of his eyes.

"Now ye be returning that mug, ye hear? It'll cost ye quite a fair bit if I don't get it back..." he warned firmly. You nodded and assured him you'd return it. With that, he grinned again, and turned to serve his next customer. You wandered off out of the crowd, holding the warm mug between your fingers. You scanned the horizon, and sighed quietly. Looking over towards the docks, you saw several large ships harboured there, one of which stood out the most obviously. It was much more grand than all the others were, and seemed to draw all light from those surrounding it. It was the only one with black sails, which only made it stand out more. Several small figures scurried around the deck, and you wondered what they were doing.

"Oy! Sir! Stop that man!" called out a young male voice, and you snapped to attention immediately. Looking around, you saw a blur of black, red, and brown race towards you. You made to move out of the way, but the figure flew right into you, sending you tumbling backwards. Your cocoa spilled all over your clothes, burning searing blisters into your skin. You hissed and tried to get up. The man was scrambling off of you hurriedly and you caught a glimpse of several guards sprinting towards you in the distance.

'Ooooh, this will be interesting...' you thought with excitement. Your mind was already thinking up fanciful ideas about why this man was being chased. Perhaps he had escaped from the jail. Or he had been sleeping with the governor's wife. Or he--- Your wild thoughts were cut short as the man quickly heaved you back onto your feet. You dropped the mug you were holding, and it shattered at your feet. You glanced down at your soaked clothes and winced as the pain of the burns set in.

"Ye ok, lad?" the man asked you quickly through panting breaths. You didn't answer, just tried to peel the cloth away from your leg and stomach tenderly. The man growled and grabbed your hand and swung you behind him, starting to run again. You snatched up your rucksack, which had fallen on the ground when he has crashed into you, and tried to keep up with his steady steps. He raced through the crowd, people jumping out of his way with shrieks and screams. You saw Mr. Levee, and felt guilty about his mug, shattered on the ground back there. There was no time for guilt however. The strange man was weaving skillfully through the throng, and you were stumbling to keep up. Finally, he ran clear of the crowd, and spoke up haltingly.

"Lad... check if... they're... still following..." You cast a quick glance over your shoulder and saw them still following, slightly behind due to the crowd and this man's fast steps.

"Yes!" you cried out to him. He growled and put on an extra spurt of energy. He raced towards a street that branched off from the one you were on. It led straight back to your house, and the fort. You realized his intent, and pulled him back hard.

"Not that way... fort... cells... Commodore... this way." You spun around and pulled him along with you. letting go of his wrist, you raced through the empty streets and down a small lane. You immediately stopped running, clutching at your sides for breath. The man cast a look about nervously.

"Ye sure know yer way around, lad. I'll give ye that." You let out a small laugh, still gasping for air.

"But how're ye sure they'll not follow?" You spun around and grinned.

"Oh, they'll follow, alright." The man's face filled with confusion, and you chuckled. "But they won't find us. This way!" you called out in a singsong voice, traipsing down the lane. You glanced back and saw the man following hesitantly. You would need time to study his features... but at a glance he looked kind of like... well...

'He looks like a pirate.' you thought excitedly, your heart pumping fast against your ribs. You led him through the houses on one side of the street, and soon you were facing the ocean, the docks only a mile or so off to your right along the beach. Right in front of you, however, stood a long wharf that stretched about 500 yards out into the sea. Grinning, you waltzed through the sand towards the quay. You walked under the wharf where it was high enough, and crawled up until you were sitting in the shadows, right up where the weathered wood met the sand. You saw the man climb in behind you. You sat cross-legged in the sand, dropping your sack to the side. It was just high enough that you could sit straight without bumping your head. The man sprawled on his back next to you, chest heaving.

"Are you a pirate?" you blurted out rudely. Startled at your own brashness, you slapped a hand over your mouth. The man only chuckled and looked up at you.

"Do I look like a pirate?" You shrugged and looked him over carefully. His hair was tangled and whipped into a dark mess, and was adorned by various bead and trinkets and the likes. It was held back from his face with a beautiful red Spanish bandana, tied in the back presumably with its ends trailing delicately over his shoulder, much like yours. His eyes looked at you appealingly, waiting for an answer. They were a deep chocolate colour, and rimmed with dark kohl. His lips were curled into a somewhat amused half-smile, and his cheeks were shadowed by his high cheekbones. He had on a dirty looking white shirt that billowed grandly at his wrists, and a dark vest that fell down to the middle of his thighs on top of that. At his waist was tied a torn piece of red and white cloth, to protect his skin from being cut from the thick, brown leather belt he wore on top of it. He wore dark breeches, and huge brown boots that reached up to right under his knees. At his hip swung a sheathed sword, and you saw the butt of a pistol sticking out from under the red and white cloth.

"Most definitely." you said matter-of-factly. He laughed outright at this, throwing his head back in the sand. You sat, confused.

"Most definitely, aye?" he said amusedly. You grinned and nodded. The man shook his head slowly, smiling slightly. He cocked his head to one side and surveyed you curiously.

"What be yer name, boy?"

Shit. A name. You hadn't thought of a name... "Jake." You said that first thing that came to mind. Jake was the name of your older brother back at home.

"Jake, eh? Well, Jake, I be Jack. Jake an' Jack. Heh, I like it. Most people know me as Captain Jack Sparrow, though." You felt your eyes widen.

"THE Captain Jack Sparrow?" you asked incredulously. He grinned and buffed his nails on his chest.

"I see my reputation precedes me, aye? Indeed, that is who I am, cos I can't be anyone but." You frowned, trying to figure out his words, and he laughed again.

"Ye got another name, Jake?" You glanced at him, not certain what he meant. He waved a hand about, searching for the word.

"'Nother name. Ye know. Sparrow... Smith... Mason... Jake what?" you opened your mouth, then shut it again. Jack looked confused.

"No second name? Right then. Jake it is. Only Jake." You nodded, and turned your attention to your leg and stomach. You saw Jack wince and move over closer.

"Yeeeeeeeah... sorry 'bout that lad...." you waved him off, too busy trying to figure out what to do. It stung like nothing else you had ever felt in your life. Jack glanced around the edge of the pier, and scrambled to his feet; quickly he ran down to the water and soaked the long end of his cloth belt in the water. Then he swaggered back up to you.

"Lay down, take off yer shirt." he commanded briskly. Your eyes widened in offense, then you remembered that he thought you were a boy. You stuttered and glanced around.

"Well, uh, naw, that's ok, really. I wouldn't...." Jack rolled his eyes and looked at you.

"Jest lift it up then." You waved a hand feebly, trying to dismiss him. He sighed in exasperation, before leaning over you and pushing you onto your back. He pulled your shirt up to just under the cloth that hid your breasts, and laid the soaking piece of cloth across the newly formed blisters. You protested, then dropped your head back onto the sand.

"Guess we're doin' it your way then." you grumbled. Jack chuckled and gently patted down your abdomen. The burning subsided a little, and you smiled when he glanced up at you.

"Thanks. That seems to do it. I'll be on my way now then..." You were anxious to leave, since you had to find a ship to take you away. It was probably mid morning by now, and soon your mother would take her daily stroll through the market, and the servants would mill about getting supplies. Even thought your disguise had worked so far, you didn't want to test it too much.

"Why ye in such a hurry, lad?" His eyes fell on the rucksack beside you. He cocked one eyebrow, and his mouth opened in realization.

"Runnin' away, are we?" You gulped, worried that he would turn you in, or take you home.

"No! No, I was simply...." Jack chuckled again; a deep rumble within his chest.

"Naw, lad. Yer runnin' away. Don't worry, not takin' ye back home or naught. In fact, why don't ye come back t' me Pearl? If ye lend a hand, I'll take ye t' Tortuga. Not the ideal vacation spot, but enough t' get yer wits together and find another ship. Savvy?" You nodded and beamed. If you remembered your stories correctly... Jack Sparrow captained the infamously deadly Black Pearl. Jack laughed at your eagerness, and glanced over towards where the ships were moored.

"Do ye think we'd be safe headin' over t' me Pearl?" he asked you, still looking out along the beach. You shrugged, thinking about where you were going to go from Tortuga. Jack looked back at you expectantly.

"Speak up, lad."

"Yes. No. I don't know! Hush up." you responded, deep in thought still. Jack grinned, and his gold teeth blinked in the sun.

"Touchy, touchy." You opened your mouth to apologize, but he flitted his fingers carelessly.

"Don't bother, Jakey me boy. Now. Let's get outta here, aye?" He motioned with his hand for you to go first, and you smiled sheepishly. Grabbing your rucksack and clambering out from under the wharf, you glanced around carefully. Not a single guard in sight.

"Jack, it's alright, you can...." You faded off when you realize he was no longer sitting under the pier. Spinning around, you saw him standing behind you, the fingers of his right hand poised gracefully in the air, both eyebrows raised as he looked at you. He grinned when you saw him, and spun around drunkenly. You cocked your head to one side and quirked an eyebrow. He was walking as if he was smashed, although when he had been talking to you, he had seemed completely collected and sober. Hmm. You were expecting many surprises from Jack Sparrow...

* * * *

You had been on Jacks' ship for not even a day, and your muscles were screaming in protest every time you moved. Of course, I didn't help that there were painful blisters now covering your lower stomach and thighs. And that you were feeling unbelievably nauseous. You had mainly worked below deck, scrubbing down the galley and cleaning the crew's cabins. Currently, you were going to get a scrub brush to start scrubbing the upper deck. You staggered over to the small closet where the bucket and brush were, when suddenly you were overcome by sea-sickness. You placed a hand to your throat, and used the other to steady yourself against the doorpost. As if on cue, Jack waltzed up behind you.

"'Ey, Jakey. How's it---" he was cut of as you bolted past him, scampering up the stairs and out into the hot midday sun. You stumbled over to the side of the ship, where you spit into the ocean below. You gulped for air, and heard Jack approach on your right.

"Let it out." he said lightly. You clenched your teeth and shook your head.

"I'm fine..." you gritted out between deep breaths. You were definitely not going to vomit on your first day! Jack laughed, and leaned his back against the rail casually.

"Don't be stupid, boy. No one cares 'ere. They've all done it once." You were still stubbornly shaking your head. Jack sighed and swept his arms wide.

"Look, boy. This be yer first time on a ship, aye?" You nodded, and Jack continued. "Are ye'v been below deck all day, aye?" Once again, you nodded. Jack smacked a palm down on the wood railing.

"Then, as Captain o' this here vessel, I give ye unrequited permission t' spill yer guts t' the sea." he finished triumphantly. You clamped your lips together tightly, and Jack sighed in frustration, throwing his hands in the air.

"Honestly! What does it take!" He walked off, annoyed. As soon as he was out of sight, you retched all the contents of your stomach to the sea. Coughing and spluttering, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

"Heard that..." called Jack from around the corner in a singsong-y voice. You blushed crimson, and spit once more to the waves. Then, hastily, you made your way back down to the galley to rinse your mouth.

* * * *

The rest of the trip to Tortuga had been much of the same. Although, on the last two days aboard the Black Pearl, you managed to not throw up at all. Jack noticed this, and winked at you as he walked by. He had, to his credit, given you jobs above deck from the first day on, which had helped greatly. You slept in the crew's cabins, listening to the raucous singing of twenty drunken men late at night. Needless to say, upon arriving in Tortuga, you were sore, tired, and considering giving it all up and heading back home; back to the comfort of your bed; to your sisters; hell, even to your mother and father. You leaned out over the rail of the ship as you thought about this, and Jack joined you.

"Ye work hard, Jake." It took you a moment or two to realize he was talking to you. You still had not completely adjusted to being the opposite sex. You turned to looked at him, and nodded your thanks.

"Where are ye goin' from 'ere?" Jack asked lightly. You shrugged, toying with the dirty end of your bandana.

"Ye know, ye could stay aboard." You turned and looked at Jack, quirking an eyebrow. Jack nodded and glance over the tumultuous city laid out before the Pearl.

"Few o' me me are stayin' 'ere this time 'round. I'm going t' be about five short. Could use a hard worker like ye." he said matter-of-factly, glancing towards you. You frowned and turned to face the ocean again. Jack continued, except his voice took on a hushed tone, and his normally deep eyes grew black.

"I know what ye want, lad. An' I can guarantee ye yer not goin' t' find it in there." He gestured with his hand flamboyantly towards the chaos of Tortuga.

"Sure, it's a great place. Rum, food, strumpets, heh?" he elbowed you in the ribs, grinning like a cheshire cat in the darkness. You shook your head, then turned to him.

"What if I do stay, Jack?"

"Captain Jack, son." You felt the urge to roll your eyes, but resisted.

"What if I do stay, Captain Jack?" Jack shrugged nonchalantly.

"Then ye stay! Look, son." He turned to face you, his hand flying delicately through the air. "I'm not goin' t' make ye stay. But I'm not about t' push ye off o' me dear ship either, savvy? If ye stay, ye work. And yer free t' leave at any port." He turned back to the rail, resting his forearms on it casually. You thought hesitantly about staying. Eventually Jack would find out that you weren't exactly what you seemed. Then he would be livid. But on the other hand, you could just play it out and see how long you could make it without being discovered. And it would be one hell of a trip along the way.

"Alright Captain. You've got yourself a deal." Jack grinned in the pale moonlight, and thrust his hand into yours, shaking firmly.

"Jest grand." He winked one final time before sashaying - for it could be called nothing but that - down the gangplank and disappearing into the mess of Tortuga. You sighed and stuck your hands deep in your pocket. One of your fingers brushed against something cold and metal, and you suddenly remember the trinket Marie had given you. Pulling it out carefully, you dropped it into your hand. Moving into a slant of light cast by the quarter moon in the sky, you held it up between your two fingers and grinned. It was your sister's old charm. She had worn it about her neck every day since she was seven. She was something else, that kid. She had played with the boys in her youth, discarding fancy dresses and parties in favour of mud, breeches and sticks as swords. The first thing she had done had been to sneak off to the midwife's to ask for a charm to protect her against pregnancy. The old woman had laughed, and handed her the charm, ruffling her hair and telling her she was far too young to be worrying about such things. You clasped the long chain about your neck, and hid it under your tunic carefully.

"I suppose I am to become a pirate."

With that you grinned and clenched your fists excitedly at your side. Then, spinning on your heel, you made your way into Tortuga.

* * * * *

CHAPTER 2 - Years Past

"Well colour me happy, that's one I haven't seen before!" you cried out as Jack grimaced and downed another enormous mouthful of rum. The crew laughed heartily at the scene that had just played out in front of them...

Upon arriving in the tavern, ladies swooned, whores flushed, and men gaped as Jack strutted cockily towards the bar. Grinning and sweeping his arms wide, he addressed the barkeep in a slurred, already half drunken voice.

"Round o' rum fer me men. And make it yer best." You had glanced around, and the rest of the crew had been grinning crazily. Jack swaggered over to a table in the back, and settled himself in the chair against the wall. He picked his feet from the floor to rest them leisurely on the small table. He then leaned back and pulled his tricorne hat down over his forehead.

"And now we wait," he said darkly, a hint of a grin in his voice. You had sighed and rolled your eyes, knowing all too well what he was waiting for.

'Yup, here they come...' you had thought, seeing two scandalously dressed strumpets pick their way towards Jack. The rest of the crew watched in amusement. This was how things normally went at a port. The men never got tired of watching, however.

"What'dya wager, Jakey? Three t'night?" asked one of the men, Lyle. You leaned across the table conspiratorially, and the rest of the men followed suit.

"Naw, I'd wager 'bout five or six. Didn't ye see how many turned when 'e came in?" you countered, eyeing the room carefully.

"Yea, but some o' thems already got their men fer tonight." argued another man who only went by Fletch.

"True, true. Well, I still say three." said Lyle, tossing his coins into the centre of the table.

"Five." you said determinedly, tossing in your gold.

"Jest these two." More coins were tossed in.

"Six."

"Four."

"Twelve."

"Twelve?!" you exclaimed quietly, glancing at the man who had placed the bet. His name was Guy, and he was nodding sagely. You shook your head, but ignored him. Guy was a bit... off. He wasn't quite right in the head.

The first whore had reached the table, and she strode confidently up to Jack. He made no move whatsoever, save for the momentary flash of gold you saw glint under the captain's hat. The girl bent down and whispered delicately into his ear, sliding her hands across his shoulder. You looked at this girl curiously, wondering what on earth Jack saw in them. She was nothing special, to be sure. She was packed tightly into a deep red dress, her breasts practically spilling out of the corset she was bound by. Her face was pinched and sour looking; her eyes cold and severe. She had a vivid splash of rouge covering her cheeks, and kohl lining her eyes carefully. Chuckling, you noticed that Jack was actually wearing more of the stuff than the girl was. She was sitting in his lap proper now, pressing her breasts almost to his face. You snorted back a laugh as you saw the other whore frown, and immediately appear at Jack's other side. Tiring of these antics, you had turned to see if there was to be rum soon. As luck would have it, the barmaid was carrying them over right now. You grinned and grabbed a mug from her, gulping it down greedily. Jack must have noticed the arrival of the alcohol as well, because he sat up straight, pushing the tip of his hat back from his face with one grimy finger. You saw a grin light his face and it darkened his eyes even more. Glancing at him over the rim of your mug, you saw his normally brown eyes were almost black, and clouded with lust. He had the two whores on his lap now; they had appeared to have reached a truce of sorts. And two more were on their way. You shook your head and downed some more rum.

"So, Jakey." said Lyle abruptly. You raised your eyebrows in response, placing your rum down on the table.

"Any chance o' tellin' us where the Captain's headed?" He wiggled his eyebrows convincingly, but you shook your head firmly. "Told ye guys, didn't I? I don't know where Jack be headed." The rest of the crew snorted disbelievingly.

"Why don't ye trust me? I told ye!" Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed that there were now four women hovering around Jack, touching him and cooing softly. You turned your attention back to the crew.

"But yer his first mate! O' course he's told ye! He tells ye everything!" they whined. It was an old argument, one that they knew the outcome to before it began. They knew you knew, you knew they knew you knew, and so on, ad infinitum. But it went the same way every time: you pretended not to know, and they whined for a while about it. They never got it out of you. You were about to go off on your usual speech, when something very interesting caught your eye. Hushing the men with your hand, you motioned soundlessly. Every single one of their eyes lit up gleefully when they noticed what you had motioned towards, and they watched anxiously. Approaching Jack slowly was a young man. He had his long black hair pulled roughly into a tie at the base of his neck. He was dressed in a sailor's uniform, and was making a beeline for Jack and his whores. Jack was too preoccupied to notice, and was now mumbling sweet words and naughty sayings into the girl's ears. They giggled, and continued to paw at his body shamelessly. Soon the man was standing directly behind one of the whores. He appeared to be completely oblivious to you and the rest of the men staring. You stifled a chuckle when you noticed the poor lad's laboured breathing, and clouded eyes. He taped the whore who was standing in front of him carefully on the shoulder. She turned, delicate smile plastered on his lips. When she saw the boy, her face fell and turned ugly.

"Scram, boy. I've already got business." Then, smiling sweetly once more, she turned back to Jack. The man paused for a moment, before pulling the woman back by the train of her dress. She squealed and glared, but the man didn't care. He was at Jack's side now, his eyes never leaving the pirate captain. Jack, being completely absorbed in the antics of his girls, did not notice the switch on his left. The man leaned over, saying something quietly in Jack's ear. You saw his head rise about a half-inch, and the telltale flash of gold from under his hat once more. He placed his rum down, and adjusted the two girls on his hip. The man ran his fingers along the back of Jack's neck, and continued to speak lowly into Jack's ear. For his part, Jack absentmindedly ignored the three other women, both on and around him, cocking his head to the side to listen to the man. Who, by the looks of it, Jack had no idea was a man. Guy looked as if he was about to speak up, but Fletch and another man named Bill grabbed him, clapping their hands over his mouth. A muffled noise came from Guy, but you ignored it. This was much too humorous an opportunity to pass up.... Jack would never, ever, in his life live this down. Jack spoke finally, his voice low and gruff, but loud enough that you and your comrades could hear him.

"...and what might that be, me sweet gel?" The man pressed a chaste kiss to the nape of Jack's neck, whispering into Jack's ear once more. Jacks' head bolted up, his grin disappearing falteringly. He caught your eye, and you winked and nodded slowly.

Turning his head, Jack slowly glanced up at his admirer. The man did not smile, nor did he frown. He seemed to be in too much of a state to do either. He simply leaned down to press a kiss to Jack's temple. Jack cast a look at you frantically, his hands already dancing uncertainly at his side. You sighed, sad to see the spectacle come to an end. Ah, well. All good things must. Motioning to Guy, he stood and walked over to the man, tapping him on the shoulder. The man turned, and Guy grinned.

"Sorry mate, he's mine fer tonight." The man scowled and made to turn back to Jack, but Guy grabbed him by the back of his shirt.

"Excuse me. I don't think ye heard me. He's mine." Jack looked at you once more, slightly amused at the two men apparently fighting over who got him for the night. You shook your head disbelievingly as the man wandered off, and Guy resumed his seat at the table. Lyle slapped him heartily on the back, grinning.

"Good job, mate. Almost believable that was." You grinned and slammed back another mouthful of rum. Jack placed his feet down and grabbed his mug with both hands.

"Well colour me happy, that's one I haven't seen before!" you cried out as Jack grimaced and downed another enormous mouthful of rum. The men laughed heartily, and you noticed one of the quieter ones, Matthew, sneak off after the man who had tried to woo Jack. You smiled slightly, but said nothing. Let him have his fun...

"So, who bet four?" said Jack gruffly, glancing up at the large pile of gold in the centre of the table.

"I did!" cried Fletch eagerly, reaching for the gold. You shook your head and grabbed his wrist.

"Ah, but it was five, aye? What about our dear Captain's last seducer?" The men nodded in agreement, and Fletch reluctantly sat back down. You grinned and swept the gold into your arms, carefully piling it into your leather pouch.

"So, Jack...." you stared, still putting your money into your bag. Jack grunted and glared at you, looking pointedly at the rest of the men. He could care less about what you called him when it was just you and him; you had known his for way to long for him to care any more. Besides, you were his first mate. Sighing, you stared again.

"So, Captain, does this mean you will be forsaking your 'pleasurable company' fer tonight?" Jack looked up, appalled, for a moment his rum forgotten. You smiled and put the last coin in your pouch, tie it tightly.

"Suppose not." you answered your own question. Jack grinned and leaned back once more, twirling one long elegant finger in the braids swinging from his chin. He looked at you curiously, and you knew what he was going to ask. He asked every time.

"Jakey me boy, why don't ye get one tonight? Have a little fun?" You snorted and buried your face in your mug, hiding the furious blush that had risen. Jack, still having no idea of your sex, had taken in the last few years to pushing whores in your lap. Whores who, unfortunately, also thought you were male. You had taken your fair share of nibbling, sweet-talking, and massages. Every time you had pushed them off in disgust, feeling a shudder run through your body at the touch of the strumpet. Jack had always laughed when this happened.

"Jake, yer too uptight sometimes. Need a good lay. C'mere. See that one? That one looks pretty good. Aye? Aye. Oy! Lass! O'er here!" he called the last part out loudly, motioning with his hand towards your table. Your eyes widened as she swayed over, adjusting her hair surreptitiously. Jack grinned and slung an arm around your shoulder.

"This'll be the night, lad. In all the years I known ye, I never once seen ye with a woman. Ah. Yes. This lad right here." Jack let go of your shoulder, and moved away to let the girl do her work. You saw her eye Jack to the side, but she moved quickly into your lap. Casting an apprehensive look over your shoulder, you saw Jack lounging back and grinning at you. You scowled and squirmed as the girl ran her fingers along your neck.

"Look, ye know, maybe ye could jest, ye know, get off...." you mumbled. The girl sat back and looked at you curiously, and your breath caught in your throat. No mistaking it. There was no one in the universe, save for you, who had grey eyes like that. And such deep eyes they were. Full of a world of insight and knowledge. The girl, your sister, frowned, confused at why you wanted her to stop. You grabbed her wrist and swung her off you, striding quickly away from the table. You heard Jack cry out behind you.

"Oy, men! Ol' Jack's finally done it! Found a girl fer our Jake! Play nice!" he called out loudly to your retreating back, but you ignored him, dragging the girl behind you to the staircase in the back. She protested momentarily, but covered it with a nervous giggle. She obviously thought the same as Jack did. You winced and quickened your step. Once you were in the darkened stairwell, you stopped. Your sister ran right into you, and apologized profusely. You waved your hand about impatiently, craning your neck to make sure no one was watching. Satisfied that you were hidden, you swung back to face your sister.

"Marie!" you hissed, grabbing her by her shoulder. She looked surprised, and smiled nervously.

"Oh my good man, I am not Marie. You may call me Isabella." She patted her hair nervously, and you sighed.

"Marie, it's me. It's your big sister. You're my Marie!" you looked imploringly into her eyes, and she frowned. Her eyes grew wary, and she stepped out of your arms range. She scrutinized you carefully, jutting out a hip to place her hand on, her other hand pulling at her lip. She shook her head and waved her hand feebly.

"I don't believe you." You groaned and dug your hand inside the neck of your tunic, feeling around for the damn pregnancy charm she had given you all those years ago. Feeling your fingers close over it, you pulled it above your shirt and showed it to her.

"Eh? Believe me now?" you asked and she reached forward, her eyes wide. Slowly she nodded, her fingers tracing the small charm lovingly. You dropped the charm back in your shirt, and cupped your baby sister's face in your hands.

"Marie..." you said softly, "It's me." She finally smiled, and you saw the girl you once knew shine bright for a moment, she threw her arms around your neck, hugging you tightly. You responded with a slight 'oof,' and hugged her back. You had so many questions... how mother and father were, where the real Jake was, how Isabelle was doing... and definitely not least of all, why she was, for lack of a better word, a whore. You were surprised to find her shoulders were shuddering under your arms, and muffled subs were coming from her. Marie never cried! You held a hand to the back of her head, and wrapped the other securely around her middle.

"Shh, shush love. I'm here. And we'll take ye with us, savvy? Sound good? I'm not leaving you to work like this... not my Marie. Shh, there ye go sweet... c'mon then, we'll take ye back ' the ship." You ran your fingers through her hair, knotted and greasy. She sniffled and stood up, looking at you with watery eyes. You smiled and kissed her on the nose like you always used to. She laughed weakly, wiping her running eyes and nose on the back of her hand. You grabbed her other hand, and pulled her behind you as you weaved back through the pub. Suddenly remembering a key detail, you spun back around and pulled her close to you.

"Oh yes. And Marie? Pretend I'm a man unless we're by ourselves." She looked surprised, but nodded swiftly. You grinned and continue to make your way out of the tavern. You vaguely heard Jack called out before you left.

"Ye can use the Captn's Quarter's tonight, lad!" His shout was followed by a loud bout of chuckling, but you ignored him, per usual. There were seldom times when you actually took Jack seriously, or really paid attention to what he said. You knew when he was saying something important, and you simply let the rest fly past you. You ushered Marie back to the Pearl, which was moored at the very end of the dock. It was still as grand as it had been when you had first spotted it years ago. Marie grew silent in awe as you strode aboard the mighty vessel, and you couldn't help but feel a tug of pride inside of you. You hurried across deck, hoping to not catch the attention of the watch on deck. You were lucky; he was nowhere to be seen. Which, actually, wasn't that great, when you thought about it. What if you were some unfriendly person trying to commandeer the ship? But pirates. No counting on them at all.

You strode into you room, instead of taking advantage of Jack's offer to use his quarters. Closing the door and sliding the lock in place, you motioned for Marie to sit on the bed. She did so with a grand ruffle of her skirts and a sharply indrawn breath. You frowned and she waved her hand around her chest, placing the other along her ribs.

"Bloody corset. No idea how they do it. Help me out of this?" You nodded and walked over, kneeling on the bed behind her. She placed her hands on her hips, hanging her head forward. You swept her long hair off of her neck, working the thick ties loose.

"So, Marie..." you began, but she cut you off with a groan, her shoulders slumping. You cocked and eyebrow.

"What?"

"Nothing. It's just... I know that tone. I'm in for a long night of questioning, aren't I?" You smiled slightly, going back to releasing her from her corset. She was right of course.

"Well, dear... I have to ask, ye know. Ye were working in a pub, and such a bright and noble girl such as yerself would never normally be seen in such an establishment. Would ye care t'---" Marie cut you off once more, this time by a small giggle. You sighed, dropping your hands to your lap. Wiping a stray wisp of hair from your face, you rolled your eyes.

"What now?"

"Well, it's only that, you talk somewhat like the pirate you seem to be, but you use words like 'establishment,' and 'noble girl.' And you speak with quite the noble air. You haven't really changed an ounce, you know?" She twisted her head around to smile and kiss your nose affectionately. You rolled your eyes once more and tugged on her laces abruptly. She gasped, and coughed in protest.

"Yer avoiding me question, dear sister." you sang cheerily. She grumbled some, before sighing dramatically.

"Alright, alright. But it's quite the long tale. Make yourself comfortable." You began to shift on the bed, and she hastened to continue. "After you've made me comfortable by taking off this damned corset!" You grinned and released the last of the laces, her chest expanding with relief. She stood quickly and whipped it off. You tossed her an extra pair of your clothes, and she tugged them on over her head, her hair now mussed and trailing from its delicate flower. She flashed you a quick grin, and crawled up on the bed next to you. You grabbed a pillow, sitting crossed legged at the head of the bed. She lounged on her stomach facing you, head held up by her hands.

"It all started with father." she began, taking on the air of a narrator. "He started coming home later and later, claiming to be held up at work. I knew of course. I made it a point to know everything that was going on. I was thirteen... what else was there to do? All the other girls my age were taking etiquette lessons, learning how to do useless things like stitch and mend and cook and clean and so forth. I refused to go. Goodness gracious, you should have seen the fit mother threw! However, the one dad threw, in juxtaposition to hers, was even worse. I suspect he was slightly drunk. He kept slurring his words, stopping suddenly in the middle of his sentences to stare out the window, forgetting what he was talking about. Quite the interesting argument that was... "My dear, you are NOT------ what was I saying, sweet?" I would reply "I have refused to go to etiquette school, and you were saying what I was not, father," and he would suddenly snap to, shaking his head. "Of course." he would huff, and it was all I could do not to giggle. And he actually, I'm not sure if you'll believe this, but he said that without taking the proper studies, I would end up like one of the whores in the pubs in town." Your eyebrows shot straight upwards, and Marie nodded knowingly. "He said it." You were shocked... you could never imagine your father saying something like that to Marie. Perhaps you, but never Marie!

Marie grinned somewhat lopsidedly, staring off into the distance thoughtfully. "I suppose he was right though, eh?" she chuckled, and you hit her with the pillow swiftly.

"Not funny." She grinned and continued with her tale before you could whack her again.

"Now, where was I before I was so rudely interrupted..... ah yes. Father. He had been coming home later and later, and mother knew nothing. I didn't tell her." "Tell her what?" you interjected curiously. Marie twirled her hair absently. "That father had taken a mistress."

"He'd taken a MISTRESS?!?!" you exclaimed shrilly, before clapping a hand over your mouth. Marie nodded.

"Remember your tutor? Mr. Levee?" You nodded, still unbelieving. "Well, he past away not long after you left. His widow used to come around for tea, to talk with mother. They were quite close, you will remember. She would linger even after mother had to leave, chatting with father. One night there was a huge fight between mother and father, I only heard bits and pieces. But from what I did gather, mother was suspecting something. So Mrs. Mason-formerly-Levee (for she went back to her maiden name) stopped coming around for tea. And father started coming home later. I managed to put two and two together, and I was proven right when he was discovered."

"He was discovered??" you asked hushedly. That would mean devastating effects for your family... their status... Marie nodded, dropping onto her back and laying her head on the pillow in your lap.

"He was." she said grimly, closing her eyes. "And the town turned on us. One day, pride of Kingsbury, the next..." she flurried her fingers absently, mocking a retreating figure, "fleeing. Of course, it was only myself and father who left. Mother, being the victim, was sympathized with. And her 'poor, sweet little innocent' daughter--"

"Isabelle?" you interjected quickly. Marie nodded.

"The people weren't too impressed with me as it were; I worked and earned money like a man. Father and I made it as far as this lovely little town before we could not stand each other anymore. He was constantly lecturing, telling me how to live my life. This, coming from a man who had been caught in the arms of a widow, with his wife and children at home." She spoke with disgust, her face contorting into a sneer. "Hypocrite. He left me with a few hundred shillings, and got on the next ship to goodness knows where. Soon enough my money ran out... and I ended u in that quaint establishment you saw me in. And in such a state too!" she grimaced and felt her greasy hair. You smiled sadly and idly toyed with a stray lock.

"And Jake? Where's Jake?" you asked curiously. Marie sighed hugely and you saw her eyes roll under her lids.

"Goodness knows where! He hasn't been home in ages. The last time he was home, it had only been a few months since you had left. We haven't seen hide nor hair of him since." You nodded, processing this information.

"And mother? Where is she now?"

"Still in Kingsbury, I suppose. Last I heard, she had taken a place beside the one and only Lord Grayson." She grinned mischievously, and you gasped.

"No! Jason?? The one she tried to marry me to? I can't believe it!" Marie opened one eyes to look at you. She grinned and nodded. You sat back against the headboard, hand tugging at your lip, as was your habit.

"I don't believe it! Jason of all people! Well!" Marie nodded, and rolled over with a groan.

"And now, dearest sister, if you are quite done interrogating me, I would love to get some sleep." She eyed the rich comforters that Jack had ordered recently eagerly. You hopped off the bed, and she sighed gratefully, sliding between the covers.

"We'll talk more about this tomorrow, aye?" you asked. She nodded, and covered a yawn with her hand delicately. You grinned and kissed her lightly on her cheek.

"And do not forget: I am first mate, and me name's Jake. And tomorrow, Jack'll probably make some lewd comment about myself and you. We're just going to have to deal with that, alright?" she nodded dreamily, already half-asleep. You slipped in next to her, and immediately felt dreams tug at your subconscious. Leaning over to blow out the candle that stood on the small table next to the bed, you relaxed and fell asleep next to your favourite person in the world.

* * * * *

CHAPTER 3 - Some Rum, a Raid, and a Ring

You awoke to a pair of cold feet pressed up against the back of your legs. You squirmed and sat up, blearily blinking the sleep from your eyes. Turning around, you smiled at the sight of your sister. She was splayed out across the bed, her hair tangled and crazy. She still wore the clothes you had lent her, her old dress hanging over the back of the chair. You stood up, securing the door with the bolt. Then, you tugged off your shirt and reached for the pile of linen strips that was stuffed into a small drawer in your desk. Wrapping it around your chest in a routine motion, you pulled your shirt back on over top. You then tied your bandana around your head, and grabbed Marie's old dress. You were planning to clean it and sell it at the market that morning. Marie would obviously be staying with you, and use your clothes. She would definitely not be using that kind of dress anymore...

You slipped out of your room silently, closing the door carefully. You spun around, and had to clap a hand over your mouth to keep from shouting out. Jack was leaning casually against the side of the arched overhang, quirky grin in place. His smile widened at your expression, and you scowled good-naturedly.

"Trust ye had quite the time last night...." drawled Jack suggestively. You grimaced and shook your head, sweeping past him. He chuckled lowly and followed you down into the galley. He stood and watched as you dropped the dress into a large bucket, filling a pot with water and setting it over the small oven. You reached over and grabbed five or so eggs, cracking them and spilling the contents onto a thin metal sheet. Jack chuckled and folded his arms.

"Sure, Jake. I'll have eggs. Wasn't really hungry, but alright." You looked over, raising your eyebrows.

"You want some? I wasn't making any for you, but alright." You reached over for another few eggs. Jack laughed and waltzed over to stand next to you, lounging against the wooden cabinets.

"How was the girl last night?" you asked lightly, watching your eggs with one eye, the other on him. He grinned and ran his tongue over his bottom lip in memory.

"Quite the gel. Much more wild than others I've had, fer sure. She did this thing with her tongue where she--" you held up a hand and turned your face to the oven. "Please, spare me, Jack." Jack chuckled and fell silent. You flipped the eggs, feeling languid.

"So how was yer gel? Did I pick a good 'un?" You rolled your eyes in disgust at the thought. You turned to face him, and saw him looking at you curiously, his trademark eyebrow cocked.

"How is it with ye and the ladies, Jake me boy?" You flushed and turned back to the oven. Jack continued without quarter.

"I mean, ye can tell ol' Jack anything, aye? Are ye not too well endowed? Eunuch? Flying the flag for the other ship? Battlin' fer the other team? Sleepin' with---" You snorted, holding a hand to your face. Jack stopped and laughed as well.

"I jest want t' know lad. Can't believe we ne'er had this conversation before now, actually." He looked at you curiously, and you looked back, trying hard not to laugh. Several years ago, if someone had told you would have a conversation with an eccentric pirate captain about your sexuality while he thought you were male, you would have laughed and kindly pointed them in the direction of Dr. Patrick's. You shook your head, scraping the eggs off of the sheet and onto a chipped plate. You walked into the galley and placed the plate down on one of the tables. Jack followed the entire time. You turned, going to head back to the kitchen and pour the hot water in the bucket with the dress. You came face to face with Jack, and he grinned persuasively. You scoffed and walked around him, and he turned and followed you once more.

"I'm jest curious, Jakey. If ye want me t' stop talkin' 'bout it, that's fine." You turned, raising your eyebrows disbelievingly. He nodded vigourously, and you chuckled. "Fine then. Jack: please stop talking about it." You turned and returned to the kitchen, Jack in tow.

"Sure thing mate." You shook your head and checked the water. Sticking a finger in tentatively, you decided it was hot enough. Wrapping a cloth around the handle, you hauled it over to the side of the kitchen and poured it into the bucket with the dress. Steam rose as you poured it in. you pushed the dress right underwater, so it was completely soaked, and returned the pot to the stove. Once again, Jack stood directly in your path. You made a frustrated noise in your throat, and addressed him. "Jack! Go make yourself useful somewhere!" He only grinned and stepped out of your way.

'I am perpetually surrounded by psychotic people. Just grand.' You would never understand the strangeness that was Jack, instead you just dealt with it. Good grief, that man was odd!

"Lad, I'm tryin' t' ask ye summat! Do ye not fancy women?" You pivoted and glared at him, but he didn't back down.

"I thought you were done with this." You growled, plopping down to eat your breakfast. Jack sat opposite you, reaching over to the counter and grabbing a fork. You ate slowly and delicately, with Jack occasionally reaching over to stab some off of your plate with his fork. Jack looked up at you, and you put your fork down. He really wasn't going to drop this.

"Jake, ye know I don't care, right mate?" You nodded sulkily and prodded your eggs with your fork. Jack reached over and wrenched the fork from your fingers.

"It's not a big deal, Jack. Just leave me be." Jack sat still, looking at you. You looked back, straight into his dark eyes. He wasn't angry, or confused, or being nosy. He was being Jack. The real Jack that people seldom knew. He was pirate through and through, indeed, but he had a great capacity for compassion. He was the closest friend you had ever had beside Marie. You had always told him everything. Except, of course, for the tiny detail that you were a woman. You still had no clue how he hadn't figured you out yet, as he was terribly clever. But he gave you your space. He respected you as a human being. After the first month or so aboard his ship, in which you worked harder than any member on board, he had spoken to you as an equal. You sighed, defeated.

"Alright Jack. You win." Jack reached over and chucked your chin up, grinning. "Not something to win mate. Ye don't have t' tell me."

"Alright, alright. I'm telling you! So listen." He obliged and leaned back in his chair.

"I don' fancy women." You saw a flash of a grin pass over Jack's face; a grin of triumph. You continued. "And I don't fancy men either." Jack now frowned, holding up an index finger, eyes darting back and forth in confusion.

"Wait now, ye say ye don't like either?" You nodded, and Jack scratched his chin thoughtfully.

"But ye must prefer one. I mean, ye can't just not like any, right?" You shrugged, grabbing your fork back from him and wolfing down the rest of your food.

"Which do ye have sex with?" You coughed and turned red, and Jack chuckled.

"Both? Best o' both worlds kind o' thing?"

"I don't." you said shortly, returning to your food.

"Ye don't what? Don't do both? Which one then?"

"Neither." Jack looked at you blankly, not understanding. You shook your head and scooped up another forkful of eggs.

"Ohhhhhhhh..." Jack realized what you meant, and he lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Ye mean.... ye haven't.... ye don't...."

"Nope." Jack sat back in his seat, whistling lowly under his breath.

"And all these years, I've been pushing whores down yer front." You shrugged, offering him your plate. He shook his head, distracted.

"Why didn't ye say summat?" You shrugged again, and Jack fell into a contemplative silence (of which he had surprising many of). Suddenly he spoke up again, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes and smile slightly.

"Le's say, hypothetically speakin', ye were t' fall in love. Which one..." he faded off, eyeing you curiously. You were chocking, pounding your hand to your chest and holding a hand up.

"Ye alright there lad?" asked Jack in half-amusement. You shot him a dirty look before reaching up on the counter to grab a bottle of liquor. Taking a few gulps, you managed to steady your coughing. Jack reached over to claim the bottle as his before quirking an eyebrow.

"Now what the hell was that?" You swallowed carefully, waving your hand about. "Nothing, nothing. Sorry. So, um, let's get up on deck shall we?" You made to get up, but Jack held up his hands.

"Hold up. I was askin' ye a question. I asked if, hypothetically, o' course, ye were t' fall in love, which---" You stood up abruptly, grabbing your plate and fork and hurrying into the kitchen. You set the plate down, leaning over the sink. There he goes, making a nice conversation ('well, not nice, per se,' you thought amusedly) and then he ruins it all by talking about Love. How ridiculous. If someone asked you what you were afraid of, you would reply with a bold "nothing." For you feared nothing real, nothing physical. Nothing alive. The only thing you feared (besides Death) was Love. Actually, you were more afraid of Love than Death. The idea that someone else could control how you felt, how your body acted, how you thought even, was absolutely terrifying. Any talk of Love set you off, your heart beating frantically. As Jack had mentioned it, you had felt an uncontrollable urge to race from the room, to scream and yell as loud as you could, pressing your hands over your ears tightly. You started as you heard Jack walked into the kitchen. Immediately you stood up, looking around for something to do. Jack opened his mouth to say something, but you beat him to it.

"Well, big day ahead of us, eh? Better get this cleaned up." You grabbed the bucket with Marie's dress in it, making for the door. Jack frowned and stepped out of the way.

"Uh, suppose I'll see ye on deck later? Aye. Later. Right then." You turned and hurried out from the kitchen, leaving Jack standing bewildered behind you.

* * * *

You spent the rest of the day doing busy work, and eventually forgot about the rather disturbing conversation you had with Jack. Marie had finally agreed (after much grumbling and whispered threats) to stay in your cabin for the day until you could think of a good explanation of why she was still aboard. You were sitting at the helm, holding the wheel. Jack had asked you to hold the Pearl on course as he set about to do a routine check for supplies. Suddenly you heard a loud eruption from below deck. Turning about quickly, you heard several raised voices, the most pronounced of which was Jack's. It was hard to make out what he was saying, however. Soon he came into view, storming angrily up the stairs and onto the deck. All men stopped their work to move out of his way. Best not to get in his path when he was in a foul mood... several of the men had learned that the hard way. You did too. You winced at the memory, carefully feeling the crescent-shaped scars on your upper arms from where he had grabbed you so hard. Looking up, you bit your lip when you noticed he was approaching you. Hastily, you looped the long rope around one of the knobs on the wheel and stepped off to the side. Jack cast you an angry glance, before softening and motioning for you to take the wheel again. You did so, careful to stay quiet and out of his way. Matthew was in tow, wringing his hands fretfully and gnawing on his bottom lip. Lyle sauntered on up after him, throwing you a wink and twirling his index finger around his temple, rolling his eyes. You smiled nervously, glancing at Jack to see if he had noticed. He hadn't. He was standing by the railing, leaning on his hands tensely. Matthew made to approach him cautiously, but you reached out and grabbed him, shaking your head slightly. Best to let Jack do the talking. After the pirate captain had breathed in a few deep breaths, he spun around to glare daggers at Matthew. The poor lad cringed and shook under your hand. You couldn’t help but grin at the impressive force presented in front of you. Jack, seeing your expression, shot you such a cold look that it was immediately wiped right off of your face. He returned his eyes to Matthew.

"How could this have happened?" he asked dangerously. Matthew looked up to you, unsure if he should answer. You nodded and squeezed his shoulder. He turned his pale, mousy face back to Jack, clenching his hands tightly.

"Well, Captain, it--it was j-j-jest a little t-t-echnical... jest a technical err-error..." You quirked an eyebrow and glanced to Lyle for explanation. He saw your curious look and mouthed 'rum' over to you. You nodded in understanding. Of course. Only rum could get Jack so riled up. Your guess was that Matthew had miscalculated when he was making rounds last time, and didn't get as much rum as was needed. And now, here you were, two days from any port, and more importantly, any rum. Ooooh, this would indeed be interesting...

"Technical error, eh?" repeated Jack quietly. Matthew nodded zealously, and Jack meandered over to him, his eyes flashing. You cringed and felt sorry for the lad. Wasn't his fault really... well, you supposed it was, but Jack did drink unreasonable amounts of rum, and perhaps the neophyte pirate had simply forgotten to take that into account. Perhaps.

"I don't allow technical errors on my ship, young Matthew." It was remarkable how clearly he spoke when he was angry. Were it not for his attire and his demeanor, he could fit into a civilized conversation with that kind of speech. Lyle sighed dramatically and stepped between Jack and Matthew with a flourish. Jack rolled his eyes in exasperation; Lyle was always the one to keep Jack from his fun, or so he put it. He always grumbled that you and Lyle were the only thing keeping him from true bliss, but you knew he was only complaining for the sake of it. At any rate, it looked like Lyle was definitely going to put a halt to this one pretty quickly.

"Ye heard the man, Jack." Jack bristled at being addressed in such a way by a member of his crew. Lyle continued as if he didn't notice the murderous look in his Captain's eyes. Lyle was one of the two members onboard the Pearl who dared to call Jack by his name alone, and to address him in such a manner. The other was you.

"Simply a technical error. And not a hard one to make, considering the absurd amounts of rum you consume on a daily basis. We'll simply head to the nearest port to get rum. Sound good?"

"Nearest port's over two days away, what with the wind behind us and whatnot." you said without thinking. Lyle shot you a look that said 'thanks-that-really-helped-the-situation-here-Mister-I-always-have-to-put-in-my-two-pence.' Jack's eyes widened in alarm, and he opened his mouth to protest when a cry came from up above you all.

"Ship ho! Starboard side!" You shielded your eyes from the mid-day sun and squinted up at the crows nest. Fletch was waving eagerly, pointing off in the distance. You grabbed your telescope, placing it to your eyes. You trained it on the small dot on the horizon, recognizing it immediately as a trade ship. A sudden idea formed in your mind... Jack snatched the looking glass from your hands, holding it to his eyes.

"Jack...." you began, catching his glare and correcting yourself. "Captain Sparrow, I do believe that is a trade ship. Bound to be rum aboard." Jack spun around, crooked grin plastered across his face. You heard Matthew sigh in relief behind you, and Lyle caught your eye and grinned. Jack swaggered up to the helm, completely composed now. Then, casual and cool as a cucumber, he glanced back and called out to you.

"Jakey me boy, alert the crew. We're boarding that there vessel." He grinned, and you mock saluted him and walked off to prepare. Matthew scurried away in front of you, and Lyle fell in step beside you.

"Nice work." he commented, glancing at you appraisingly. You tipped an imaginary hat to him, nodding briskly. He chuckled and hurried off below to ready the cannons, and you snuck off into your cabin. Marie sat up as you walked in, smiling gleefully. She looked much more like her old self, her hair pulled back loosely around her neck, comfortable in your clothes still. You smiled and closed the door.

“How’s life above deck?” she queried, walking over to sit next to you on the bed. You shrugged.

“Sam as usual. On’y we’re making a stop pretty soon.” Marie’s eyes lit up.

“Oh! We’ve reached a port then?” You shook your head.

“No, we’re boarding a ship. Trader. Matthew miscalculated the rations and our poor captain’s out of rum.” Marie’s eyes widened, and she gripped your arm tightly.

“You’re going to sack a ship?” You nodded, absent-mindedly rubbing the back of your head. You had completely forgotten what you had come to talk to her about... Marie shook your arm, effectively getting your attention.

“But those are innocent people!” You sighed. You should have expected this.

“Marie, we’re pyrates here.”

“That’s no excuse to be intolerably rude!” You sighed once more.

“Alright. I’ll leave them enough to make it back to shore.” Marie didn’t reply, only ‘hmphed’ and walked back over to your desk. You stood to leave, but then remembered what you came for in the first place.

“Oh, yes. And Marie, I need you to stay here. Even if a fight breaks out. Stay here. Got it?” she nodded sulkily, bitter at having to be shut up in a cabin all day. You grinned and waltzed out of the room, heading off to prepare the crew.

* * * *

As the distance closed between the Pearl and the trade ship, you began to feel the familiar rush of adrenaline pump through your veins, lighting a fire deep within you that spurred you forward. Jack was much the same. He appeared to have completely forgotten about the rum incident, and was contently striding across the deck, barking out orders to his crew.

"Man the cannons! Fly the jolly roger! And for goodness sakes, Micheal, put some pants on! This isn't a bloody beach resort! If I ever see those shorts again I'm goin' t' burn 'em." You chuckled at his last comment, and smiled as he walked towards you, shaking his head.

"Honestly, Jake, I don't understand that boy." You popped an eyebrow and didn't reply. Jack sighed dramatically, before rubbing his palms together in excitement.

"Ah yes, I love the feel of a raid. Never gets old, this. Never." You grinned and nodded in agreement, and Jack waltzed off with a tip of his hat. Probably to harass poor Micheal about his shorts some more. The ship came into complete focus now, and you could see it was a small Corsican ship, riding low in the water. That meant it was well stocked. The name scrawled across the side was almost illegible for the algae and barnacles, but you made it out to say "Viva Revolución." You grinned. Great. The Spanish. They were always a delightful bunch. You noticed the ship slowing and saw the crew racing about on deck. Jack strode purposefully to the helm, grabbing a hold of the wheel and guiding the Pearl alongside the smaller vessel. The Spanish ship had come to all but a complete stop, the Captain standing stoically by the wheel. The Pearl, having too much momentum, shot past its prey, and Jack circled her around, shouting orders to let down the sails. Soon the ship was floating listlessly alongside the traders. Jack waved down a gangplank, and waltzed drunkenly across. He was exaggerating, to be sure, but that was his way. Crazy until proven otherwise. You strolled across after him, followed by Lyle and a few other members of our crew. They placed themselves along the ship, watching the Spanish men warily, hands on their swords. Jack bowed to the Captain, sweeping his tricorne hat off of his head with a grand flourish of his restless hands the Spanish Captain looked startled, bowing back swiftly and stiffly. Jack grinned, motioning to you to go do what you did best: assess the goods and decide what was worthy of taking. Before you left, he leaned over and grabbed your forearm, whispering harshly into your ear.

"Don't forget the rum, lad. The rum's the most important." You grinned and moved off below deck, putting on a vicious and merciless face as you stalked past the assorted crewmembers. They quailed and looked down at their feet. Once down below deck, you grinned and pulled out your pistol.

'Goddess, I love this job...' you thought as you tried the handle of the door to your right. Locked. Stepping back two paces, you leveled the barrel of your pistol at the handle and fired a shot. It blew apart, and the door swung open noiselessly. You grabbed one of the lanterns from the table nearby, and strode into the dark and dank storage room. You stopped for a moment only a few feet from the door, allowing time for your eyes to adjust to the darkness. When you were able to peer through the darkness, you saw stacks and stacks of crates, some carelessly propped up by another, of all various sizes. It smelt vaguely of spiced, a soft smell that nonetheless masked other unpleasant odours. You pushed aside empty boxes and ducked under beams, making your way into the middle of the room. You turned slowly, wondering where to start. Jack would definitely be sore if he didn’t get his rum... You turned around once more, and you head connected painfully with yet another beam. You cursed wildly and held a hand to your head, hastily placing the oil lamp on the beam above. You held your head in your hands, a stream of foul language still flowing. Suddenly you heard something metal clang onto the floor, and was followed by the soft whirl of it rolling around. You frowned, and one hand still to your head, you picked up the lamp again. Holding it high, you quickly scanned the ground around your feet. Something glinted a few feet away, and you made for it, curious. Bending down, you grabbed the thing and held it to the lamp. It was a ring.

“Where the hell did this come from?” you mutter, turning the small object around in your fingers. It is tiny for a ring, maybe only able to fit your baby finger, if that. It was silver, tarnished with age but still beautiful. The ring was wrapped in amazingly delicate strands of the silver, twirling together around each other. In the center sat a beautiful gem, which appeared blue-green in the darkness. You held it to the light, and saw that it was the exact colour of the ocean outside. Something inside of it even resembled the sea, thrashing and rocking steadily, all encased inside that tiny gem. Curled around the stone was a dragon, its head meeting its tail.

You frowned and slipped it on you finger, gasping as a surge of energy passed through your body, followed closely by a tingle racing up your spine. Your senses suddenly became so much more astute; the smell of spices becoming only a small hint, and the smell of blood, piss, and smoke filled your nostrils. It was all you could do to not gag. You felt a greater sense of your surroundings, and had the sudden impression that if you wee to close your eyes and head for the stairs, you wouldn’t hit a thing. Even despite the blasted low hanging beams.

Then, as quickly as it happened, it died away, leaving you a little more than confused. You stared down at the peculiar ring in bewilderment, and then quickly slipped it off of your finger. Feeling no different, you hesitantly slid it back on. But nothing. No matter how many times you slid it off and on your finger, you did not experience the strange feeling that you did before. Frowning, you left it on your finger as you looked around for Jack’s rum. You could hear footsteps above, and it sounded like Jack finishing up with the Spanish crew. You glanced around once more, sighing and starting to pry the lid off the nearest crate.

‘Dozens of crates here...’ you thought ruefully as you pried up the nails holding the lid down.

‘How am I suppose t’ fin...’ you lost your train of thought as you found yourself staring down into a crate filled with bottles of dark alcohol, packed carefully in hay to prevent the bottles from breaking.

“Dumb fucking luck...” you muttered and you put the oil lamp down on the crate next to you. You bent down and hefted the crate into your arms, surprised to find it wasn’t as heavy as you thought it would be. You left the lamp in the room for the rest of the crew to use when they unloaded all the goods, and took the rum up on deck. You strode back out into the sunshine, blinking as you were blinded. The ring sat on your finger, forgotten. Jack noticed you and waved you over, grinning gleefully when he looked into the crate in your arms.

“Ah, that’s the stuff. Jest put it down here, lad, and hold this fine feller here.” You obliged and placed the crate on the ground, walking around to hold the Captain’s arms around his back. The man tensed and strained against your grip. You held him tighter, glancing over at Jack, hoping for an explanation. He slowly circled the man, hands flowing gracefully through the air, per usual.

“So here’s the deal mate. One more time, eh? Me man Lyle finds a key stashed in yer desk, hidden in a drawer. Now, from that one can conclude a few things. One:” He held up a finger daintily before pointing it at the man. “Ye have a passion fer keys, and this one happened t’ strike yer fancy, so ye hid it. Possible, but not likely. Two: the key was given t’ ye by yer own mum, who sadly passed a way years ago. As it is the on’y possession o’ hers ye have, ye treasure it immensely and hold it dear. Which would make ye one hell of a sentimental bastard. That too, is possible but not likely. And finally, Three: ye happen to have some great treasure stored away on this ship, kept under lock and key, the key to which I hold here.” With a great flourish he held up a small silver key, and the man remained stoically impassive.

“C’mon mate, we don’t have all day here.” barked Jack, brandishing the key at the Spaniard.

“It’s in the galley, hidden under the floorboard in the very back corner.”

Jack turned to look at you, and the other man cried out indignantly in Spanish. You looked at Jack, eyebrows raised, asking him with your eyes: “why are you looking at me like that?” He continued to stare at you, before motioning hastily for a nearby crewmember. He whispered directions into the lad ears, and the boy scurried off to do Jack’s bidding.

“Es un diabolo! Un Brujo! Un demonio!” [He is a devil! A witch! A fiend!] You frowned, not understanding what the man said. Jack told his inquisitive gaze from you face, and you felt relieved. That stare had been a bit unnerving. Did he think that you had done something to the man to make him say it? You shook your head, confused. Jack and you both turned when you hear a loud shout from below, and several seconds later three men came racing up the stairs as fast as they could, slightly impeded by a large chest held between the three of them. Jack’s eyes bulged, and he strode off quickly to examine it. You started to follow, but he swung around and motioned for you to hold onto your dear captive. You growled and maintained your grasp on his wrists, all the while watching Jack and the chest.

Jack bent down and pushed the key he had into the lock, turning it with a satisfying click. He eagerly pushed back the lid, and fell back on his haunches in awe. Inside the chest lay hundreds of gold coins, probably spoils from the ship’s trades. Jack whistled lowly, and you chuckled. The Captain struggled in your grip, but you held fast, motioning to a nearby crewmember to take a hold of the man. You let go of him, warning the pirate that he was quite feisty, then you walked over to stand behind Jack and stare down into the chest.

“This is quite unexpected.” You said under your breath. Jack let out a huge breath. And when he spoke you heard the grin in his voice.

“Aye. That it is.” He stood up, motioning for the three men to carry the chest over to the Pearl. Remembering your promise to your sister, you halted them and an over, digging into the chest and scooping out two handfuls of the gold. You walked them over to the Spanish captain, dropping the gold at his feet. Jack came running over, waving his hands about.

“No no no no no! What are ye doin’?! That’s our gold!” You turned around and walked across the gangplank and back onto the Pearl, and Jack bent down to pick up his precious rum. He groaned under the weight of the crate, and you frowned. It hadn’t been that heavy..... Jack staggered along falteringly behind you, stealing a glance over your shoulder, you saw he was looking back longingly at the gold you left behind, and then back at you. You grinned and shook your head, heading over to the head of the ship, where the crew had gathered all the plundered goods. Jack followed, but not before casting one final, longing glance back at the Viva Revolución. You chuckled and went below to grab some parchment and something to write with to take proper stock of the stolen loot.

* * * * *

CHAPTER 4 - Lyle Discovers, and the Ring

When you returned to the deck, you saw Jack draped lazily across the helm, bottle of rum firmly in his left hand. You grinned and shook your head, making your way to the crates. Matthew, along with two other members of Jack's crew, Gill and Sam, were lounging around, waiting for your report. When you approached, they jumped up and headed towards you.

"Alright lads, ye know the deal." They nodded, and immediately launched into a tour of the crates, walking around them all, pointing to various boxes, prying lids off of others. You made notes of all the supplies as you went along. Looked like you would definitely have enough to last for another two months at the very least. You paused to glance over your list, checking it mentally against the crates you had seen.

"...and this 'un has cloves, o'er a good five ounces o' them... this one's got those exotic fruit... whaddya call 'em... oranges, that's it. We got twen'y-six o' those."

"Twenty-seven." You corrected, twirling the small ring around your finger. Gill and Sam exchanged looks, and you glared at them.

"There's twenty-seven! Check 'em again!" Matthew sighed in exhaustion, bending over and sorting through the crate. You waited confidently.

"...Twen'y-five, twen'y-six... ah, yes, twen'y-seven. Ye were right there Jake. Twenty-seven." You wrote down the last figure on the parchment, before nodding appreciatively to Matthew, Gill, and Sam. They nodded back, and began to lug the goods down to the galley and the storage. You made your way up to the helm and Jack to give him the report. He looked at you curiously once more as you approached, and casually looped the end of the rope around one of the knobs on the wheel.

"Come with me." he said quietly, making his way down towards his cabins. You followed, uncertain what this was about. He strode purposefully into his cabin, settling himself down in the chair next to his bed and propping his boot-clad feet up on the small table. You closed the door behind you, and Jack motioned for you to sit down opposite you. You obeyed, sitting carefully in the seat, placing the paper on the table.

"What's that?" asked Jack absently. You frowned. Certainly he didn't ask you into his cabin simply to ask what the paper you were holding was....

"Report on the goods, Captain."

"Eh?"

"Report on the goods. Oranges, spices, no doubt ye notice the rum, and there's--"

"Jakey, me boy, how'd ye know where that ol' blighter's treasure was?" You looked up sharply, utterly confused.

"I'm sorry. Come again?" You shook your head, perplexed. Jack sighed heavily, eyes never leaving yours. He lowered his feet to the ground, and leaned over the table on his elbows.

"How did ye know that the gold was in the galley?"

"I didn't, Jack. The Captain told ye." Jack shook his head, sitting back once more. He looked around the room slowly, then back at you.

"No he didn't mate." You frowned.

"But I heard him, and--"

"Lad." said Jack softly, his face solemn and eyes dark. "It was ye." You fell silent, unsure of how to respond to that. Finally, after a few moments of tense silence in which Jack stared at you avidly and you pulled on your lip in consternation, you spoke up.

"Jack, are you sure? Because I sure don't--"

"Don't argue with me here lad. I saw as clear as day those words come from your mouth. And you were right. Now why don't you tell me what's going on here, Jake? Are you hiding something from me?" You shook your head.

"No, I'm not." You mentally excused your lie, thinking 'Not what he imagines I'm hiding from him anyway...' "And I don't know what's going on. If it is as you say it is, and I did say that... I just don't know Captain." Jack sighed again and rubbed a hand over his forehead. You sat, nervously toying with the new ring that still lay on your finger.

"What's that lad?" asked Jack quietly. You looked up, hand still on your ring.

"Hmm?"

"What's that you got there?" He pointed to the ring on your finger, and you held it up for him to see.

"Just a ring. Found it down in the storage room while I was getting yer rum." Jack nodded, reaching over to examine the ring. He held your hand to the light streaming through the window, marveling at the colour of the stone set in the middle.

"Peculiar." He muttered, looking up at you.

"May I?" you nodded and he slipped the ring off your finger, holding it carefully in his palm. As soon as it left your finger, you felt a cry tear from your throat, and you lunged across the table to grab it back from him. Jack gaped at you with wide eyes, and you felt your face burn. Why had you done that? You quickly slipped the finger back on your hand, feeling suddenly much more secure. Then you looked up at Jack. He looked slight taken aback, and slightly angry at your actions.

"Now lad, why don't ye tell ol' Jack what jest happened there, hm?" You flushed and looked down at the table, idly drawing shapes on the dirty wood with your finger. Jack reached across the table and grabbed your wrist, pulling you close. He forced your head up with one hand, looking in your eyes with confusion. Your eyes flashed, and he loosened his grip on your wrist.

"Jakey, something is going on here, and I need to know what it is...." he hissed somewhat threateningly. You set your jaw and glared at him, furious for being treated this way. He was holding your head in place with his large hand under your jaw. For a moment, you two glared at each other, until you spoke up.

"Jack, you'll learn nothing this way. I know as much about this as you do. Now let go." Jack's face softened, and he released you carefully. You sat back and massaged your jaw with one hand.

"Sorry mate. I'm jest a bit confused, is all."

"I know Jack. I am too." Jack sighed, then stood up, walking over to the chest at the bottom of his bed. He kicked it open, and pulled out a large bottle of rum, uncorking it with his teeth. He spat the cork out onto the floor, and waved you off.

"Alright then, Jakey. Get back t' work. We'll talk more on this later, aye?" You nodded pertly before sweeping out into the corridor. You stood for a moment, before turning and dashing into your cabin. Marie was lying comfortably on the floor, stretched out on her stomach. She was resting on one elbow, drawing serenely with her other hand. She turned when she heard you come in, and grinned. You smiled back before dropping down on the bed exhaustedly. Marie lifted herself from the floor, dropping her sketches on the desk, before crawling up to sit by your head, hand instinctively plucking at your hair.

"Long day?"

"You've no idea, Marie." She pulled you up by your upper arms, pulling a pillow into her lap and resting your head down on it.

"Tell me." You sighed deeply, grateful for her understanding, and began to tell her all about your day. * * *

"...And I just snatched it back from him! I didn't even know what I was doing! So, naturally he got all angry... and I am so confused." You finished with a dramatic sigh and a hand to your forehead. Marie chuckled and dropped your hair, scooting out from underneath you to face you on the bed.

"So let me see this ring." You looked at her, wary, but she scoffed and grabbed your hand.

"I'm not going to take it dear. Simply look." You let her examine the strange object for a minute, then she sat back against the headboard.

"So you just knew where the treasure was?" You shrugged, dropping your hand back to your side.

"I didn't even know I said it." Marie hummed in concentration, then brightened.

"Do you think it makes you simply know things? For instance, if I were to ask you how many coins I had in my pocket, you could--"

"Twelve." Marie gaped, and stuck her hand into her pockets to pull out the coins for counting. You watched, once more the feeling of utmost confidence washing over you. Marie finished counting and looked up, face fallen.

"Guess not. There's only ten." You shrugged, not really caring one way or another. You stood up, tugging your shirt over your head and beginning to unbind the linen cloth that held your breasts. Marie opened her mouth to say something else, but right at that moment the door burst in.

You spun around, one hand clapped to your mouth and the other across your chest, now bare. Lyle stood in the doorway, foolish grin on his face. You stared with wide eyes at him, and when he saw you and recognized you, his grin faltered and he stared right back. Marie pulled at her lip nervously from the bed.

"LYLE! C'mere!" came Jack's booming voice from steps away. Your eyes widened even more in alarm, and you reached over to yank Lyle into the room. You slammed the door behind him, locking it firmly, and leaning your back against it. Lyle stood in the middle of the room, eyes still never leaving your body. You closed your eyes and sucked in a few deep breaths. When you opened them, Marie was hovering nervously by the bed, and Lyle still hadn’t moved. You reached to the floor and picked up the discarded piece of linen, carefully wrapping it around your chest once more. When you finished, you cleared your throat and glanced up at Lyle.

"Suppose you know now." Lyle nodded without words, his mouth hanging slightly open.

"Not nice to stare." stated Marie pointedly. Lyle finally shook himself out of his stupor and glanced at her curiously. Marie curtsied to the best of her ability in breeches, bowing her head to the pirate.

"Marie, daughter of the Former Commodore of Kingsbury, sister to your beloved 'Jake' over there." She winked at you, and you placed a hand to your temple, which was now pulsing with a headache.

"You're a woman..." breathed Lyle, tentatively taking a step closer to you.

"You're very observant." you said flatly, watching him as he approached. He glanced around nervously before taking one step closer. You huffed in frustration and punched him on the side of his arm, moving to pace around the room.

"For goodness sakes, Lyle! It's me! Quit staring!"

"How am I suppose to not stare?! One o' the best friends in me life, male up till now, has turned out to be woman! What about all the times you've seen me changed!" His eyes widened even more. "You've seen me naked!" Back when you were younger, Marie would have giggled and blushed at such a notion, but now she simply looked on, impassive.

'Shows how much she's changed." you thought wryly. 'Seen too many men naked for her age...' You turned your thoughts back to the crisis at hand. Would Lyle tell? He wouldn't... would he?

"Lyle? Ye won't tell, will you?" you asked nervously, worrying your lip. He shook his head firmly, walking around you in a circle slowly. You stood straight, allowing him to examine you.

"So you bind your breasts every day?" he asked, and at that, Marie did giggle. You nodded, reaching over to shrug your shirt over your head.

"But now that I see you, you look so much like a woman! How did I miss it before? You have the most astounding eyes..." You flushed, flattered. Lyle grinned and winked.

"No worries, Jake. I won't reveal your secret. Nor will I treat you any different. Or try to woo you." You grinned and smacked him hard round the head. He winked again.

"But how do you hide it?" You held up one finger daintily, a habit you had picked up from Jack. Reaching over, you tied your bandana back around your head and wiped the pad of your pinky finger across a small round tin of kohl. You then swiped your finger over your eyelid, and underneath. Then you turned to grin at Lyle. "Holy hell, that's amazing! You look like... well, like Jake! Speaking of Jake, that can't be your real name. What's your real name?" You chewed the inside of your lip, not sure of whether to tell him or not.

"Ye won't slip up and call me by my name?" Lyle shook his head, and you told him your name quietly. He mulled it over for a minute, then grinned.

"I like it. But I'll always think of ye as Jake. And I won't slip." He grinned and you were about to reply when the door burst open once again. Thank god you were still dressed like Jake! Jack stood in the doorway, looking slightly ruffled. He glanced down at your door, and at the small piece of twisted metal now lying on the floor.

"Yer door was locked. Sorry 'bout that." You rolled your eyes and looked to him to see what he wanted.

"Lyle, I've been looking fer ye. Matthew, stupid blighter, can't do a thing t' save his own mum's life... somehow managed t' get himself in a crate down in the storage. Been yelling for a good half hour. Best get 'im outta there." Lyle popped an eyebrow, but hurried off without saying anything. Before he went out of sight, he turned around and winked at you from behind Jack's back. You bit your lip to keep from smiling. Jack turned to you, looking avid.

"And Jake, I wanted t' talk t' ye more about that ring ye have there, cos I was thinking--- Ey, 'ello there lass, aren't ye quite the treat... Jake ye devilish pirate... why didn't ye tell me ye had company...." His tone had changed from one of business to his seductive gruff voice, directing his passionately dark eyes at your sister. You snorted, know Marie would rather sleep with a pig than a pirate, and turned to address her properly. What you saw made your mouth drop open. Marie was flushing coyly, twirling a strand of her hair between her fingers. She had conveniently dropped the side of your shirt off of one shoulder, exposing just enough to no doubt inspire thoughts in Jack. You cried out in dismay, stepping between the two and flapping your arms wildly. Jack, distracted, looked at you as if you had sprouted wings. Which, currently, you looked like you did with all your ridiculous flapping.

"What in gods name are ye doin' mate?" You stopped and turned to him, still perturbed.

"Jack, meet me younger sister Marie. Marie, meet Jack." Marie curtsied once more, bowing her head and purposefully letting her hair cascade over her shoulders. Jack, entranced once more, stepped around you and took her hand, brushing his lips against her proffered hand. You growled and dragged Jack away from your stupid sister, who was still foolishly batting her eyelashes and chewing on her bottom lip. Jack watched her as you pulled him to the far side of the room, grabbing the back of his neck with one hand. He winced and tore his lusty gaze from your sister to you.

"Wait, she's yer sister?" You nodded, intending to tell him to leave her alone. Jack beat you to it though. His eyes got really dark with lust, a small goofy smile finding its way onto his face.

"Ye scallywag, Jake! Ye int' the whole incest thing? Heard it's pretty popular in France these days... have t' make a stop there... Knew ye were different then the rest when it came t' the bedroom... can I watch then?" You dropped your mouth open, aghast and disgusted, not to mention completely and utterly... disgusted! Ugh! The woman inside of you urged you to slap him, slap him hard, but you refrained, making up for it by grabbing the front of his shirt and slamming him into the wall. He hardly noticed, off in his little perverted world, dreaming of unspeakable acts. You held a finger in his face warningly.

"Jack Sparrow, lay one hand on my sister and I'll kill you." He looked down at you, startled by the coldness in your voice. You stared straight back into his eyes, now becoming clear as his desire seeped away. He held up his hands slowly, nodding. You let him go, smoothing out his shirt the best you could.

"Now, sorry bout that Capt'n." He nodded curtly, perching himself on the end of your bed. You glanced over at your sister, and were dismayed to find her sitting at the desk, staring openly at Jack. You reached over and tugged sharply on her hair, causing her to yelp and glare daggers at you. Grinning, you turned once more to Jack, relieved to find him examining his fingers lazily.

"Ye were saying, Jack? What did ye want?" He rubbed his nails on his jacket, yawning lazily and falling back onto your bed.

"Wanted t' talk t' ye about that ring o' yers. Cos I happened t' come across a---"

"How about we continue this in yer cabin, Capt'n?" You were looking sideways at your sister, who turned to you and pouted at the suggestion. Jack yawned again, and sat up. Without a word he meandered over to the door and out into the hallway, expecting you to follow. You started to, before turning around to hiss at you sister.

"I saw you staring! He's not the kind of man that you want to get involved with! I swear on my honour, if I see you toying with him, I will hurl you off of this vessel!" She replied by sticking her tongue out at you and scowling. You stuck your tongue out back at her, and closed the door, wandering over to Jack's cabin. No idea what he was going on about now....

"Jakey, come in. Sit! Let me read t' ye." You quirked an eyebrow, but obeyed and sat down in the chair you had sat in earlier. Jack cleared his throat importantly, producing a book from his chest pocket with a flourish, opening it up to somewhere in the middle. He began to recite, his voice booming grandly around the small cabin. "...The roman Gods, enraged by this lecherous act of duplicity, placed upon the Emperor a might curse, sending him to the depths of the ocean off the coast of Corsica. There he dwelt for centuries, not permitted to live, yet unable to die. A heavenly Ring was forged, and at the centre was set the most pure crystal, more translucent and breathtaking then any other on the face of the planet. It bestowed upon the bearer a great omniscience and intuitive powers. It was sent to Aphrodite, the Goddess of Love, to be kept safe. So it remained for more than half a century."

Jack glance up at you, then looked down at your hand. You frowned, glancing down at the ring on your finger as well. Was Jack suggesting that this was a divine artifact, somehow misplaced by the Roman Goddess of Love, now resting innocently on your finger? Ha. Laughable. And what was that about the great omniscience? Not likely. You scoffed. Besides, your ring was not clear as the tale suggested. You told him this, and his grin widened.

"Ah, but listen to this..." He flipped ahead a page, before resuming his narrative tone. "...the Blasphemer, having gained a hold of the ring, cast a mighty spell on it. Now, instead of being transparent, it crashed and brimming with the violent energy of the watery tomb in which his master was encased. It dwelt on the finger of this Blasphemer for many years, granting her great knowledge of things about which he knew not. However, eventually the woman was driven to madness, and it was lost. It has not been recovered to this day. It is rumored that those who find it will hold the key to a heavenly treasure, while others say all it offers is death and madness."

Jack slammed the book shut with a resounding snap, looking at you eagerly. You were looking down at the ring nervously. Death and madness? "Don't ye see lad? This is the ring! That 'heavenly treasure'... it's ours!" Jack stared at you excitedly, and you finally shook your head.

"Jack, it's not that ring. Marie and I tried... well, it's jus not the ring you're thinking of." you finished lamely. Jack sat down in the chair opposite you, deflated. You were about to open your mouth to console him, when your sister burst in. Her young eyes were wide, something clasped tightly in her hand. She rushed over to the table, opening her fist and letting two golden coins drop onto the table. You saw Jack quirk an eyebrow inquisitively and glance up at you. You shrugged, just as confused as he was. Marie was currently pacing back and forth around Jack's cabin, gesticulating wildly and exclaiming to herself.

"What did I say? You simply know things! And there I thought there was only ten... completely forgot... there was twelve! Do you know what this means! For you? for us? You can do anything you want! You can--" You held up a hand, slowly coming to realize what she was blabbering about.

"Wait now Marie, yer saying these coins... They were also in your pockets?" She nodded vigorously, sitting down on the edge of Jack's bed. You gaped in awe, realizing the extent of what this mean. The opportunities were endless...

"Would somebody mind telling me what's going on here?" asked Jack somewhat frustratedly. You sighed and turned to him, beginning to explain.

"Ye see, Jack, after--" Marie cut in, taking over excitedly.

"After you physically threatened my sis-brother, he came over to talk to me, and we thought that maybe he just knew things, so we tried a test." She was still waving her hands about wildly, occasionally casting glances to you or Jack. Jack was nodding thoughtfully hand on his chin. "I suggested he tell me how many coins were in my pocket. He said twelve. I pulled out all the pockets in my shirt, and I only had ten. Then Lyle came in and we got, er, distracted..." she shot you a funny look, and you bit your lip to keep from giggling. She cleared her face and her throat, and turned back to Jack. "Only, after you two left, I was planning to take a lovely little nap in this beautiful afternoon sun, as I still have not been granted permission to leave that godforsaken room..." She paused to glare daggers at you.

"Permission granted, luv. Ye may roam me boat t' yer hearts content." slurred Jack, gesticulating for her to continue with the story. She stuck her tongue out at you triumphantly, and you rolled your eyes. She took a deep breath and started up again. "Only when I took off my breeches--" Jack's face shifted inscrutably, and Marie blushed, "I heard something jingle. Like coins. So I turned them wrong-side out, and shook them. And, lo and behold, these two coins came tumbling out. Now. My first thought was 'Oh goodie! I love finding money that I didn't expect to find!' Then, after a few moments, I realized what this meant. There were twelve coins, Jake. You were right." She stopped somewhat lamely, as you had been expecting something much more climactic. And vibrant. But that was Marie for you.

"So this means that you do have the ring, lad." You smiled wanly at him, twirling the cursed thing around your finger nervously.

"Ye don't know that. I just guessed! It was a lucky guess." you stated flatly, deciding not to tell Jack about the other incidents... 'And what about those oranges?' reckoned a tiny voice inside of you. 'And Jack's rum? And let's not forget the chest of gold you so astutely located... and I assure, you, dearie, that that crate of rum was not as light as you imagine it to be. Even Jack had trouble carrying it less than twenty meters.' You winced and shook your head to clear those thoughts. Jack and Marie were looking at each other mischievously, and you sighed, thinking they were at it again.

"Look, Jack what did I tell you? Lay off--"

"How long have I had the Black Pearl?" Jack shot at you.

"Seventeen years, not counting the three that you worked on it as first mate and crew member." You slapped a hand over your mouth, aghast. "Stop! Stop asking me these things!" Marie cracked a grin and addressed Jack.

"Was he right on that one?"

"Yup." Marie grinned even wider and asked you another question.

"When did Mum marry Lord Grayson?"

"Ninth of July." This time it was slightly muffled, as your hand was still over your mouth. And you felt your lips move to answer.

"He right?" asked Jack. Marie nodded.

"How many different men have I Captained o'er in me life?"

"Hundred thirty-three."

"Damn straight."

"When did I start working the streets?"

"Two years and three months ago to the day."

"Why did I become a pirate?"

"Your father was a pirate, your mother was a wench in Tortuga. Need I say more? You had to pick one, and you chose your father."

"Aye, but I was sorely tempted t' stay in Tortuga..." Jack gave Marie a lewd wink that made her blush right down to the tips of her hair.

"How many men have I 'serviced'?"

"Forty-nine for an overnight, seventy-one for simple pleasures." Your eyes widened, and you screeched at Marie. "Forty nine!!!?!?!? SEVENTY-ONE? MARIE, I SHOULD SLAP YOU!" you fumed, glaring at her. Thankfully she had the grace to blush, and bow her head to stare at the table. Jack reached over and patted her shoulder.

"No worries, pet, watch this. How many women have I graced my presence with?"

"Thousand and twenty-three." Marie gaped and you stared. Over a thousand? Even Jack looked momentarily taken aback, before plastering a gleeful grin on his face and nodding triumphantly.

"Damn straight." You sighed, knowing the reading was not what he was suspecting it to be. "Jack, that was precisely 'how many women you have graced the presence of.' This thing doesn't do abstract. Ask it again, and this time, ask it straight." Jack rolled his eyes, and asked again.

"How many women have I fucked in me life?" He asked it with such a straight face, his voice bored and un-caring.

"Forty-seven."

"That's IT?!" he roared, reaching over to grab you by the shoulders. You couldn’t help but laugh at the way he was responding. He shook you once more, before settling back down and firing his questions at you.

"How many women have I slept with?"

"Forty-seven."

"How many whores have I slept with?"

"Forty-three."

"Who were the others?" asked Marie curiously. Jack shrugged, answering her absently. "Wives of important people."

"How many--" You cut in, exasperated.

"Jack! No matter how many times you ask that question, you shall always get the same answer! FORTY-SEVEN!" Jack grumbled and sat back in his chair, moodily staring down at the table. You sighed and stood up, motioning for Marie to do the same. You turned to jack, still muttering sulkily at the table.

"Thank ye Jack, but I have duties t' attend to. We'll continue this later, aye?" Jack waved a hand about to signify his answer, and you made for the door, reaching back and dragging Marie behind you.

* * * *

Jack stared at the table until the two left, then he bounded up and grabbed the book from his jacket, pacing about his small room, he re-read the very last passage about the ring, the part he hadn't read to Jake. It said: "The ring, as it rested for so long on Aphrodite's finger, may only be carried by a woman who is pure of heart and mind. The ring has something of a mind of its own, and shall decide whether or not the bearer is able to handle the ring. Once it has chosen a bearer, none shall be able to hold the ring for very long. And it shall reveal its powers to no one aside from the wearer. If the ring bearer becomes tainted, of either heart or mind, they shall lose the ring and all powers that accompany it. In all likelihood, the former bearer will succumb to madness and visions, ending in death." Jack mulled over that last passage for many hours, mind darting from the ring resting on the finger of his first mate, to his first mate himself.

* * * * *

CHAPTER 5 - The Oscuritá

"I want that ring damnit!" growled a young woman, slamming her fist down on the small table angrily.

"I want you to find who has it. I want you to track them down. And I want you to kill them. Then, bring me that ring." Her voice had become low and even, with an incredibly sharp edge to it. The poor woman she was addressing leaned in nervously in order to hear what she said in entirety. When she was finished, the girl nodded profusely and stepped back, edging towards the door.

"Yes, Captain Bellamy. Right away. Of course." She bowed one final time before turning and quickly fleeing the room. The fierce Captain glowered at the door for a moment, before growling in frustration and seating herself in the chair. Her eyes traveled over the array of maps and books that lay scattered over the table, each of them yielding enough information to entice the young woman, but not enough to actually inform. She heard a bold knock on her door, and waved for them to come in (to no real effect, since the door was closed). The door opened and someone waltzed in; Captain Adriana Bellamy's first mate aboard the nefarious Oscuritá. Trinidad, as she detested to be named, was younger than her captain was, but just as clever. She was quick as a fox, and quite dangerous to cross. Additionally, while the crew only fought in male garb (to protect their identities and earn respect), Trinidad dressed in the dark clothes almost all the time. She firmly believed that women were weak, and she did not want to be associated with them at all (even though she was one herself). Her dark hair would have been cropped to the roots if she was allowed her way, but Bellamy had stayed her hand, insisting she would come to need her locks. Instead, the girl swept it up into a furious knot at the back of her head, tying a dark blood red bandana across the top of it. Her impenetrably dark eyes never ceased to flash with a confused sort of anger, her hands constantly twitching and fingering the butt of her pistol, or the hilt of her sword. She was, in her heart of all hearts, (if she had one) a true pirate. Itching to fight, yearning to breathe, and longing for excitement. Which, relatively speaking, were not so much bad qualities in a pirate, or any person for that matter. But combined with her quick-to-fire temper, and her general hate for all of mankind (meaning women), she was not really a 'happy-go-lucky' kind of gal. On the upside, she did have quite the sense of humour. Dark, yes, but still there.

Trinidad cast an appraising glance over her Captain before closing the door and approaching. Adriana barely inclined her head, her way of acknowledging her first mate. The Captain was hunched over in her seat, elbows on the table and head in her hands. She was thinking about something. No doubt, the location of the ring, Trinidad reasoned. Adriana's long hair was jet black, and hung in soft waves. She was quite attractive; her Italian features and soft skin, juxtaposed next to her sleek hair, presented a double front for her enemies. One never wanted to be on the other end of her cutlass. That was for sure. She was a direct descendant of the infamous Captain Bellamy, of the Whidaw. Adri (as Trinidad so addressed her in private) was immensely proud of her grand heritage, and was prone to suddenly launching into the tale of how Captain Bellamy managed to maintain his prize, and still outrun the sloop that was quick on his tail. Trinidad had heard that one several times.

Adriana had a natural commanding air about her, as well as an eerie and, to most people, confusing array of emotions. When she was pleased, it could only be seen by the smallest glint in her green eyes, and was followed by double duties and harder tasks. When she was upset... goddess above, being on the receiving end of one of her peculiar rants was one of the most terrifying experiences Trinidad had ever lived through. Bellamy's voice became quiet, her eyes blank, and void of any emotion. She spoke with calculated coolness, and a front of indifference. Underneath this seemingly vacant expression, however, boiled rage fierce enough to kill. And kill she had. Dozens of times. In fact, she was nearing the edge with Anne, the young girl who seemed to be so incompetent at finding anything about the whereabouts of the ring. But no, in order for everything to work, Anne would have to be kept around, and, if possible, be sheltered. Stupid girl would have to stay pure. Goddess knows Bellamy was not ‘pure of heart and mind,’ so she would need someone around who was, and Anne would be perfect. She came back to attention when she noticed Trinidad edging around the table to sit down across from her.

"Adri, ye need anything?" she asked carefully, peering at the Italian woman. Adriana shook her head, and dropped her forearms down onto the table.

"Trinidad, I want that ring..." she whispered, eyes faraway in longing, her voice barely audible. Trinidad sighed and leaned back in her seat, training her scrutinizing eyes on Bellamy, knowing better than to speak. She waited for Adri to start again. They sat in silence for a few moments, until Adriana broke it with a huge sigh.

"Did you know that my ancestor, the original Captain Bellamy, was once caught in a tremendous storm?" she began, settling her hands behind her head. Trinidad rolled her eyes discretely, arching her eyebrows in mock interest as the young Bellamy continued.

"The thunder was so loud and so dreadful some men hid in the hold. Not Bellamy. He stood at the helm solidly. He turned to his first mate, who was dutifully standing beside him of course..." She shot a quick look towards Trinidad, who nodded astutely, catching the small hint about loyalty in the story. Adri grinned and turned back to her narration.

"He said cheerily: 'I do wish I could run out the guns and return their salute.' His first mate of course had no idea what he was talking about, but nodded all the same. Bellamy noticed this, and continued. 'The Gods, good pirate, are saluting us. Either that or they got a mite too drunk on their tipple. I can't tell which.' The first mate understood this, and they laughed heartily for quite a while, imaging the gods in a drunken stupor in the heavens." Adri seemed to be finished her story, as she was smiling slightly, staring off into the depths of her cabin. Trinidad shifted uncomfortably in her seat, quite confused. She had no idea if that small anecdote was a lead in for something else, a hint to her about how to act, or something with double meanings and somehow connected to the situation at hand. She waited a moment, to see if perhaps her captain was going to explain, before speaking up.

"Adri, I'm not sure I understand." Adriana turned to face Trinidad, looking puzzled.

"What's there not to understand, Trinidad? He was suggesting that the thunder was a result of the Gods drunkenness in heaven, or that they were saluting him. So he wanted to return the salute. Clear and simple."

"Yes, but is--"

"Oh, I see what you're asking about. Well, although he wanted to return the salute, running out the guns in a storm like that would only cause them harm. That's what you were curious about, yes?" Trinidad briefly rolled her eyes to the heavens, controlling her temper and biting her tongue. Then she smiled thinly, and nodded.

"Aye. That was it. I understand now." Adriana grinned happily, and leaned back once more.

"I'll leave you to it now then, Captain." said Trinidad, getting up and immediately placing her hand on her pistol. Her thumb gently rubbed the brass-capped butt, which was worn and gleaming from all of her handlings. Adriana nodded in response, and returned to staring blankly at her maps. Trinidad shook her head and snuck out, closing the door behind her.

* * * *

It was barely two days later when young Anne came running to Bellamy’s quarters, knocking feverishly on the door. Adri sauntered over, opening it and raising an eyebrow at her crewmember. Young Anne stumbled for a moment, nervous under the vicious glare of her captain. Adriana’s hand briefly flashed over her pistol, prompting Anne into speech.

“The ring you were looking for was purchased in Vera Cruz from a drunkard named Martín.” she gushed out, glancing up at the Italian woman towering over her.

Bellamy’s expression changed in the blink of an eye, a grin finding its way onto her face for a fleeting second. She stepped aside with a sweeping gesture, inviting the timid girl into her cabin. Anne stepped in eagerly, continuing.

“He sold it to Captain Calvados of the Spanish galleon named Viva Revolución. They were just recently off the coast of Java, headed back towards Port Havana. According to my source, they should be not far off; maybe 75 or so leagues west of us currently.” Again, the grin flashed over Bellamy’s face, and she placed a hand down firmly on the table.

“A day. Two at the most. Good. Thank you.” Anne beamed and stood up. Bellamy looked at her expectantly for a moment, and then sighed. She was obviously not taking her cues.

“Out, girl!” Anne’s eyes widened and she jumped shortly, then turned and flitted from the room without another word. Adri seated herself at her table once more, picking up the book that had first described the ring to her. She flipped through quickly, thumbing the pages and catching the faint whiff that accompanied old books. Then, smiling slyly, she slammed it down on the table and waltzed from the room, orders already on her lips.

* * * *

"Run up Britain's! Drop sail! You know the drill, girls!" The crew raced hurriedly around the deck. They looked decidedly different from earlier; they all had their male garb on now, in preparation for the confrontation with the galleon. On pirate lass was hoisting the flag of Britain into the air, grinning wickedly. It was an old trick, but one that never failed. A Spanish ship would never fire upon a vessel flying the flag of its most precious ally. The Oscuritá was slowing steadily, and drawing closer to the Viva Revolución. Bellamy could see the crew aboard the other vessel, and they seemed to not notice the peculiar craft of the ship, or the notorious name. Adri breathed a small sigh of relief at that blessing.

'The blessing of a crew of simpletons...' she thought wryly as she navigated the Oscuritá to glide in perfectly alongside the Spanish vessel. Her crew crouched ready along side the railing, hidden until the last moment. As the two boats drew close enough that maybe two rowboats would fit side by side between the two, Captain Bellamy bared her teeth in an animalistic grin. Captain Calvados faltered, taken aback. Bellamy unsheathed her pistol and pointed it at the head of the Captain. Her crew stood up slowly alongside her, each in turn cocking her pistol and aiming them at various other members of the Spanish crew. Aboard the Viva Revolución, Calvados glanced shortly at the sky, setting his jaw.

"Ay, dios mios, not again. This is becoming tiresome..." he muttered in annoyance under his breath. He leveled his stare at the man not 10 metres away, fixed to blast a hole through his head in a moment. Sighing, he resigned himself to the fact that he would not be bringing anything back to Havana this time around. He swept one arm wide lazily, completely fed up.

"Welcome aboard." was all he said. If Bellamy started in surprise for a moment, she hid it well, grinning savagely and heading towards the plank already being laid across the gap. She stalked across, leering at the men as she passed. She heard her crew scurrying around behind her, setting off to search the ship for anything of value. She headed for Calvados, Trinidad in tow. The Captain was brave; she had to give him that. He stood tall as he watched her approach.

"Y quien eres? Que va en mi barco? Quien eres?!" Bellamy half turned, holding her pistol steady on the old man, but quirking an eyebrow at Trinidad. Adriana was Italian, and therefore had never really encountered any problems understanding Spanish. But Calvados' accent was so thick that she would be surprised if his own crew could understand what he was saying. When Trinidad shook her head, communicating that she didn't hear either, Adri swung back around.

"Sorry, mate, you'll have to repeat that. English, and slower. We are not barbarians here." She paused for a moment, noting the dry look on Calvados' face. She smiled slowly, raising a finger into the air. "Actually... we are. But you aren't so there is no excuse. Come on. Speak up." Behind her captain, Trinidad grinned.

Calvados spoke with forced calmness, and faked politeness. "Who are you?"

"Why, I am none other than... Captain Morgan." She had had to pause for a moment to decide which one she would be that day... she never told her real name or revealed her real sex unless she was planning to kill the crew, and she hadn't made up her mind about this one yet. She had been various Captains... Michaels, Matthews, Roberts (that one tended to make the victims dubious... she didn't really resemble Roberts at all...), Bart (posing as his brother, since that man was very... er... unique in his appearance...), Rackram (from which she had only received ridicule and disrespect.... apparently "Calico Jack," as he was called, was a bit of a whelp and a eunuch...), and most recently she had been Morgan. She was pleased with that one, as it was of her own invention and she had yet to hear of any Pirate Captain by the name of Morgan.

"And I am safe in assuming that you are Captain of this vessel? Captain Calvados?" The man nodded curtly to the address. Adri sidled over, keeping her pistol leveled. She really hoped she wouldn’t have to fire it, as it was not her weapon of choice and it took a heck of a long time to reload, but it was efficient for the task at hand. Which was to scare this man into telling her where the ring was.

"Sí." He said shortly. Adriana clenched her teeth. She understood perfectly what he had said, since it was simple enough, but for him to directly disobey her orders like that... that really peeved her. She reached over and delivered a smart slap to the back of his head.

"English, ye dog!" When he didn't respond, she sighed and resumed her commanding air. "And as Captain of this vessel, I am sure that you would be able to tell me about a certain object bought in Vera Cruz?" She glanced at the Spaniard, who nodded. She smirked in satisfaction. "A certain... ring, perhaps?" The man's face remained impassive. She prodded him in the chest with the barrel of her pistol, quickly growing tired of his penchant towards not telling her what she wanted to know.

"A ring, you dolt! Similar to these!" She waved her fingers in his face, her many rings glinting off the midday sun. "Anillo!!!" Calvados still said nothing. Bellamy spun on her heel, and stalked over the few places to stand by Trinidad. She bent down to whisper harshly in her ear, her first mate listening closely.

"Get me the belts. Two of them." Trinidad look back, surprised. Two?? They only had three on board, and they cost a fortune! Besides, they were better put to use on crew who had refused to surrender... and the Viva Revolución had given up without even so much as a breath of resistance.

Bellamy noticed her hesitation, and glared, her eyes flaming immediately. "Just get them." She then spun back around to face the Captain again. She briefly noted the retreating footsteps of Trinidad, and nodded to herself. Calvados cleared his throat, bringing her attention back to him. He was quite young actually, she decided. At first glance, he had look like an old man, past his prime and in Davy's Grip. But it was deceiving. His face was lined, not with age, but with experience. His hair was still dark in most places, except for very small streaks of grey here and there. His face was set and grim, a hint of sadness tugging at the corners of his eyes.

"What's you problem?" asked Bellamy quietly as she circled around him, curious. "Why did you surrender so quickly? Strong, eager young man such as yourself would have put up at least a small fight, yes?" The man remained stoically silent, and Adri pressed on. "What's bothering you, mate?"

"Sir, we were just cleaned out completely by pirates, sir. Not even one day ago, if it pleases you sir." piped up a young and nervous voice from beside Calvados. For the first time since Bellamy-pretending-to-be-Morgan had stepped onto the vessel, she saw the Spanish captain show emotion. His jaw tugged, and his eyes flashed. He cast an accusing glance at what looked to be his first mate, now quailing by the helm. He looked up at Bellamy appealingly as she approached, cat-like.

"Pirates, say you? And how do I know you are not---"

"Captain, the hull's completely empty! Nothing in Captain's Quarters either!" called out a voice from behind her. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw her crew (dressed as men) assembled on the lower deck by the stairs. All were empty-handed. Bellamy nodded and turned back to the first mate, not smiling timidly.

"We will return to these pirates later. But now: about this ring. You did trade for a ring in Vera Cruz, yes? Sí?" The man glance over her shoulder towards Calvados, unsure. Bellamy slanted her head so that she could catch both men in her range of vision. When she spoke, it was directed at the young first mate.

"No need t worry about your Captain, mate. Just tell me, did you barter for a ring?" The man paused, still hesitant, then finally nodded. Bellamy felt like grinning, but remained nonchalant.

"And it was silver? Marvelous stone set in its centre? Dragon of some sort crafted around the gem? Any women aboard?" To each of the question, the lad had nodded eagerly, until the last one. He frowned, looking confused. Then he shook his head.

"No sir, no women aboard. Although one wishes for them, gets mighty lone---" Bellamy waved him into silence, not caring to hear about the sailor's sexual frustration. She had gotten the answer she wanted. The ring had been aboard. And probably looted by the pirates who ransacked the ship not a day earlier. Now to find out who they were.

"Now back to the pirates, lad. You said that you were attacked by pirates not a day ago, correct?" The young man nodded in response.

"And do you recall the name of the Captain of the pirate vessel?" The young man nodded eagerly, happy to give her any information she might need.

"Sparrow, sir. His name was Jack Sparrow." Bellamy sat back on her heels, racking her brain for any memory, and mention at all of Jack Sparrow. Adriana came up with nothing. She twisted her neck, and seeing Trinidad behind her, motioned her to come forward. Trinidad strolled forwards, bending down to place her ear next to her Captain's mouth.

"Have you heard of a pirate, name of Sparrow? Jack Sparrow?" Trinidad frowned in consternation, and then shook her head. Adri sighed and turned back to the young man. "And he sailed on which ship?"

"The Black Pearl, sir." Adri nodded thoughtfully again. That she had heard of, as it had once caused quite the ruckus in Port Elena years back. She didn't remember the name Sparrow being connected to it, but she had heard very little, and what she had heard had been stories told over pints of whiskey. Oh well, another job for young Anne when they returned to the ship. First she would have to deal with these men...

Standing, she turned and saw Trinidad holding the two belts. She grabbed only one, deciding against punishing the Captain. She held it carelessly in her left hand, motioning to the first mate with the other. He stood nervously, and trotted over to stand a foot away from Bellamy. She bared her teeth, grabbing him by his upper arm and leading him to the main mast. She placed his back up against it, and two members of her crew scurried up to secure his arms and legs so that he couldn’t move from the pole. Adri, meanwhile, strapped the belt around his forehead merrily, whistling to herself. The young lad whimpered and whined, pleading with Bellamy-pretending-to-be-Morgan.

"But, But-- Mr. Morgan, sir..."

"Captain Morgan, lad!" called out Adriana cheerily from behind him. He faltered, a lump forming in his throat.

"B-b-but... Captain Morgan sir... I helped you! I-I... I told you about the r-ring... and AHH!" His nervous stutterings turned to anguished cries and Bellamy pulled on the belt, tightening it forcefully around the boy's head. [A/N the pirates actually did this. Some thought it great fun to watch, and see how far they could tighten it before the men's eyes literally bulged out of their head. It, of course, was one of the most painful ways to die. nice stuff, eh?] Bellamy motioned for Trinidad to take her place at the belt, and she strode over to face the lad. His face was already streaked with tears, his eyes huge and pleading. The belt was stressing his forehead, but causing no lasting pain yet. His whimpering was beginning to annoy Adri, so she gripped his chin, moving his head as much as was possible to look her in the eyes.

"You know what I hate, lad?" The boy made to shake his head, and remembered that he couldn't.

"N-nn-no..." His voice shook and wavered as she choked out the word. Bellamy was seemingly unaffected by all this.

"Disloyalty, mate. I absolutely hate disloyalty. She than young man over there?" Bellamy pointed at Trinidad, who stepped out from behind momentarily to salute mockingly at the man. He stared to nod, wincing when the leather cut into his skin even more.

"...yes...." The boy was crying now, his eyes swelling pitifully and spilling down onto his flushed cheeks. Bellamy continued without even noticing.

"That man there has been my first mate for twenty-three years. All the years that I've sailed for. And do you know why I keep 'I'm around?" Trinidad cracked a wicked grin, returning to the belt behind the mast. The boy knew better this time, and not only remember not to shake his head, but actually responded with the right answer.

"L-loyalty, sir?" he blubbered, voice catching and a sob escaping. Bellamy allowed a grin, for the boy's sake, and clapped her hands together once.

"Exactly, my young man! Loyalty! That man is the most loyal one I've ever seen in my life. Now, you on the other hand... I had barely counted two minutes before you gave your crew and your Captain away. There I was, having a respectful conversation what that gentleman over there, dealing with the situation maturely, and then you come in. have you always given out your Captain like that? Did you think it would make me like you, that lowness? Perhaps..." Bellamy chuckled at the thought, "perhaps you imagined that I would be pleased with you, lad, and I would spare your life. Perhaps I would come to like you so much that I would bring you aboard my ship, and you would get to spend some 'quality time' with my Anne over there." Anne, recognizing a cue when she heard one, dropped the shoulder of her shirt and pulled down her hair. The men gaped at her breasts, half of them forgetting the scene going on in front of them. The young man allowed once quick glance towards Anne before gulping and returning his eyes to Adri's.

"You are scum, boy."

Trinidad tugged on the belt, sliding it back a notch. The boy moaned and his sobs increased.

"You are a rat, boy."

Another tug. The boy cried out this time, then bit his lip hard.

"God, I send you..."

Another tug. The boy screamed and his weeping became hysterical. All on deck were now watching the scene ardently.

"...the disloyal, low and lecherous..."

Another tug. The lad screamed louder than any Adri had ever heard, a toe-curling cry that echoed across the boat and floated along on the wind for miles. Adri was surprised the boy could even breathe for al the sobbing he was doing. What breath he did gather was taken in in raspy, frantic gulps, his body starting to go into shock and his lungs starting to hyperventilate. Adri paused, realizing she didn't know the lad's name.

"What be your name, lad?" The boy didn't respond for all the crying. She asked again, and heard the faintest of responses, whispered sacredly between hysterical sobs and gasps for air and cries of pain.

"Antonio..." Bellamy nodded in satisfaction, and straightened once more.

"I send you the disloyal, lecherous, low, and whimpering Antonio!" Trinidad tugged on the leather belt, deftly sliding the catch up two holes, then heaving once more and slipping it up a final notch. A resounded crack reverberated across the deck, and the boys' cries stopped. Trinidad stepped out from behind the pole, smallest of smiles playing across her lips. Bellamy motioned to her crew to board the Oscuritá, and they started to file back on. As she headed for the gangplank, another young sailor stepped in front of her, face livid.

"Damn you to the depths of Hell, you scoundrel! You Pirate!!!" Trinidad moved to shoot him, her pistol already cocked and placed at the man's temple, finger on the trigger. Bellamy stayed her, staring at the man coldly.

"Damn me? Damn me? Damn you! You are a sneaking dog, and so are all those who will submit to be governed by laws that rich men have made for their own bloody security! The cowardly whelps have no courage otherwise to defend what they get by their knavery; but damn you altogether... damn them for a pack of crafty rascals, and you, you who serve them, for a barrel of hen-hearted Numskulls. The vilify us, us!, the scoundrels do, where the only difference between them and us is this: they rob the rich under the protection of 'law,' and we plunder the rich under the protection of our own damn courage." With that, Adri drew in a deep breath, turned, and paused once more at Trinidad. She was still holding her pistol firmly against the man's temple. Originally, Adri had not intended to kill the man, but she was so riled up now that she really didn't care. She nodded to Trinidad, who grinned wickedly once more. Bellamy swept away, and a moment later heard the sound of a gunshot and a body falling to the deck. Soon Trinidad followed her across the plank, sticking her still smoking pistol into her belt and grinning.

* * * *

"So I assume you haven't heard mention of this Jack Sparrow either?" Adriana shook her head no to Trinidad's question, carefully stroking the length of her needle along the loadstone. It had taken her ages to find this stone, as it had cost her a small fortune. Handy as hell though. The rock was naturally magnetically charged. All she needed to do was stroke the needle along it several time, the place it in her small tin of salt water. The needle then pointed north. It as trustier than any synthetic compass, since it always pointed north. Nature never lied. She dropped it carefully into the metal tin filled with water, watching as it spun and twitched around, finally settling into position, pointing off into the far left corner of Adri's cabin. Adri grinned and strode up to the helm, Trinidad in tow. The crew was hurrying around the deck, and when Bellamy barked out her orders, they scurried to obey them. Trinidad and Adri stood in silence for a moment, nothing really to say. Then Trinidad spoke up, never taking her eys off the horizon.

"That speech--"

"Yea. That was Bellamy's. Powerful words."

"Thought so. Just checking." Trinidad smiled slyly, knowing already that the speech had been her predecessors; she had heard it once before. Adri glanced over and frowned when she saw Trinidad smiling, but one tugged at the corners of her own mouth. Slapping a hand on her first mate's back, she rested her eyes back on the horizon.

"I'm coming for you, Jack Sparrow....."