Pirates of the Caribbean 1. The Most Unlikely Debris

Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, nor do I intend on making any money off of this story. Experience is my reward :)

Pre-story Drabble: Thank you for reading (or considering to read) my work. I suppose that I was inspired by so many of the good Pirate fictions out there that I simply had to write one of my own. It's been a while since I have written anything, but I hope that my grammar and plotline are up to par. With that in mind, if you find anything that could use improvement do not hesitate to let me know. You're the one reading it, my goal is to make this as enjoyable for you to read as it is for me to write.

Also, I have decided to set part of my story pre-movie for two reasons; one, because I hardly see any works in which the entire story is based before the movie timeline, and two, because I'm crazy like that. Also, if I end up writing a sequel, I can base that plot post-Pirates movie (just to mix it up a bit).

Enjoy!

Guess What Drifted Ashore

Chapter One: The Most Unlikely Debris

Jack Sparrow, captain of the Black Pearl and scallywag extraordinaire, stood with one hand clutching the helm while watching his crew scuttle about on deck. Directly above the Captain, grey and heavy masses of clouds were ready to let down a fury of hail and rain.

Captain Jack Sparrow, a pirate nearing the ripeness of his life with nothing but a brilliant gold future ahead of him. That is, if he can reach the Isla de Muerta in one piece. Locks of his dark knotted hair and pseudo-dreadlocks whisked about his face in a haphazard manner, facing the brutal winds which were deemed only to get worse. A muddied red bandana held his mop of hair (if it could be called that) away from his face. Under his cat-like eyes, lines of kohl removed the ocean's glare – which had proven useful to the captain many times before. Yet even in the vigorous winds, the Captain stood proud and free in a stance that was as tipsy as his personality.

"Captain," a man cried out from below. "The sky 'ill open up on us any minute!"

"Right yeh are, Pintel. Every man to his station and hope the Pearl will make it through the night," the Captain replied.

This would be one of the Pearls greatest victories, if she could make it through. The crew would make ready for the most fierce battle's of their life.

It was not long into the next morning when Jack Sparrow was found, once again, at the helm. His eyes searching the horizon for another sign of a storm, but the only thing he found were clear skies.

Out of the silence, a yell was heard from the lower deck. "Cap'n! Cap'n! There's a box or somethin' in the water ther! Per'aps it's somethin' we lost in ther storm!"

"Well reel it in, gents! We can't 'ave our cargos amiss can we?" Jack stumbled down to the lower deck and pulled out his spyglass to have a look for himself. "That's no piece of cargo, lads. It's a raft, and what's more, there's a person aboard it – a lass by the looks of it."

By now, a rowboat had been sent out to fetch the drifting raft which had neared the ship considerably since first sighted. Jack tossed the spyglass to a nearby crewmember which decided to use the instrument to confirm the Captain's suspicions.

The rowboat was now on its way back to the ship and ropes were being readied to hoist it back up. Jack could only ponder the reasons for a woman floating adrift after the storm of the century. If she had been on another boat whose ill fate lead it to the bottom of the ocean, she would have drowned for certain. There was land though, not that Jack could see, but according to the ship's current bearings there could be land in some short distance to the east. Yet here she was, with no more than sunburn and perhaps in need of some water.

By this point, the rowboat was on deck and various efforts were being made to lift the maiden onto the deck. However, the large crowd of crew who had come to satiate their curiosity made this task extremely difficult. This was especially challenging when Jack lurched his way to the centre of the group to answer some of his innermost questions. Jack called for one of his crewmen to bring some drinking water at once.

At first Jack was unsure of what to do, for he had seldom had such an encounter with a living piece of debris. He tried prodding at her in the shoulder, which resulted in more disappointment from the crew that he had not tried to prod her elsewhere, but after a few more tries – to her naval, her other shoulder, and finally a pinch on the underside of her arm – her eyes slowly began to open. Almost at once, a gasp and silence murmurings traveled around the on-looking crew.

Jack took in her appearance with a curious gaze trailing from her extraordinarily long wavy tresses to her profound russet eyes to her strange attire. She was wearing an thin and soft looking dress, but not in the usual style of the era. The green fabric lay flat against her body, however not in a revealing manner which could easily be assumed. It had an essence of primitivism to it. It was loose in some areas, and held as a second skin in others. If Jack could presume one thing, it would be that she was not from a British colony. It was not just her attire that could attest to that conclusion. On her wrists were wooden bangles with rudimentary shapes burned into them and around her neck was a long necklace looped around several times consisting of only wooden beads. She must be a tribeswoman, though how she ended up in the ocean on a very questionable raft, he would not know, and would continue not knowing for a very long time.

At this time, Jack at least had the sense to introduce himself and stop staring at her. "'Ello there, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow of the great pirate ship, the black pearl. Now, who are yeh and how did you end up on my ship?" In return he saw only silence. He passed her the flask of water that his crewmember finally retrieved and continued. "When I say 'how did ye get on me ship,' I don't actually mean how. I know, my crew went and fetched yeh fer me, I saw them. I mean what are yeh doin in the ocean on that raft?" Still, in return he received only silence, even though she had finished the water. "Listen luv, don't pretend yeh can't hear me, I'm right in front of yeh!" Jack's impatience was growing on his face. So he decided another tactic, he decided to degrade her. He pointed to himself and drew out the syllables of his name, "me, Caaaa-pppp-nnn Jaaaa-ckkkk Spaaaa-rrowwww."

He paused and waited for her to take the bait. Any woman would easily feel as though he was mocking her intelligence and refute, but this girl did something he didn't expect. She sat up a little straighter from her original position and tucked her dress (or what was left of it) around the knees and ankles. Then, she pointed to him and repeated his name with a sense of no familiarity. "Cap en Jack Spay-row". She repeated over and over to herself as though she was trying to ensure she remembered it.

Jack noticed a heavy accent in her voice, though he couldn't place it. From his experiences of dialects of the world – all experiences gained from pillaging foreign merchant ships, that is – he would describe it as a combination of Spanish and French decent. Although, there was another element to it that made it sound completely out of place. He slowly kneeled on one knee as though he was ready for her to let out a reply more soft than a whisper.

Then, she pointed to herself and said just as slowly as the Captain had done what Jack could only assume as her name, "Annn-ukkkk-sssseeee-mmmooo-mmmooo. Anuksemomo."

It seemed that only then did she realize the weapons that the men around her carried and slightly shrank back as though she had never spoken in the first place. Well, that name did not sound British at all. Jack now used what little collection of reason he had left and assembled, what he believed to be an accurate, account of how this 'Anuksemomo' had arrived in the middle of an ocean on a piece of driftwood. He would, indeed, confirm that she probably lived on an unclaimed island as part of a tribe of some sort. He would also confirm that for whatever reason, she had built this 'raft' herself and left the island sailing for better waters. However, no matter how believable this sounded to him, Jack would not be able to get a straight answer since she obviously did not speak a word of English, this he concluded from her lack of response and her indifference to his boy-like taunting. Furthermore, the name 'Anuksemomo' did not sound the least bit French nor Spanish or any other foreign language for that matter.

Jack was abruptly awoken from his mind mapping by his first mate, "what exactly do yeh intend to do with 'er Cap'n?"

Jack looked up at Barbossa and stood from his kneeling position where he had been eye-to-eye level with the girl. "We'll wait until we're in Tortuga for trading the treasure after the return from Isla de Muerta. But the lady of the winds is in good spirits and don't want to get thrown off course from our main goal." Jack looked around at his crew for approval. Most seemed pleased that he didn't want to back-track to Tortuga when they had already put so much ocean between the ship and the island. There was no sense to be turning back to drop off a dame. However, some of the crew looked at her with lust in there eye, for although she was very sunburned and had dirt and grime around her, she was a very alluring lady. So, just for assurance, Jack added to his statement, "and if I find that any of yeh scallywags has taken the privilege of gettin familiar with 'er, he'll be lost to Davy Jones locker!"

With that threatening statement, the crew headed back to their posts. To the top of the crows nest to mending the sails, not one pirate – save the Captain and Barbossa – remained within a six meter radius of the girl.

"Are yeh sure about this Cap'n?" Barbossa asked, not sure whether he should trust his captain in taking a lass along with them to recover the treasure.

"Of course I'm sure! I'm a pirate, why should I care if I toss her into the streets of Tortuga with no place to go?" Jack retorted with a slight carelessness in his body language.

"I was referrin' to her comin' with us, not droppen' her off."

"Of course yeh were," Jack seemed slightly taken aback and mentally scolded himself for letting his thoughts carry him away from reality once again. "She won't be much trouble anyway, she can't even talk, it's not like she'll distract us."

"Won't she Cap'n?" Barbossa hinted towards some of the crew who were still eyeing Anuksemomo as though she were a piece of gold glimmering in the sun, ready for any man to steal.

Jack turned back to Anuksemomo and took her by the hand and lead her to his cabin. He looked around and realized that he had set specific rules for his crew, and what sort of captain would he be if he disobeyed them himself? More importantly, what if the gesture of letting this woman sleep in his room would encourage the crew to make similar and less civilized offers to her? No, he would take her somewhere else.

Thankfully, no one had been sick in the last few weeks, and so the sickbay was free of use. He turned around on his heel and while slightly raising a finger to point at her as though to explain his actions, he thought the better of it and simply dragged to below deck instead. Although she would be residing directly above the crew's quarters for the remainder of this voyage, he had an easy access to her chamber as well.

When Jack reached the sickbay, he turned Anuksemomo to face him and looked her in the eye. "Doooo yeehhhh neeeed anythinnn'?" he asked hoping that the slower he spoke, the more she would understand. In this case it seemed to have worked, since she held up the empty water flask and made a gulping noise while pointing to her open mouth. "Of course yeh do," Jack grabbed the empty bottle and headed out of the door.

He was five paces out when he realized he heard someone behind him. He swiftly kicked his right leg out in front of him and used the motion to propel him to turn on his left heel. In front of him stood Anuksemomo who seem slightly startled, "no, no no! Yeh stay in here!" Jack grabbed her shoulders and backed her back into the room and closed the door to finalize his actions.

It had been five days since they had recovered Anuksemomo from the ocean. She had made quite the ideal patient, for she somehow managed to remove the grime built on her skin – though no one knew how since none of the crew had delivered enough water that she could use in addition to quenching her thirst – and had also made a full sunburn recovery. Rather than peeling skin and red rashes, she had developed an even tan which made her look more exotic, especially to the eye of a certain captain.

Most of the crew had grown accustom to her presence. Those who could not pronounce her name used abbreviated forms, such as "Anne" or "Mo". For the first day or so, Anuksemomo would not respond to anyone who called her these new nicknames. It wasn't until Jack had pointed to her and recited these new names did she understand that they were to represent her.

As for her language, Anuksemomo had taken to repeating most things people had said to her in attempt to learn English. Some of the crew had taken advantage of this and would play a game to see what naughty phrases they could make her repeat. Little did they know that later in her life, this would earn disdainful looks from people of reputable social status, but for the present moment, she remained oblivious to the things she said and only remained focused on learning as much as she could.

Jack, of all of the crew enjoyed this aspect the most. He found it entertaining when she would join him at the helm or in his quarters and they would spend hours learning different words. He would sometimes, for his own amusement, drag out long words to see if she could manage it. Of course, after a couple of tries she always could, but after a day of such proceeding, she quickly realized what his motive for choosing difficult words was. She would sometimes stumble on smaller words or mispronounce them just for his amusement.

Jack was standing at the helm, holding the wooden pegs in his tight grip while slowly saying, "man the braces."

Anuksemomo, now referred to as Anne, repeated with her unusual accent, "man th brasses." Jack could tell she had the essence of the command, but how she would learn what it meant, he had no idea.

"OK, let's try a harder one." Jack looked deep in thought for a moment before using his gruffest voice and roared, "all hands on deck yeh scabrous dogs!"

Anne replied in a similar gruffness only it was shaded by her feminism and peculiar dialect as she attempted to repeat what Jack had said with the most terrifying accuracy, "all haunds on deck ya scab-borous dog!" Jack let out a chuckle at her attempt at sounding like him and noted her cleverness, even for an individual that would be considered a savage amongst England society. Just as he was beginning to tear at the private joke and Anne's giggles joined in though she was not sure why, Barbossa came out from below deck and called for Jack to join him for a discussion in the underbelly of the ship. Jack left the helm in the hands of a large bearded pirate who looked like he had spent his life with someone yelling in his ear. For his facial expression looked very similar like his eyes were squinted in just the off-set fashion as if he was wincing at the pain of an overexposed eardrum.

Jack was lead into Barbossa's quarters and sat on an uneasy chair on the opposite end of a desk to Barbossa. The First Mate began with why he had called Jack there, "listen Jack, the crew is misinterpretin' your regard for the young Anne and her company on the ship."

Jack snarled a bit with the upper right quarter of his mouth. "I thought we'd already discussed this, mate."

Barbossa laughed a bit, "yer right Jack, but the crew seems to think that yer objection has been lost in the pursuit of educatin' the new recruit." Jack just stared at Barbossa with the slightest raised eyebrow. "All I'm sayin, is that if yeh want to regain their trust, yeh need to prove it to them."

"And how exactly am I supposed to do that, Barbossa? Throw her overboard?" Jack has a look of disgust on his face, though he hardly tried to hide it. The truth is, he had become quite fond of Anne's presence on his ship. She seemed completely uncorrupted by the crew and their actions. She always had sweetness to her and an optimism that he admired, although he wouldn't necessarily follow her example, but it was certainly nice to see something other than criminal tendencies on the ship.

"I'm not sayin' yeh have to get rid of 'er, Jack."

"Well then what do yeh want me to do?"

Barbossa thought a bit while pouring rum into a small iron mug and passing it to Jack. "Yeh know, Isla de Muerta may be the answer." Jack sat there, not even having touched his rum before giving a confused glance toward Barbossa who took this as a signal to carry on. "Well, yeh say that each crew member has an equal share of the treasure. Why not gain their trust by sharing the bearings of the island? The men will respect yeh for it." Jack nearly coughed on the sip of rum he had been taking before looking up at Barbossa from the rim of his mug. "'Tis a very 'captainly' thing ta do." Barbossa finished before pouring himself a mug of rum as well.

"How far off the goal does the crew think I am?" Asked Jack, who had this point had been trying to prove to himself, more than anyone else, that he thought no more of Anne than a fish thinks of waves.

"They think yer pretty far gone, Cap'n."

"Let me think about it." Jack replied before knocking back the remainder of rum and heading back to the upper deck.

All night, Jack had tossed and turned thinking of what to do. He had just met Anne, and sure, she hadn't been as annoying he had believed, but he certainly couldn't lose the respect from his crew over her. He had, at that moment, decided what to do. He went over to his desk and pulled out an old map, before taking a scrap piece of parchment and scribbling to the best of his ability, coordinates found on the map, as well as drawing a loosely based copy of the map itself. He then set out for the upper deck where he found Barbossa at the helm. Convinced he was doing the right thing, he handed Barbossa the pieces of parchment in hope of regaining the crew's trust. Barbossa only smiled.

As Jack lay back in his bed, rolling over whether he should have done a different gesture to prove his dedication the mission and his crew, two pirates had barged into his room and grabbed him by the arms. Jack fought off these two pirates with little effort. Before he knew it, two more pirates had burst through his doorframe. His ship was under attack! Jack fought these pirates off as well and then set off to Anne's room to tell her to hide from the invaders. He was halfway there when he realized that there was no gunfire or battle-cries resounding from the deck above him. His ship was not under attack from another boat. He looked back at the four pirates lying on the floor in his quarters. The ship was not being invaded at all! The pirates that had attacked him were his crew!

Just then, he ran up the stairs and onto the deck which was covered by a tent of glimmering stars. He looked off the side of the ship and could faintly see an island in the distance. He noticed something out of place though. Jack trailed his hand along the railing of the boat and noticed that once he had gotten to the panel in which the gangplank would be laid, there was a long wooden plank. He turned around quickly as if to look for a place to hide, but came face to face with Barbossa and six other crew members.

Jack looked to his left and saw Pintel and Ragetti holding Anne. Her long hair was strewn about and floating on the small breeze almost as though she was suspended in water. Barbossa came in closer and whispered to Jack, "thanks for the treasure," before removing the pistol from Jack's belt. On any normal occasion, Jack would have rushed to defend himself, and his property, but at this particular time, there was three or four other pistols aimed at body at various angles. Barbossa tossed the pistol into the water and exclaimed, "ladies first."

Jack had expected Pintel and Ragetti to bring Anne forward, but instead he found the crew closing in on him and forcing him onto the plank. He could hear Anne's muffled screams in the background and tried with all his might to think of a way out of this predicament. "What are yeh doin, mate. I gave yeh the coordinates," Jack explained, hoping that all that was needed was an explanation.

"I know, and therefore the less reason to be keepin' yeh around," Barbossa sneered. "Ye've lost yer edge, Jack. Yeh can understand why we're doin' this."

"No, actually I can't," Jack replied. He had been sure that by giving Barbossa the coordinates, he had ensured his place on the ship as the Captain.

"Well, yeh won't have to dwell on it for long." With those as the last words Jack heard before being shoved off the plank. It was only moments before he felt the ocean pounding into every crevice of his body. His only hope was to swim towards that island, or to drown.

A/N: well, that's it for now. I know it's sort of slow picking up, but I'll really delve into the plot in the next few chapters. Yay!


	2. Beached

Chapter Two: Beached

Jack burst through the surface of the water gasping for air. The salty taste of the ocean filled is mouth as he kept trying to the best of his ability to deeply inhale. Jack looked around to see that he was moving further away from the boat every passing second. The water surrounding him was as dark as the kohl under his eyes, there would be no way he could possibly find that pistol in the ocean's depths tonight.

Just as Jack started swimming towards the shoreline muttering all sorts of curses and phrases of irritation, he heard a familiar scream and then splash coming from behind him. Jack slowly turned his body while treading the water only to find that the Pearl was starting to sail away, and in her wake was Anne.

Anne was the most confused she had ever been in her life. She had been on a ship for only six cycles of day before being forced into an untimely departure. After she had witnessed Jack's betrayal, her own fate met her in less than a moments notice. She had been thrown overboard – such a woman would have no time wasted with formalities of planks. As she treaded the water around her, her eyes scanned the surface for a dark head that would be impossible to find. So she did the only thing that would seem logical, she swam.

Back at her home, swimming and bathing were the only fun things to do after daily chores. She was greatly proficient in the art of surviving in the water; however when she washed upon the shore nearly thirty minutes later, she had never been so happy to have found land.

Her nails dug into the sand as she clawed her way out of the water. She had never been so exhausted in her life. With one final visual-comb of her surrounding area, she saw no sight of Jack, and instead, fell into a deep sleep.

Anne awoke to the sensation of some kind of vibration on her shoulder. Rather than deal with the grueling task of waking up, she swatted the sensation away and then rolled over in the sand. However, once again, this sensation persisted with certain urgency, this time located on her back. Finally, she slowly opened her eyes to see whether she was losing her mind, or if an animal was creating such a commotion.

Well, it had been an animal, of come sort. In fact, it had been Jack. It was evident that he had been busying himself with this tactic for quite some time since a wrinkle of impatience and determination was etched across his brow.

Almost immediately, he started speaking in some gibberish tongue that Anne had now grown accustom to. Although she had little idea of what he was saying, she could tell from the sound of his voice that he was worried. However, even if she hadn't heard him speak, she could assume that he was worried. They were marooned on a blistering island, miles away from any hope of rescue. Anyone would be worried.

In a not too graceful motion, Anne lifted herself to her feet and tried walking a bit. Her first success was taking three or four steps forward until fumbling miserably to the ground. She hadn't realized how weak she had been. Once again, she raised herself to her feet and managed, this time, to walk in a straight line.

Although this had pleased Anne greatly, when she turned around to see if Jack had noticed her success, he simply looked at her with impatience before talking to himself again. Well, he was truly talking to her, but he might as well have been talking to a tree. So, to show a bit more interaction than an inanimate object, Anne walked towards Jack and gave him a small pat on the back. She hoped that where he was from, it would be taken as a sign of comfort much like her own home and not a signal of hostility.

Jack simply turned around before giving her the most confused face she had ever witnessed. Anne decided to smile, to show her gesture was in a friendly manner, but instead of Jack smiling back, he marched off into the centre of the island.

Anne sat down in the sand again ready to wait for Jack to come back to his senses, if he had any left. For now, she would use all of her cunning to formulate a strategy to escape this island. But her thoughts were disturbed from a rather large stirring from inside her stomach. Food first, strategize later.

* * *

Jack was beside himself. His boat had been taken away from him, any chance of escaping this island was beyond hope, and he was stuck on this place with a very useless woman. Well, useless in the sense in which any person would be considered such if they could not communicate. 

He didn't know why he stormed off; he only knew he had to get away from her. Once he had reached the water again (and noted that it wasn't a particularly large island) he sat down and began to think. He begun twirling his pistol in his hand – the same pistol in which Barbossa had thrown overboard and Jack had retrieved earlier that morning – and thought of all the ways he might exact his revenge. The pistol had one shot in it. He knew exactly what this meant, but there was no way he would kill himself, no matter how desperate.

Then it occurred to him. His revenge would come in the form of that very pistol. That is how he would repay Barbossa. Once he got off this island, he would use that one shot to kill his mutinous first-mate. First, he had to figure how to get off that island.

His thoughts her interrupted by a rustling of leaves behind him. He stood up and walked over to the source of the noise. In one swift movement he had readied his gun and plunged through the sparse bush in front of him, but there was nothing there. He walked several paces before noticing a wooden door almost a meter from where he stood. Jack aimed his gun and walked around the door while fumbling for the latch. Then, he lifted the door swiftly to find four men in a hollowed out tunnel below him.

All men raised their hands to show that they had no weapons. The closest one to Jack spoke, "Don't shoot! We aren't a threat, we don't 'ave any weapons!"

Jack observed the man, eyeing his body suspiciously for weapons before slightly lowering his pistol. "Who are yeh and what might yeh be doing on this spit of land?"

"We're bootleggers," a young voice said. He was the farthest in the tunnel and a shadow had covered half of his face. "We're transportin' rum to the islands from England."

"Then what are yeh doin' here?" Jack continued. His watchful eye continued to travel around the tunnel and found bottles of rum lining shaky shelves.

The younger man continued, "the passage from England is 'eavily guarded by British fleets. So we're usin' this island as a cache while we transport the goods."

At this point Jack lowered his pistol completely and tucked it back into his sash. "Well then, maybe you can do me a little favour."

Three hours later, Jack sat on the beach with a bottle of rum in one hand and his other shielding his eyes from the sun. The rum-runners had agreed to take Jack and Anne with them when they were picked up in a few days and in celebration, the five of them had a drink. What Jack forgot, was that there were really six of them, Anne was missing. Even still, Jack got to know the rum-runners over a few bottles of rum.

The first, was a tall man in his late forties, his name was Alfie (probably originally derived from Alfred). He had family in Tortuga who were reaping the rewards of his business which seemed to have made a rather comfortable living. He had dark, thinning hair and a strong jaw which made him look like he might have made a good officer for the Crown at one point.

The next, was a thin man with a gold-capped tooth that seemed to wink at Jack every time the lad smiled. He had an odd knack for expressions and had a tendency to use metaphors and similes as often as he used vowels. Jack hadn't really learned his name, and if he had, he had quickly forgotten. So Jack took to calling him the only thing he might remember, Cappy (named for his tooth).

Another young man, the yappy one who did all the explaining while hiding in the tunnel, was no more than twenty-five. His rusty hair looked much like he was wearing a meat-sauce hat, as it was very patted down on his head and always looked more like the consistency of mud, than of hair. His name was Earl. Apparently, his father was a man of high repute and disowned his son for one thing or another. In any case, Jack hadn't bothered to listen for it was something that did not really interest him.

Lastly, there was Theodore. A well-built slab of man that could intimidate even the most feared of pirates. He had sandy hair and a twitch in his eye that made him look like he was always winking. Lucky Jack hadn't paid much attention to him when he held the lads at gunpoint, or he might of run away. Theodore was terrifying.

Jack's private observation was quickly shattered by the appearance of a certain annoying woman. Anne had stumbled onto the beach and all four rum-runners dropped their jaws.

Anne warily eyed them as she came to crouch in front of Jack and gave him a sweet smile. Jack, was taken by surprise and gave her his most fetching-smile in return. "Yeh've missed me, I see," Jack's side-smirk was growing more crooked by the second. Just as it reached its pinnacle of charm, Anne's smile disappeared and her hand swiftly slapped Jack's smirk right off his face.

All Jack knew was there was a sharp pain on his cheek and some crazy woman yelling at him in God-knows-what language. Jack opened his mouth several times to stretch his face before turning back to her. "What are yeh smackin' me for? I've gotten us a way of this bleedin' island!" Anne had stopped her screaming but still had no idea what he was saying. So Jack took to dramatics. He began pointing to the rum-runners, then pointing to Anne and himself indicating that they were a 'team'. Then, he pointed out to the horizon and made a walking motion using his fingers while sounding out the words that went with each action. If Anne had understood this, he didn't know, but she seemed to understand that the strange men would not harm them. So, Jack sparrow did the only thing he could to relieve the tension, he passed her his bottle of rum.

Anne received the bottle, happy to see liquids inside before taking a grateful sip. Jack looked at her with an amused smirk before seeing her face turn into something demented and dreadful and she spit the rum into the sand. Her face in a state of shock and her tongue hanging out of her mouth as she used her free hand to try to wipe the taste off of it.

"Yeh like that, luv?" Jack said with a sly smile on his lips. "Ruummmmm…. Rum," he said while pointing to the bottle then snatching it from her grasp.

"Rum?" she repeated with her heavy indistinct accent. "No," She said while shaking her head and backing up.

Jack had noticed her active use of a few English words that she seemed to have caught the meaning of. She could say "no" or "yes" in accordance with a negative or positive situation (the rum experience clearly being a negative one) and had a tendency to repeat "very good" after saying something new. This, Jack suspected, she had picked up from himself when he had been trying to teach her phrases then remarking on her learning.

"She's just learnin' the language, gents," Jack said to his fellow drinking companions.

"Wha', she don't speak English?" Theodore posed the question while taking a swig from his bottle.

"Nah, we found her driftin' on a raft in the ocean, lad. No one knows where she comes from, or anythin. We jus know she doesn' speak English." Jack looked over at Anne who was busy chasing the waves at the oceans edge.

"And the crew threw 'er over board too?" Theodore continued.

"Yeh, I guess she was too much of a hassle to 'ave around." Jack smirked. The only good thing about the mutiny was that Anne had been given to Jack. He couldn't imagine what she would endured if the crew had decided to keep her. "They did see her as more of a distraction than anythin' else."

"Who wouldn't?" Theodore started nudging Jack who just grunted and walked over to Anne.

Anne was still running away from the tide when Jack approached her. His hand slid into her own and slightly felt like someone had lit a fire in his palm. As Anne turned around, he saw wisps of her long wavy hair scatter across her face while she gave him an inquisitive look. He just lead her away from the ocean and past the four dizzy drunkards on the beach. He only let go of her hand and continued to walk past the beach-line and into the shade of some palm trees. Jack sat at the base of one and looked up at her from brim of him kohl-lines.

Anne stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do, before she slowly edged her way over and sat across from Jack. She pointed the ground and picked up a handful of sand from the ground while letting is slip between her fingers. She said a word, in her language of course, that sounded much like "too hot", Jack decided.

Jack just gazed at the sand, then back at her. She repeated the word again, indicating that this was the word the represented the dirt. "Sand," Jack said, teaching her his own word.

"Saund," she repeated before moving on to the next object in her line of sight. She pointed to the sky and made whisking sounds while she waved her hands back and forth.

"Wind?" Jack assumed. Her actions weren't very accurate.

"Wend." She, again, repeated.

She afternoon went on like this for quite some time before Jack had come to a startling conclusion. He rather liked teaching her his language. In fact, he rather liked her company. There was an innocence and eagerness that radiated from her sort of like an aura, and himself, not being so innocent, was happy to absorb it from her.

Jack liked her playful laugh when she realized she had said something wrong, or he liked her concentrated gaze when attempting a difficult word or he even liked her huff of frustration before he had to break-down a word into syllables for her. It was just a given fact that Jack like her company. Whether Jack liked this fact, was another matter completely.

Now, only one other fact remained, this would be a long three days.

A/N: Let me know what you think, any suggestions, any criticisms? Let me know!


	3. A Barter Off the Island

Chapter Three: A Barter Off the Island

The three days spent with Anne on that island, had to be the longest days of Jack's life. Not only had he continued in spending his time as drunk as he could possibly manage, but he had spent his free time on walks with Anne teaching her every word for every object he could spot, from "drunkards" to "horizon".

At first, Anne had been an excellent student, rewarding herself after each successful completion of a word with repeating "very good." But by the third day she cared little for self praise and only smiled if Jack had shared her success. She couldn't form sentences, in fact, she was nowhere close, but Jack thought that with the proper teachings, she might just be able to communicate enough to hold simple conversations. Of course, why would he care for such situations? After he got off this blasted island, his only mission was to win back the Pearl – the only lady that could tame his roaming heart.

Finally his day had come to get off the island and travel with the rum-runners to Tortuga. Luckily, he had known a man by the name of Buck-Toothed Billy who would set him up with a crew, and he knew a feisty lass named Stella who's father he might just borrow a boat from. In a week's time, Anne would be no more than a distant dream. Jack preferred it this way, over the three days she had rather grown on him. Although he would be sad to part with her in Tortuga, he would also know it was for the better. Perhaps the best way to explain it to himself was as Barbossa phrased it, she was a distraction.

Jack searched the horizon from the beach which had become stained with alcohol and firewood. He watched as a merchant ship came as close as it dared to the island before lowering two three row-boats.

Meanwhile, deeper in the island, Alfie, Cappy, Earl and Theodore were loading up wagons with cases of rum. Anne was twisting her hands nervously while silently repeating the words they said.

"Yeh ready lass?" Alfie grunted while lifting a heavy case onto the wagon.

Anne just peered at him before replying, "very good."

"It's strange," Alfie said in between loads and while wiping sweat off his brow.

"What is Alf? Yeh know she can't understand yeh, why do yeh even try?" Cappy replied, passing a case to Theodore.

"It's strange that we're speakin the same language, but at the same time, we're not." Alfie replied.

"I haven't a clue of what yer talken about, mate." Theodore chirped in from behind.

"Me neither I guess," Alfie replied while he took another case in his hands and continued on working. The truth is, Anne reminded Alfie of his own daughter, not in her language, but in her mannerisms. She found humour and wonder in all sorts of things. "I guess it's just a shame that she'll never know what we're sayin', especially if she never returns home, she won't be able to converse with another person again."

"How do you know that no one else in Tortuga don't speak her language?" Theodore asked.

"Well, it's not any common language, I can tell," Alfie continued his thought, "she doesn't sound Spanish or French or anythin you might here in these parts."

"It's true," Earl mused out loud, "but what can we do about it?"

"I was jus' thinkin' of lettin' her stay with Sylvie," Alfie continued. "Maybe it'll do her some good."

"What, yer wife can teach languages now, can she?" Cappy laughed along.

"Well, if it's learnin' you want, I know a family stayin' in England," Theodore set down the last case of rum onto the wagon and began to close the door. "If yeh really wanna help her, yeh can pay for her crossin' ter England. I'll write ter the family and see if they can get her a fine learnin'."

Alfie turned to where Anne was sitting pointing at the leaves of the palm trees and clearly annunciating the words, "trees, breeze, seas."

"Of course, it'll come with a price," Theodore continued. "You'd probably have to pay for her livin' expenses and her lessons."

"Money is no obstacle," Alfie received curious glances from the rest of the bootleggers. So Alfie continued to explain, "when yeh've been in this business for as long as I have, lads, yeh earn quite a livin'."

Finally, Jack appeared to announce the arrival of the rowboats to the shoreline. The men set about moving the wagons towards the water to load the boats. Jack made a motion for Anne to follow where they sat and waited in the sand while the bootleggers explained to the crew their offer to take Jack and Anne to Tortuga. There seemed to be no hitch in their discussion so Jack took this as a cue to make his presence known.

Jack stumbled towards the crew members who were loading the boats with the cases of rum. "'Ello there, I'm Cap'n Jack Sparrow." Some of the crew smiled, others grunted, and some were oblivious to his presence. "Yeh need any help?" Jack asked, but before any crew member could reply he answered, "well, I'll jus' be sittin' over there then." As he motioned to where Anne was sitting in the sand.

Jack fell, rather ungracefully, beside Anne who looked as though she was witnessing a robbery. Her eyes were wide and watery and her bottom lip would twitch ever so slightly whenever there was a loud noise – usually coming from the loaders. Jack didn't need to observe her to know that she was nervous. After all, she had no idea was happening. No one had told her that they were leaving the island with the bootleggers, no one had told her that she was safe. Well, that wasn't completely true, they had told her these things, but what good was that? They could have told her a shark was attacking and she wouldn't know what they meant.

Jack slowly raised his arm and brought it to a rest around her shoulders. Anne's head slowly turned to look at him as though he was merely an illusion, then she lay her head on his shoulder, slightly shaking. They sat there for twenty more minutes, Anne, wrapped in the Captain's embrace, and Jack, stroking his lovely distraction sorry that he would soon have to let her go.

* * *

The actual journey to Tortuga had only taken a few days, but if it had taken only an hour, Jack would not have noticed. He was too enwrapped with this woman. Something about her deeply vexed him. He couldn't place exactly what it was. He would be lying to himself if he hadn't seen her as just another bed-warmer, or if he had thought she was different from any woman at all. But as their time grew together, he did start to notice her differences. She was clever, and unrefined (much like himself), but in a way that at the very same instant she was elegant. Her very essence was a contradiction, and this puzzled and interested Jack. Hopefully, after their parting in Tortuga, they might meet again.

During Jack's thought, a very unpleasant substitution took place. Rather than having his thought's set on Anne, Alfie's shadow had appeared in front of Jack, and he found himself being drawn out of his daydream.

"'Ello there Cap'n," Alfie said while he leaned again the side of the ship beside Jack. "A beautiful night is it not?"

Jack stared at him, slightly puzzled as to why he would be interested in talking to him before cautiously answering, "yeah."

"Listen, I actually have a purpose fer comin' to talk to yeh, Cap'n," Alfie said while scratching his neck. "I was wonderin' if yeh had any place set up for Anne at all? In Tortuga that is."

"I was jus' contemplatin' that myself, mate," Jack said out of the corner of his lips.

"Well, Theo and I were discussin' and think we can arrange fer her to go to England, to learn some English, of course."

"That's a nice though, mate, but I can't be expected to be deliverin' and paying for all the women I meet to be educated throughout the Empire," Jack said with a bit of disbelief. He would be her rescuer, in all sense of the word.

"It's not like that, Cap'n," Alfie continued. "Yeh see, there's a family there that would take care of her, and I'd pay fer her livin' arrangements and passage to England."

This had gotten Jack's attention who had now turned his body perpendicular to the railing in his suspense for Alfie's imminent continuation of thought. "What do yeh mean? Why would yeh do that?"

"She reminds me of my own daughter. My kids are grown up, they have no use for me. But Anne, she does. It feels good having someone to help."

At this statement, Jack gave him the most confused glance of his history of expressions. His eyebrows raised in disbelief while his nostrils flared and his mouth slightly opened.

"That is," Alfie continued, "if it's alright with yeh, of course."

"Why should I have much care for her?" Jack asked, "she's not mine." For an instant, Jack's eyes flashed with a sorrow which melted away so quickly that one would hardly have noticed it was there in the first place.

"Oh, I would have assumed yeh two were, well, anyways, that's great news. I'll be bettin' she'll stay in Tortuga for a while until I get things settled. Once she's in London, I can give yeh information to contact her Jack, it'll be fer the better," Alfie said with a pat on Jacks back and a sympathetic look. Alfie then retreated back to the shadows of the deck.

Jack stood there knowing that after Tortuga, he would never see Anne again. He didn't know why he cared, but it bothered him knowing that he did. Just as Jack was ready to head under the deck, out of the shadows, Anne crept like a cat until she was standing beside him.

"Jack pains," Anne said with her brow knotted into a look of utter sadness.

"Yeh love, Jack pains, Jack is sad," he repeated before he dared to look at her.

Anne was at a loss of what to say, she couldn't even string a sentence together. She could, in some instances, say phrases consisting of nouns and sometimes verbs, but even then, she scarcely knew what they meant. So, choosing that words would do no good at all, she wreathed her arm through his and rested her cheek on his upper arm. They stood very still, for the longest of moments spent together just satisfied with being in each other's company. They watched the stars change positions in the sky, and they watched the waves crash along the ship. Most importantly, they watched each other. Jack knew that this might be the last time she would willingly spend time so close to him, after she realized he was having her sent away.

* * *

They reached Tortuga on a foggy morning. One could scarcely see two feet in front of oneself. Yet somehow, the ship seemed to sail into port, and Jack busied himself with finding a place for Anne to stay until she would be shipped off to London. He found a tavern, with the best reputation of all the taverns in Tortuga (which doesn't say much). It was called the General's Arms and was in the quieter end of the town.

Jack had intended only staying a night or so until he had found a crew and a boat to chase after the Pearl, but found himself wanting to spend as much time with Anne as possible. He knew this would probably be the last time he spent time with her, and was trying to convince himself, that the reason for his actions was that he was going to miss her.

So he allowed her to participate in his errands. When he met with Buck-Toothed Billy, Anne was right by his side, and when he had struck up his deal with Stella for a boat, Anne was the main reason he had landed the deal in the first place. Well, that and the fact that he had lied to Stella about Anne in saying that he was trying to return her to her home. In any matter, both women had not suspected his lie and now he had a boat – this was what Jack referred to as a 'win-win' situation. He only had to wait a few more days until Buck-Toothed Billy had assembled a crew worthy enough to win back the Pearl.

It wasn't until the afternoon that Jack was departing in which he had decided to try and tell Anne about where he was going. Although he could tell her about his own departure, he could no muster the courage to tell her about her own journey. But to what point and purpose would that achieve? So he settled with bringing her one piece of bad news at a time.

"The sea, lass, the sea," Jack explained to Anne in her small tavern room. But she only rewarded him with a polite smile and an arched eyebrow. So, Jack continued, "I'm goin out to sea, to win back the Pearl."

"Sea," Anne repeated. "Anuksemomo sea," she said while pointing to herself and then Jack.

"No. Anne stays here, in Tortuga," Jack tried explaining again.

"Jack sea?" She asked, with worry pooling in her eyes. "Anuksemomo, Torduga?"

"Yes, very good," Jack said, patting her on the back – his contact was not quite gentle enough to be considered comforting, but to himself, it would do.

At this, Anne's worry turned into tears as realization struck her. He would be leaving her alone with nobody in this dreaded place. Where would she go, who would help her? In an act of desperation, she latched onto Jack's arm and silently vowed to herself, never to let go. He would take her with him if it cost her life.

"Ow!" Jack cried out, "let go of me arm!"

"No!" Anne cried just as furiously. She didn't know what she was yelling at, but she was ready to disagree with anything Jack might say at this moment.

"Fine, then yeh will have 'ta see me off at the docks," Jack said while walking to the door with his new extremity chasing after him. He stormed down the streets of Tortuga, with Anne hanging off of him like a trailing piece of clothing.

As they reached the docks to where Buck-Toothed Billy was waiting in the long-boat, Jack turned swiftly to face Anne. He looked deep into her eyes before readjusting his body on a slight angle and giving her an awkward hug. "I will miss yeh," Jack said with longing twinkling in his eyes.

Anne's heart was pounding and she wasn't even bothering to try and restrain her tears. She wanted for him to see how hurt she was, and she wanted him to feel guilty about leaving. But even so, she could not force him to stay, so with a great deal of effort, she unclenched her fingers from him arm and slowly backed away. She looked at him in the eye with a fierceness that any predator would have for its prey and said with determination in her voice, "goodbye Captain Jack Spayrow."

As Jack neared her to give her one last hug, she quickly side-stepped his advance and shot daggers at him with her eyes. Already, the guilt sunk into his bones, and all he could do was let out a sigh and get into the long-boat. As he sat there, rowing to the ship, he saw Anne become smaller and smaller. Although he could hardly make out her features, he could tell she was still standing there crying. Hopefully, it would not be long before they met again.

A/N: Don't worry, it's not the end of the story, which means they probably will meet again, but probably under very unlikely circumstances (oh, the suspense).


	4. An Unexpected Detour

Chapter Four: An Unexpected Detour

Anne woke up to a stream of light burning into her eyelids. She rolled over in her lumpy bed, to try to bid the light to go away and come back later. However, it seemed that the brightness of day cared little for her own need for sleep and glowed in her face no matter what direction she were to turn. With a sigh of defeat, Anne sat up and lightly combed her fingers through her messy hair.

Jack had already been gone a week. She had no ones company to bask in except her own, and that of petty thieves and frisky drunkards from the tavern below. Alfie had come to visit her several times during the last week while he made deliveries around town. But she missed Jack. His careless movements and disregard for anything other than alcohol and the height of a woman's hem were aspects that Anne had learned to love. She only wished that he could be there with her now as she faced the brightness of a new day. But she knew he wasn't coming back.

Anne was sure that the moment Jack had left the tavern, the owner would kick her out on the street, but to her disbelief, they remained either oblivious or indifferent to her presence. She would assume that Jack had paid for her to stay there longer than he had been a guest. However, the money would eventually run out, and then she would be crafting a home on the dirt roads made from straw and leaves. However, Anne would not be able to show her craftsmanship today.

Alfie knocked at the door three times before slowly opening it to find Anne peering out the window. She slowly turned to find his kind smile beaming at her. He extended his hand to her and she cautiously accepted.

From her room, they walked down the stairs of the tavern leading to the main bar. The room was empty with an exception of a group of men passed out in the corner. Anne and Alfie fumbled their way to the exit before hurrying through the streets of Tortuga. Anne hid her face from curious eyes and lustful gazes. She was well aware that her dress was much different than the costumes the women wore here. Where she was from, it was rather senseless to wear so many layers of thick cloths in the blistering heat.

The pair continued down the beaten streets until they came upon a small alleyway. The two ventured further until Anne could no longer recall how to find her way back. When they emerged from the alley, rows of shaky and worn-in homes were pushed together like sardines. If Anne had wanted to, she would be able to jump from rooftop to rooftop. They followed the fish-like houses until they finally reached a slightly larger and neater home.

Alfie opened the door and followed Anne into the house. Her expression changed from that of doubting to one of complete shock. The house had fine furnishings that she had never seen before. There were all sorts of objects that Anne was too afraid to touch, in fear of breaking the fragile item. She wondered how a man like Alfie had ever stumbled upon such exquisite makes. She also wondered why he lived in such a beaten home when he had so many valuable looking items inside.

Her gaze wandered from paintings of wigged men to luxurious carpets and dark chests with golden lacing. Everything in the room seemed to have a uniqueness and story to it. Her eyes darted from each glimmering surface. Golden and silver candlesticks to the pink cheeks of a painted woman, Anne was delighted to see such items on display around her.

While Anne's eyes searched every item for some clue of it's history and purpose, Alfie moved from room to room, calling for someone. Finally, that someone appeared in the doorframe between the kitchen and hallway. Her hair was messily pulled into a bun on top of the head that was so large that it made her scalp look three times as large. Pieces of the rusty hair fell out of its place around her face. Her garbs seemed like the popular choice among the women of the island, except that hers were not so revealing. She looked to be about forty-years of age with a pleasant smile and friendly aura. Anne took an immediate liking to this woman.

"So this is the girl?" The woman asked with a genuine curiosity. With a nod from her husband she continued, "well then, let's not wait for the grass to grow, in ya come." She grabbed Anne by the wrist, and led her upstairs to a fairly elaborate looking room. The size of the room looked too small for so many items, almost like an exquisite gala taking place in a small shack.

The frazzled woman took Anne over to a trunk in the corner and a rather shiny object. "That's a mirror," the woman said. "I suppose you've never seen one of those before then, eh?" Anne watched her hand's duplicate move around the glossy surface. "Yeh'll be seein' a lot of those to where yer goin," the woman said while turning Anne so that her back was to the mirror.

The woman held out Anne's arms and used a ribbon to measure lengths before she let out quite a sigh, "I'm Sylvie by the way, Alfie's wife. I understand we'll be sendin' yeh to England, eh? Well, we must make a good impression then." As she said this, she turned over to the trunk and pulled out a dazzling dress. This of course, would mean Anne would have her first encounter with the villainous corset.

As Sylvie directed Anne to a changing screen with an almost-white bodice in her hands, she started to hum a soft tune – not one that Anne recognized, of course. After Anne had removed her old dress and now wore the thin fabric, Sylvie snatched the primitive green dress from her hands and threw it across the room. Her regard for the cloth was that close to slamming the door after it has stubbed you in the toe – a completely irrational anger towards an item that did no more than exist.

The next stage in the process would be one that Anne would never forget and never become accustomed to. A stiff piece of clothing that had the texture as though straw had been weaved together then covered by wires and fabric was placed around Anne's torso. Sylvie made herself busy by making sure it was at the right angle and height for Anne's body. Then the feared task of tightening the corset began. Anne's breath caught in the stomach as her face turned bright red. She gasped and clawed at the air and made motions with her hands as though she were trying to scoop it into her mouth. She sharply cried out as Sylvie made shushing noises from behind her.

When she was done, and the corset was in the right place, all Anne could concentrate on was her breathing. She had to take short and sharp breaths to stop her head from feeling dizzy.

Finally, the last item was placed around her body. Anne was so confused with the complex lacings and ties that had to be done to keep the dress together, that she nearly felt Sylvie's hand dragging her to the mirror and pushing her down on the seat. It was awkward to sit, since the dress was so large, she almost kept falling off the stool. However, Sylvie didn't seem to notice while she was fussing with Anne's hair. Sylvie walked over to the fire and pulled out a large pole. As she walked over to the stool, Anne's eyes went large and let out a sigh of relief as she noticed Sylvie only wrapped her hair around the pole rather than trying to prod her with it.

Nearly half an hour later, Anne's hair was in messy curls that suited her face-shape. Anne would have loved to keep her hair down, but as soon as the thought had crossed her mind, Sylvie walked over with a box of pins and set to placing her hair in a messy bun with ringlets falling freely now and then.

Next, Sylvie took out a box of white powder and swiftly brushed over Anne's face then took kohl and very gently traced the contours of Anne's eyes. The make-up was subtle enough not to look unusual or false, but bold enough to add to Anne's natural features. She certainly did not look like the women she had seen parading around the taverns, but she could hardly recognize herself in the mirror. Her youthfulness had been replaced with a sort of refinement.

"Now then, we're all done. Look at you," Sylvie said with a smirk on her lips. "Alfie will hardly recognize yeh!" Anne just looked at her with a look of curiosity in her eyes.

"Come on then, don't cry, your face will run! Let's bring yeh down to show Alfie," Sylvie had a look of sorrow about her face, as though she were about to do something that would make her feel rather guilty.

When they reached downstairs, Alfie sat up from his seat by the fire and simply gazed across the room at Anne. His eyebrows raised ever so slightly that brought a trace of thoughtfulness into in face but shifted slightly so that he would smile.

"Look at yeh," he said. "Yeh are the vision of an angel! Thanks Sylv. Let's get goin then." He latched onto Anne one last time and brought out into the harshness of day once more. Again, Anne was pulled down streets at a rather rapid rate. She was dodging carriages and delivery boys, whores and passed-out drunks. She was, once again, taken on an adventure through a maze of buildings and sights until they had finally reached their destination, the docks.

Anne only had a brief moment to look around her before Alfie was on the move again. It seemed as though time was of the essence. She followed him up the gangplank to a rather slim looking ship. It was narrower than the others both in deck and in sails. Even the crew looked thinner.

Alfie knocked several times on a windowed door and then turned to Anne and pulled a folded piece of paper out of his vest. He handed it to her but she just glared at him with a frantic face of confusion.

"I know yeh don't understand now, but yeh will," he began. "I want yeh to keep this with yeh until someone asks fer it in England, OK?"

Anne's eyebrows slightly creased and she just peered at him with a rather hopeless lopsided grin, as if she were being to polite to give him an answer he wouldn't like to hear.

Alfie reached out and touched the paper in her hands and said, "paper… paper." He obviously meant for her to repeat, so she obliged.

"Pap-er," she replied while looking up at him with glassy eyes.

Before Alfie could say anything, the door opened and a tall man stood in the wooden frame. He gave the two a suspicious look and spent a little too long with his eyes lingering on Anne than Alfie would have liked but eventually a gaze of recognition found it's place onto the man's face.

"Cap'n," Alfie said while still looking as though he might pull a pistol out and shoot this man dead in his doorframe. "Here's the girl I was talkin' to yeh about."

The captain just stared at her and then turned back to Alfie who pulled out a pouch and dropped it into the man's outreached hand. The man peered inside the small bag and looked satisfied enough to continue.

"Well then," he said with a grin that stretched to the light-brown curls on either side of his head, "welcome aboard, if you'd like to follow me to your cabin." He offered Anne his arm but she just stared at him. Alfie then made his presence known by taking Anne's arm and linking with the Captain's.

Anne was led below deck to a room much smaller than her room above the tavern. She looked around and sat on the bed, checking for how comfortable it would be for sleeping. She found it was less snug than the bed in Tortuga and in a moment of realization, she let out a sigh.

"Well, my name is Captain Wynne, if you need anything, do not hesitate to let me know." Again, Anne stared at him before turning to Alfie. She had not been particularly close to the rum-runner while on the cache with Jack but over the time in Tortuga; she had come to trust him and his judgment. What she understood from the current situation, was that now another man she had trusted was leaving her again. So, doing what she regretted she hadn't done for Jack, she stood up and gave Alfie a hug. He said nothing, he just gave comforting pats on her back, smiled then left the ship.

* * *

It wasn't long before the ship had made its way out to sea and was now encountering its first problem of the voyage. However, this would also be the only problem that the crew would ever encounter. A very powerful wind had picked up throughout the Caribbean and was giving the crewman a rather hard time. Anne had heard yelling and screaming coming from above deck and ran to check and see what was happening. For a fleeting moment, Anne had dared to let her heart believe that there was another ship, Jack's ship. But her hopes were shattered when rather than seeing another set of sails, she saw rain. 

Anne stayed under the cover of the upper-deck acting as her roof and she looked around for sign of the Captain, but Anne could scarcely see two feet in front of her. What she could make out, were shadows of men slipping and sliding all over the deck. Terrified and slightly amused, Anne made her way back under deck and back to her cabin. Morbid thoughts and dismal what-ifs clouded her mind before she sunk into a deep sleep that she would not wake from until several days later.

* * *

Lieutenant Norrington, the very essence of respectability and discipline strolled along the shores of Port Royal. The two curls of his dark brown hair hardly moved against the sharp wind. It had been a day or so since a brutal storm and swept through the area and relocated several small boats and a few trees. Debris had been floating ashore of the most intriguing nature. Why, just that morning a few ivory keys of a piano had been found in various locations among the shoreline, but what the Lieutenant was about to find next was hardly what anyone would expect to find. 

Along the smooth stones and gentle water, a rather large dress caught the Lieutenant's eye. He moved swiftly to settle his curiosity before he discovered that it was not just a dress, but a body inside the dress as well. Upon his realization he darted quickly next to the young girl and rolled her over so that her nose and mouth were clear of the sand. He moved his face close to her mouth and felt her delicate breath against his cheek. Quickly, he moved away before lifting her into his arms and running as quickly as he could to the fort.

"Gillette!" the Lieutenant called out, "we need a doctor immediately!" Scurries were heard against the stone floor as men were running to and fro trying to relay the message. Within minutes, a doctor appeared and studied the girl closely.

"Oh dear, what happened here?" he asked while observing the girl. He placed a hand on her wrist then checked for signs of breathing.

"I found her on the beach, her breath is shallow." Norrington replied.

"We'll have to move her to one of the beds in my house where I can treat her more carefully," the Doctor continued. "I believe you will be informing the Governor?"

"After I deliver the girl to your house, it will be my first priority," Norrington made clear. He then snatched the girl up into his arms and made way to the Doctor's house.

Anne woke up with a deep headache and a rather intense dizziness. She noticed that she was not on the ship which she fell asleep in, nor was she in her bed in Tortuga. She was in a very white room with hardly anything indicating that this was a residence except for the bed she was sitting in. She also noticed that she was no longer in her dress or corset and instead, she was in a dry bodice. She looked around the room once more, before swinging her legs over the side of the bed and slowly making her way towards the door. She silently made a pact to herself to never stray to the sea again. It seemed that every time she had traveled through the water, she always woke up in an unfamiliar place.

Anne's shaky legs hardly supported her while she walked down a set of stairs. She heard voices from a side room talking in hushed whispers. She entered the room and looked at the group of men in front of her. There were three, and all looked absolutely ridiculous.

In the centre stood a man of many summers who's hair was so large, she could hide a bird's nest in it. It was unnaturally curly and fell in three sections around his neck. His blue and gold wardrobe only added to the hilarity of his state that anne had to keep herself from laughing out loud – for such acts would surely looked down upon especially form a man who's face was as grave as a mourning widow's.

The next man had a white heap of hair, just as curly as the first man's, but not as long. His disposition was that of professionalism and there was a rather obvious stoutness that was enhanced by the pulling buttons on the front of his vest.

The last man was youngest and had rich brown hair. His face however, was rather pointed. The angle of his nose almost gave his face the shape of a bird's beak, but he seemed not to notice as he stared at Anne with the intensity of a burning sun.

The man wearing the gold and blue walked over to her as she stared at his hair. He spoke to her in words she could not recognize. Although, she did pull out words such as "beach" and "ship". She felt a burst of confidence as she realized the effectiveness of Jack's teachings.

The man took her hands and led her over to a large painting with various contours painted with black. He pointed to a small island and then looked at her expectantly. She looked at the map and then looked at him before deciding to try and communicate. She told him about being taken aboard a ship by a mysterious stranger, and told him about her moon-cycles on the island of strong water, then she told him of her stay in the room in the rafters and her wired cage for her torso, but he did not understand.

Anne had slightly hoped that he might have miraculously been able to speak her language, but it seemed that he didn't. What he did understand, was that she could not speak English. He made a few remarks to the men beside him before looking back at her with an exhausted sigh.

Anne looked around the room for some clue to help them determine where she was from. What she did see, was a painting, far better than any paintings she would find in her village, with a woman dressed in exquisite and uncomfortable looking clothing and a cage with two birds in it.

It was unlikely to achieve something, but Anne decided to indicate to the birds and hope that they would understand who she was looking for. She remembered back on the Rum Island, she had seen a similar bird designed onto Jack's arm. He had indicated to her that his name and the bird went by the same name. Anne was not surprise, for the people back in her home were used to naming each other based on compositions of nature.

Her only hope to find Jack was to use this drawing to try and ask the men to find Jack. She pointed to the caged birds and then pointed to the woman, hoping that they would understand the connection.

All men, just looked at her with confusion, until the stout man spoke up.

"She's royalty," the Doctor said.

"That's absurd," Norrington spoke, a hint of annoyance in voice which indicated his disbelief.

"How do you know that?" Governor Swann asked, he had clearly ignored the Lieutenant.

"Look at her indexing the map behind the cage of birds, and then the crown. It's obvious," the Doctor continued. "She may not speak out language, but I'm sure that she knows who the Queen is. Also, have you not seen the finery she arrived in? If she is not royalty, she must be a noble at least."

"Royalty is a rather illogical notion," spoke the Governor, "but her attire does seem rather fine."

"And was there not ivory keys that floated ashore not hours before her arrival? Other luxurious dresses and items as well! Wherever those lavishes must have come from, she was certainly traveling with them before the storm," the Doctor continued. Every moment his voice heightened with excitement.

Norrington, however, did not seem persuaded into the Doctor's belief.

"Well then, all signs indicate a certain level of social status," Governor Swann concluded, "she will stay with us –"

"—you can't be serious," Norrington interrupted.

"I am, she will stay with Elizabeth and I and I will arrange for a tutor until we can find out where she comes from. After all, we are not savages."

Governor Swann sent Anne a look of sympathy and understanding before speaking a few gentle words and leading her by the arm to a capped woman. He said a few simple words and the woman led her back to her room upstairs where she faced a new changing screen and her cursed corset once more. Finally, she was led back downstairs and to a curious looking carriage.

Of course, Anne had seen carriages in Tortuga, but none had looked quite like this. A feeling of rejoice passed over her as she entered the carriage and the long-haired man gave her a reassuring smile. He had understood her!

Thoughts of happiness of reuniting with Jack had flooded Anne's mind as the carriage tipped uneasily through town. She hardly looked out at the people bustling around the clean streets that had no signs of drunkards or whores running about mid-day. She could only think of how surprised Jack would be when he saw her again. Then she noticed, that rather than heading towards the sea, they were headed inland until the carriage stopped abruptly.

Anne stepped out of the carriage and looked around, her face paled as all thoughts of Jack drained her mind and she realized that they must not have understood her at all. She was standing in front of a rather large house; she assumed that's what it was though it looked more like a large white-stoned box. She silently wept when she realized that she would not see Jack as soon as she had thought.

* * *

Woah, did you expect that? Maybe you did, the name of the chapter seems a bit revealing of the turn in plot that she would not make it to England. Anyways, as always, let me know what you think. 


	5. The Vexation of a Woman

A/N: I'm so sorry for keeping you waiting for so long. I think I'm the world's best procrastinator! Hopefully I'll be able to have the next chapter out sooner than this one! Also, the page rulers on the site aren't working, however, I can't wait any long to send out this chapter, so I hope you don't mind my own creative indicators. They actually aren't that creative, but I wanted them to seem more exciting than they really are.

By the way, killerdoodlebug, your poem made my day, I appreciate it very much!

Chapter Five: The Vexation of a Woman

Anne sat with her head against the desk while she stared outside the window. Rain beat heavily on the glass which, she silently mused, mirrored her own disposition. She had been a captive of this house for weeks now and all she could say for herself is that she learned how to breathe between the wire frames that ensnared her ribcage.

Anne was not the only captive though; there was a young girl about ten years old who went by the name, Elizabeth. The girl was rather petite and always had her hair in ringlets. Anne often found her lurking around herself in a curious manner, but Anne could not alleviate the young girl's prying, she was in no mood to socialize.

Another change that occurred was periodic meetings with a bizarre man with artificial hair. Anne had discovered it was false by removing it one day as the side effect of boredom. She remembered laughing, not out of nervousness of her own actions, but from the man's beet-red reaction. His face had almost turned purple. He never held a friendly regard for her ever since.

Everyday, they would meet for an hour or two, and he would talk and talk and talk. Occasionally he would have her repeat his words, but more often than not, he would just have a one-sided conversation. Anne did not care much for this man, but her captor, whom she learned was named Swann, had quite the mind to keep her in this new man's ever watchful company.

While he would speak, she found herself gazing out the window to the sea, looking on the horizon for sails of any sort, or of a large bird that would swoop into the window and carry her away. However unlikely this might seem, she still dared to dream.

But on this particular day, there was no imaginary bird to keep her company, nor could she see past the rain to the ocean. All she had was this wigged man, and he was putting her to sleep.

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Jack Sparrow sauntered into his favourite tavern in all of Tortuga, the Faithful Bride. He had been waiting months to come back to the arms of his faithful wenches. However, on the journey back a horrible notion had passed through his mind – what if the reason he wished to return to Tortuga, was to find Anne? He was bursting with guilt, much like a passing bar-maid's bosoms were bursting from her dress. This scene held Jack's attention for a while as he headed over to the bar, but as soon as he had a mug of beer in his hand, his thoughts floated towards what he didn't have.

If Jack was lucky, maybe Anne was still in town. No, he would not go chasing after random women. The only reason he could possibly be thinking of her, was because of their harsh partings. With that in mind, he quickly downed the rest of his rum and found the closest women in the lowest-cut dress, Scarlet. It wasn't long after his recent canoodling when a gruff man with certain corpulence walked into Jack's shadow.

"Ahem," the man cleared his throat from behind Jack.

Jack slowly turned around. "Can I help yeh with somethin', mate?" Jack asked hoping that the man would just ignore him and move on his way. He soon realized though, that it wouldn't be that easy.

"Yeh gonna pay fer that, or just browse?" the man asked while motioning towards Scarlet who huffed in return.

"We was just gettin' acquainted is all," she said in a high-pitched voice.

"If yeh got acquainted with every man yeh bedded, yeh'd only make half the profit," the beefy man turned towards Jack, "so are yeh interested or not?"

Jack looked towards Scarlet who had a scowl masked on her face and a deadly glare towards the man that Jack could only assume was her procurer of her 'services'. While staring at Scarlet, her face shifted into one that was quite similar to Anne's. The face of anger Anne had towards Jack when he left her in Tortuga. However, as quickly as the illusion appeared, it evaporated and Jack found himself in an awkward situation.

"Well," Jack said as he pushed away from the table and stood up. "It seems that the time for formalities has come and gone, much like my welcome." His eyes darted from the busting neckline of a dress, to the busting beltline of trousers. He then stumbled back a bit, gave a bit of a wink and said "I suppose next time I see yeh, we'll have no need to get anymore acquainted." Jack then spun on his heel and went back to the bar for another hit of rum.

As Jack sat at the dusty bar and waited for his poison of choice, a short man with grey hair and a weathered expression took a seat beside him. "Rough day?" the man asked after he had ordered a mug of rum.

"I suppose," Jack replied, eying the fellow suspiciously.

"Me too," the grey man said, taking cautious sips of his liquor.

"I see," Jack continued to look at the man for a few moments, as though he was growing a third ear on his forehead, until he turned back to his drink.

"I was in a terrible storm out at sea," the man continued, oblivious to Jack's disinterest. "I was on me way back to Tortuga after a job in a crew which was escortin' some upper-crust family to Port Royal, then all the sudden the wind picked up and blew in a peculiar fashion." The man paused to look at Sparrow, "yeh know what I mean?"

Jack just shook his head, "not really."

"The storm came outta nowhere. Not one ship would be able the survive it, but the odd thing is that they say Tortuga didn't get hit. Is that true?" He glanced at Jack.

"I wouldn't know, I just got here," Jack said while trying to find interest in the corner of the wooden counter.

"Well, yer lucky," the man finally stopped and just looked down into his mug. Jack was content in the idea that this would be the end of the conversation but the grey man, found the urge to continue. "I'm Gibbs," he said.

"Are yeh now?" Jack asked.

"What happened that made yer day so terrible?" Gibbs prodded.

"I'm being haunted," Jack replied, with a rather large sigh.

"By a ghost?" Gibbs asked with a slight terror in his watery eyes.

"Even worse, mate. By a woman." Jack downed the rest of his rum and ordered up a new one.

"Yes, women, the vexation of us all," Gibbs sighed while finishing his own rum as well. "If yeh don't mind me askin', what happened to make her memory follow yeh?"

"Well, it's a long story, and it's gonna take a lot more rum," Jack motioned toward the barkeep as a hint towards giving them the bottle. Then, after topping off their mugs, Jack waited until Gibbs was ready. "I found this woman floatin' amongst the waves. She was worn in by the sea, but she was beautiful."

"What was she doin' in the sea?" Gibbs interrupted.

"I dunno," Jack said defensively. "Now let me finish! Where was I? Ah yes, I supposed she was from one of the islands in that area, but for some reason, had decided to try her luck with the sea. I was on the Pearl—"

"—the what?" Gibbs interrupted again.

"The Black Pearl, my ship." Jack flashed a look of warning towards Gibbs who raised his eyebrows and turned toward his rum. "She didn't speak a word of English, yet, she fascinated me. Before I could bring her to safety though, my crew marooned me on a God forsaken island."

"How'd yeh get off the island?" Gibbs asked, taking his risk with the infuriated Jack.

"Well, it wouldn't be much of a story if I told yeh all the mystery, eh?" Jack smirked then continued. "After we got off the island, and back to Tortuga, I met a man who knew a man who would pay a man who could give her all the things I couldn't. That's where she is now, England, learnin' to curtsey or the art of tea or somethin' like that." Jack looked sadly down at his rum.

"What's yer name?" Gibbs asked while taking a sip of his rum.

"Jack Sparrow, or Captain Jack Sparrow, if you could still call a victim of revolt a captain," at this, Gibbs spit out his rum in disbelief looking at the infamous pirate.

"Yeh mean, this entire time, I've been sittin' with the notorious Captain Jack Sparrow?"

"Looks like it, mate," Jack gave a smirk and swallowed the last of the bottle. "Well, it seems yeh've made me feel better, I think I'd best be off to my bed, or with any luck, her bed." Jack motioned towards Scarlet who was sitting on the lap of a rather drunk man. Jack positioned himself into a rather mechanic semi-bow towards Gibbs before seeking off his company for the night. That ought to take his mind off Anne, for he had been thinking far too much of the recently and needed a change of thought.

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Anne sat with her tutor looking at the piece of parchment he had placed in front of her. He kept using a rather thin and sharp stick to point to random parts of a drawing and had her repeat his exact words. "Atlantic, Pacific, Caribbean," Anne had grown rather weary of this game several minutes ago and kept flashing her glance towards the hallway where little Elizabeth Swann would play with a wooden sword. Anne watched as the male Swann reached the corridor and scolded Elizabeth for one thing or another. She sighed and glanced back to the parchment.

Governor Swann then entered the room and said a few short words towards the wigged man. Anne caught his eye before he furrowed his brow and quickly left the room. Almost as soon as he left, another knock resounded from the door. Hopefully, the tutor hadn't come back.

No, it was not the tutor; Anne silently gave a cry of happiness. Instead, it was the sharp-nosed official. Anne watched him come into the room and sit across from her leisurely after he had given a short bow. Anne just looked at him with curiosity at why such a man would wear such an impractical hat. These thoughts left her mind as she realized he had started to speak to her. She just looked at him and tried to give him a sincere smile.

Norrington smiled back at Anne with an air of silent encouragement. This did not go unnoticed and Anne decided to show her how much she had learned since staying in the Swann estate.

"Tea?" She asked, with a brightness in her accented voice.

"Uh, tea? Yes, that would be lovely, thank you," Norrington replied, taken aback by her unusual mannerisms.

Anne stood up and slightly curtsied before leaving the room to call for tea. Norrington had been keeping his eye on her for several days now. He liked to track her progress. He believed that as soon as she was ready, she would tell them all about her homeland and her status amongst the nobles. Perhaps, if she proved worthy, he might take her as a wife.

Governor Swann entered the room and sat across from Norrington, "come to check up on Anne, I see." He said with an amused smile. "There has been much improvement in her speech, I'm sure you've noticed."

"Yes, she seems to have improved greatly since I last saw her, although I believe it was only a few days ago."

"You have been making plans, haven't you, Captain?" the Governor smiled toward the man who only smiled in return. "Of course, why wouldn't you? She is a lovely young lady, I'm sure in time she will make any man of rank a respectable match."

"Yes, well, she still needs to advance herself in English education before I can start thinking about such things," Norrington looked past the Governor towards the young maid that followed in Anne's footsteps with a tray of tea.

Anne joined them and poured tea for the two gentlemen, and finally, herself. She sipped at the porcelain as she was taught to by her various tutors, and she used all the delicacy she had ever been taught to try and impress the gentlemen with her acquired knowledge. All the while, she pretended Jack was with her and sharing in her successes.

Anne wished very much that Jack would find her waiting here for him, and hoped that in time, she would pour tea for him and have a perfectly casual conversation while nibbling on biscuits. However, she knew that Jack was not the sort of man to take part in such events and would probably leave her on this island like he had left her on Tortuga. She vowed to herself, that if she ever saw Jack Sparrow again, that she would make him regret leaving her there to rot.

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Jack woke up with a headache and uneasiness in his stomach. He looked over at the bed and saw dark hair and a discarded dress. For a moment, he dared to dream that it was Anne, but then reality hit him and he had realized that Anne was in England, and this Scarlet woman was his mental replacement. Jack threw on his garments and left a few pieces of silver for Scarlet before heading down the stairs and back to the bar.

He was about to leave when he saw Gibbs sitting in the exact same place he had left him the night before. Memories flooded back about how he had spilled his story of Anne and his crew to Gibbs. Jack was tired of being haunted by the memory of that woman, especially when he knew that he could do nothing about it. In that instant, Jack sauntered over to Gibbs and gave him a proposition he couldn't turn down. Jack decided to head back out to sea. He could no longer be vexed by Anne's presence. He spent enough time wallowing from tavern to tavern thinking about the horrible thing he had done and wishing she could only understand. It was time for him to move on. It seemed that Gibbs was just the man to help him do it. They would set out for the Isle de Muerta to recover what was lost to him, the Black Pearl, and a island full of treasure.

A/N: As always, tell me what you think. Also, any suggestions on what should happen from here, I hadn't thought this far ahead when I started writing!


	6. Time Lapse

**A/N**: Again, I suck with the updates. Not to make excuses, but school has been absolutely horrific. I am now approaching my first exam and I'm an utter mess, so I'm sorry if my writing in this installment seems a bit rushed (I'm trying not to).

Also, thank you to those who have added some nifty little ideas and given me heaps of support. I have a tendency to fall short of following through with things, but thanks to some great reviews, I am staying very motivated!

Finally, if you haven't noticed by the title of the chapter, I am now picking up the plot at a different time. I'm sorry if this causes confusion, but I had the most persistent writers block when I tried to make the story of Anne and Jack intermingle with the timeline of the movie without tangling storylines. So this chapter is kind of like me taking the easy route out.

**Chapter Six: Time Lapse**

Jack Sparrow was holding tightly onto his ship as the strong gusts of wind wisped tangles of his hair around his face. He stood proud and sort of regal as his ship sunk lower and lower in to the waves. Jack's head whipped downwards and he noticed that the flood overtaking the small fishing boat would not do. There would be no guarantee that he would make it safely to land before encountering the ocean's floor.

He lunged down to the bottom of the wreck and began heaping water over the side of the boat as he watched hanging group of skeletons – a warning to all pirate brethren – dance sadly in the wind. He raised his hat over his heart in respect for the unfortunates whose rotting bones brought about painful memories of the years which passed.

It was not too long ago that Jack had, once again, failed on his quest to the Isle de Muerta. His crew barely made it out of the harbour before a disastrous storm blew through the sea. Luckily Jack had made it to shore safely, but it was enough to stop another attempt at winning back the Pearl without a proper bargaining chip. Usually, Jack would not be so easily intimidated by a concurrence of nature, but had other problems not been encountered on his previous eleven attempts to recover his two favourite treasures, he would make another endeavor.

As it were, he now found himself on the utmost surface of the boat avoided a particularly incurable flood. It would only take a few more metres before he would arrive safely at the dock – should he have to arrive there by leaping, it would make no matter, so long as he got there dry.

There were other things on his mind other than the intention of staying dry. Jack wondered of Anne, and how she made out in England. He wondered if she was in high society or managed to scrape together a decent living – that he could never giver her, of course. He wanted to know if she had changed much in the last ten years since he had last saw her. Perhaps now she could hold up a conversation with him.

Jack didn't know these things, but he wanted to find out. He had made up his mind. After commandeering a ship from this port – since the "ship" he was currently on was no longer sea worthy – he would set out for England to find her. Alfie had given him a few details of where she would be, and Jack had always considered himself a clever man, and therefore he would have enough wit to string the pieces of information together to find Anne.

* * *

Anne awoke with sleep in her eyes to the closing of her door. There was no way she had gotten enough sleep that night. She had tossed and turned for hours on end due to a stream of unrelenting nightmares. She had dreamt of her abandonment of a dark stranger in her past. She dreamt of sparrows flying into the sunset and a heavy feeling in her heart of sorrow. She didn't know why she had dreamt these things but she knew that there must be a deeper meaning.

It has been ten long years since she had last seen her savior. She remembered a tragic man who had rescued her and then had thrown her to the wolves. There was a way about his mannerisms which had always confused her, but she couldn't put her finger on what he looked like. He had slipped her memory. Although she had remembered being angry at this man for the longest time, she could no longer find it in herself to keep fueling the rage. There was nothing she could do about it, but live her new life as the Governor's adopted daughter.

Essie walked passed Anne and opened the curtains to her room, "It's time to let the light in, Miss." Anne just looked up and grumbled something incoherent. Slowly, she dropped her feet on the ground beside the bed. "The Governor asked me to give you this," Essie said and stepped outside the room. When she walked back in she had a box in her hands. Anne looked at the maid quizzically while opening the large lid of the box. A small gasp slipped through her lips and her hands traced the fabric found in the box. She pulled out the laced garment lined with frills and twirls of fabric and held it up to herself in the mirror. However, she knew exactly what it was for – the soon-to-be Commodore Norrington's promotion ceremony.

It had been several long years since the Commodore had lost interest in her. What started with a mild interest in her progress lapsed to a fascination and then to an infatuation. Luckily, Anne had sidestepped his attempts at her attention when the beautiful Elizabeth Swann came of age. She was the rightful daughter of the Governor and would make a far superior match than a Chief Tribesman's daughter.

When Anne had learned enough English to explain her flee from her village as a chieftain's daughter, the Governor had taken it upon himself to declare her royalty of a foreign nature, and adopted her straight away. For what would look better than a royal daughter to promote yourself in society? Anne hadn't minded much, since she had nowhere else to go nor did she know anyone. However, she felt bored with her new life, which reminded her why she had left her village in the first place.

She had decided that living with the Swann's was nice, but spending her days weaving flowers into hats or spending hours with a needle in hand were not her ideas of a good time. She longed for adventure. She knew of only one man who could give it to her, and it was the very fact that she could not conquer his memory that vexed her. However, deep in her thoughts she had decided to set out to find him, and when the opportunity presented itself, she would find him. For now, she would play along as the very portrait of perfection as the Governor's daughter. This would only be a minor stepping stone to greater things. Anne gracefully moved behind the changing screen to change, the entire time, her mind was set on only one person.

Anne finished changing into the exquisite gown and made her way down the stairs. She doubted if Elizabeth was even awake yet. The two of them had grown quite close over the years, the way siblings might. Although they had their disagreements, Elizabeth's juvenile temperament kept Anne light-hearted and content with her current state. Elizabeth was usually chattering off about one thing or another, about swashbuckling pirates or thieves and spies. Her conversations were always interesting, although usually entirely inappropriate. Anne would hate to cut off her friendship with Elizabeth, but she was growing restless and needed a change.

At the bottom of the stairs a young man with dark hair was waiting in the foyer. "Mr. William Turner," Anne said, happy to see her acquaintance. She had seen the way Will had been watching Elizabeth from afar and slightly pitied his longing gaze.

"Miss Anne, how nice it is to see you," Will answered back.

"I haven't seen you in months, all is well I hope," Anne said while walking closer to him. But before Will could answer back, Governor Swann entered the foyer.

"Mr. Turner, how nice to see you, Anne, would you mind stepping out for a moment?" Governor Swann turned towards Anne expectedly.

"Of course," she said while swaying out of the room.

Anne walked into the dining room where an array of breakfast foods was displayed lavishly. Fruits and pastries were arranged in a beautiful pattern over plates and platters covering the table. The silk table cloth was pooled around the exhibits in pristine elegance. Anne had become quite content with such quality for the last several years, but each time she walked into the dining room she felt as though she were royalty.

Several moments later, Anne left the room with a rumbling still in her stomach. She had been summoned by the Governor since they were about to leave. No wonder Elizabeth was so thin; she hardly had time to eat anything. Luckily Anne had always been good at taking advantage of a meal. She was not so fortunate this time.

Forty-five minutes later Anne was standing at the fort fanning herself profusely. She was conversing with an old acquaintance, Victoria Ambledon, when she noticed the Commodore guiding Elizabeth towards the water. A small smile placed itself on Anne's face. She had been so concerned in watching the pair leave, she had no idea what Victoria was talking about when she asked, "what would you make of the ordeal?"

"I'm sorry?" Anne replied, a little too quickly. Victoria's eyes traveled to where Anne was previously looking.

"Ah, I see," she said, looking rather smug. "It was not too long ago that you had the Commodore's eye. But you must look at this change as a profit to Miss Swann rather than an inconvenience to yourself." Victoria smiled and breezed the warm air towards her face with her hand-fan.

"I can assure you, it is not the matter," Anne smiled back. "Although I see the Commodore is quite taken with Elizabeth, I'm sure you have somewhat exaggerated any affection he could have possibly held towards me."

"No, I'm sure you are mistaken," Victoria tried to continue, but Anne interrupted her.

"I see the Governor is motioning for my attention, if you will please excuse me Miss Ambledon." Anne gave a curtsy and moved towards where the Governor was conversing with some officers.

"Ah, Anne," the Governor motioned her over to his side. "Are you feeling alright dear, you look flushed?"

"I'm afraid that the heat has overwhelmed me, I was hoping for your permission to take leave of the sun to rest at home." Anne stated as politely as she could. The truth was that she found these social gatherings insufferable. She could not bear standing as a display to everyone as one of the Governor's goodwill projects.

"Of course dear, take as much rest as you need," the Governor smiled and sent her toward the carriage.

Anne arrived home with a painful headache. The hat she wore did little to protect her head – it seemed to favour fashion rather than practicality. She lay on the chaise longue and fell into a deep slumber. She awoke with a rather hollow feeling in her head, as though she hadn't slept at all. There was a commotion coming from the foyer. Anne stood up and passed to the foyer to investigate the situation.

Upon entering the scene, Anne saw Elizabeth in nothing but her undergarments with dripping wet hair and was being showered by towels from the maids. The Governor was interrogating her about her health and wellbeing. Elizabeth flashed a look at Anne before being ushered upstairs.

"Why is Elizabeth wet? What is the matter?" Anne asked the Governor. He seemed slightly startled before smiling and muttering something incoherent and walked into his study. Anne moved upstairs to her quarters taking off her gloves and called for one of the maids to assist her in changing.

Anne wrapped her robe around herself and stood at the window. She waited. She remembered having a dream during her nap. She dreamt of the same stranger from dreams before with a shadow hiding his face. He seemed so close but yet she couldn't reach him. Finally she heard what she was waiting for. She heard the maids scuttling out of Elizabeth's room and down the stairs. She slightly opened her door and slid through the shadows and down the hall. She arrived at Elizabeth's door and thought it better not to knock. Anne turned the handle and entered the dark room. A candle beside the bed was still lit and Elizabeth looked up from her book.

"Anne, what are you doing here?" Elizabeth asked.

"I came to inquire about the events this afternoon. What happened?" Anne prodded.

"Oh, Anne," Elizabeth seemed to be searching for how to continue. "I met a pirate, a real life pirate." Anne sat in shock waiting for her to continue. "He rescued me."

"He rescued you? A pirate rescued you?" Anne asked in disbelief.

"Yes! Well, sort of." Elizabeth contemplated the contradiction of the actual event. "Well, I fainted after the Commodore's proposal and fell from the cliff."

"The Commodore proposed?"

"Oh hush, Anne, do you want to here the rest of the story?" Anne remained silent and waited for Elizabeth. "I fell from the rocks and, well, I just remember coughing water, but supposedly it was the pirate who had the idea that removing my corset would revive me."

"That's all that happened?" Anne asked.

"Well, and then he held me captive to escape the Commodore, it was exhilarating," Elizabeth explained.

"Just for the purpose of knowledge, what did the Pirate look like?" Anne casually asked.

"He was quite handsome, dark and tortured, and if I'm not mistaken, a little bit drunk," Elizabeth laughed.

Anne's face went white. Could this be the man from her dreams? No, it couldn't possibly. The man in her dream was a concoction of her fantasy, nothing more. However Elizabeth took immediate notice to her complexion, "Anne, what's wrong? You look as though you've seen a ghost!"

"No, just too much sun today, I suppose. I just need a little rest," Anne reassured her with a smile before slipping out of the room to leave Elizabeth to her devices.

Anne entered her own room and headed back for the window. She wondered if she could possibly have a chance to meet the pirate who had accosted Elizabeth. She didn't know what she would gain from this meeting, but felt it was something she needed to do. She passed over to her wardrobe and rummaged through her garments. She found a corset that would be easier to lace herself than the other options, but she knew she would do a poor job. After she had changed to the best of her ability, she grabbed a cloak and headed to the fort. She had no idea what reasoning she would give the guards as to her late night visit, but she was sure she would think of something.

As Anne fumbled through the dark streets, keeping to the main roads moving to the fort, she avoided the dark gazes of the citizens who only appear after nightfall. Suddenly from a distance, she heard the roar of guns and canons. Her heart raced. She picked up her pace to a fast walk. She could see the stone walls ahead. She was now near a run when another round of explosions blast through the air, she could hear the laughs and screams of savage men as they began to enter the town. She entered the fort and headed towards the Commodore's office and began to pound her fists on the door. All around her soldiers were loading weapons and scurrying out the doors and throughout the fortification.

The office door finally swung open and Anne looked at who was standing in the doorframe, "Governor Swann!"

"Anne, what in Heaven's name are you doing here?"

"I came to see the Commodore, what are you doing here?" Anne asked as quickly as possible, trying to hurry the process of pleasantries.

"There is no time," the Governor seemed to have read her mind. "Come in, come in!" The Governor pulled Anne into the office and pushed several desks and cabinets against the door. While doing so, the Governor explained the attack on Port Royal by suspected pirates and how the Commodore ordered him to barricade himself in the office. He set up a corner of the room with a few jackets and cushions from chairs for Anne to sleep until the Commodore returned. Although difficult at first, Anne fell into the very familiar dream of the sea and the dark stranger.

When Anne awoke there was a pattern of red coats and white wigs huddled around a desk with maps splayed this way and that. Anne was still rather tired, but upon clearing her head and the sleep from her eyes, arose to see William Turner in an absolute rage. As she neared the huddle she heard mention of the name "Sparrow" and "kidnapped."

"Who has been kidnapped?" Anne inquired to no one in particular.

"That's not good enough!" William yelled and threw an axe down upon the table. No one had even heard her. But slowly, Anne began to fit the pieces of the puzzle together. The Commodore was flushed, William was enraged, and the Governor was absolutely distraught – not to mention, it appeared that the raiders had long since left Port Royal.

"Elizabeth," Anne whispered to no one in particular. "Where have they taken her?" Again, no one paid any attention to her at all. The Commodore was too busy arguing with William, and everyone else seemed too aloof to even know where they were. "Where have they taken her?" she repeated rather loudly.

The Governor turned to face her, he seemed surprised to see her awake. "I'm afraid if we knew that, my dear, we would not be here now." Then, as quickly as he had turned around, the Governor turned back to the huddle of military men. All seemed to ignore the escape of William who left the fort in fury. Anne made a quick move to follow him and it seemed as though no one had seen her departure. She followed Will down to the entrance of the prison where the Pirate, Sparrow, would have been kept prisoner. On the way down the stone staircase, Will pivoted quickly to take a hurried glance behind him. But Anne had anticipated such a move and had been waiting for him to reach the bottom of the stairs before beginning her own trek into the cellars. She heard voices below, a sure sign of Will conversing with the pirate, well, that or he has gone mad and is conversing with himself. Anne slowly descended the steps to hear phrases such as "I can get you out of here" and "get me out." Anne was at the last step and could hear from the echo of voices that the cell was just beyond the wall hiding the stair he was on. Slowly, Anne grabbed the sides of the wall for support and turned her body in such a way to keep enough balance to allow her to peer past the wall. She could see nothing. Will was standing right in front of the pirate. She stepped slightly passed the wall to get a better look. When she saw him, she froze.

* * *

"Agreed, get me out," Jack said to the lad, now known as William Turner. There was a very good chance that he could get his ship back with this new knowledge under his belt. William turned around to find a lever and in doing so, Jack caught the movement of a person behind Jack.

"Miss Anne," William gasped in surprise.

"Anne?" Jack asked. In front of him, the most beautiful sight of his life. Her dark hair had lightened only a bit due to sun exposure, and fell in loose curls down her back and around her shoulders. Her hair was partially pinned up and a few messy waves escaped around her face. She was wearing a simple and loose, but flattering dress. Jack Sparrow knew he had to be dreaming, there was no way that he had found her this easily.

She did not look as eager to see him, though.

**A/N:** Ok, I definitely feel as though I have taken Jack outside of character, but I'll try my hardest to get him back into it. As always, let me know what you think.


	7. Confrontation

A/N: I don't want to bore you with another lengthy pre-chapter note, but I just wanted to say that I appreciate those readers who take the time to give me feedback. You keep this story alive.

**Previously in Guess What Drifted Ashore**

_"Agreed, get me out," Jack said to the lad, now known as William Turner. There was a very good chance that he could get his ship back with this new knowledge under his belt. William turned around to find a lever and in doing so, Jack caught the movement of a person behind Jack._

_"Miss Anne," William gasped in surprise._

_"Anne?" Jack asked. In front of him, the most beautiful sight of his life. Her dark hair had lightened only a bit due to sun exposure, and fell in loose curls down her back and around her shoulders. Her hair was partially pinned up and a few messy waves escaped around her face. She was wearing a simple and loose, but flattering dress. Jack Sparrow knew he had to be dreaming, there was no way that he had found her this easily._

_She did not look as eager to see him, though._

**Chapter Seven: Confrontation**

"Anne?" Jack breathed again. He could hardly believe his eyes.

"Anne, what are you doing here?" Will asked. With all of the recent commotion he had nearly forgotten her existence. Anne just stared back past Will. Slowly Will realized she was not stunned to see him, rather, someone behind him. Will turned to Jack and then back at Anne and took an excess amount of time to connect the dots. "How do you two know each other?" he asked no one in particular.

"It's an old story," Jack said with a coy smile spreading across his face. "Anne, don't you remember me? Jack Spay-row?" he said mimicking her accent. But she said nothing.

"We don't have time for this," Will said, hurrying toward the lever and placing it against the irons of the cell. He applied pressure and the hinges burst, allowing Jack his freedom. "Someone will have heard that."

"Not without my effects," Jack said grabbing his hat, gun holster, Jacket and compass. He head over to Anne and grabbed her wrist, but she flinched and ripped her hand away from him.

"Anne, you mustn't tell the Governor what we are doing," Will had stepped in front of Anne and grabbed her shoulders. He must have assumed that she was shocked at the current situation, but Anne was far from it.

Anne leaned closer to Will so that her lips were a breath away from his ear and whispered, "I am coming with you." She moved back to see the shocked expression splayed on Will's face. His facial contortion betrayed his disapproval, but one look in Anne's eyes and he knew she was determined.

Anne had not planned on this being the means to getting off the island, but the opportunity was quite convenient and almost seemed fated. At last she had come to realize who the dark stranger was in her dreams, her nightmares. All emotions of hatred flooded back to her. She only wanted him to know that she was better off without him. Thus using him as a means away from Port Royal seemed like a decent method to prove her liberty and indifference to him.

Before she could know what was happening, Will had grabbed her arm and dragged her towards the docks. All the while she was staring at the mass of dark hair of her pirate who kept glancing back at her as though he half expected not to see her. For all he knew she was still a foreign non-English speaking lost girl who would sooner attach herself to his leg than see him leave. Well, she certainly wasn't that girl anymore. Anne must have been lose in her own thoughts because before she knew it Will was urging her to climb up the rear of a ship and her dress was soaked.

"Wait here," Jack said to her before moseying down the stairs with pistol in hand. Anne could here his powerful voice echoing across the deck. "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, savvy?"

Memories flooded back to her. How the Governor had convinced her to tell the story of pirate abduction from her island. It was in no way true. She had chosen to leave her home, and meeting Jack had been a happy coincidence. However, the Governor's story seemed to please the island nobles better than a runaway delinquent. She remembered how the years went on that she had formed a false-memory of Jack actually abducting her. It was one way to further fuel the fury of her abandonment. Her thinking was cut short however, when Will signaled for Anne to join them on the main deck. She saw the Interceptor setting sail.

"Here they come," Will nodded towards the ship. Jack turned his head toward the direction Will nodded towards and grew a smile from one corner of his mouth.

As the Commodore and his crew boarded the Dauntless and searched the boat for the two pirates – seeing as they hadn't discovered Anne's flight yet – Jack grabbed Anne's waist and swung her to the Interceptor under the Commodore's nose. He began to fiddle with ropes and wheels and yelled his farewell to Commodore Norrington, "Thank you, Commodore, for getting us ready to make way. We'd have had a hard time of it by ourselves."

As the trio sailed away from the occupied Dauntless, Anne caught the Commodore's realization as he spotted her standing next to Jack. Anne made a pitiful attempt at a wave, but half way through, decided it just wasn't worth it. With any luck, she would never see that man again in her life.

"Anne," Jack called to her. "You just not gonna talk to me, love?" Will just stared at her as though he was caught between the crossfire. "That's okay, I'll just talk to meself."

Will was about to reply when Anne turned on her heel and walked towards Jack with a look of red in her eyes. She looked furious. What could he have done to provoke such anger in only an hour? "Well Love, don't look too excited to see me." He smirked with a saucy raised eyebrow. "Oh right, I forgot, you were never very talkative."

"What would you like me to say, Mr. Sparrow?" Anne began, her hands behind her back. The anger on her face had somehow switched to a look of superiority. Jack had been taken by surprise. Her words were nearly musical, the way they chorused out of her mouth. Her English was exquisite. No longer did she have a choppy dialect, but her voice had matured to a song-like quality. Her accent had refined to almost perfect English. He could hear traces of her old vocal patters in certain words and phrases, but it took nothing away from this accomplishment. He stared at her in awe. He had left her for ten years and she had changed. She no longer seemed naïve and desperate, but rather graceful and refined. Jack wasn't sure if he liked this change.

"I can understand you," Jack said as more of a conveyance of thought rather than a statement.

"Well, I'm glad that pirates can hear better than they can speak," Anne said spitefully. "Would you like to test this theory perhaps with a recount of the last – how many years, eight?"

"Ten," Jack nearly choked out. He saw Anne react to his lack of confidence and quickly started a smirk, hoping that would be enough to counter her recent interpretation of his uneasiness.

"Oh my! Ten years! Ten long years. How could I have forgotten?" She moved closer to him so that he was forced to look down at her, for she wasn't the tallest of height. "It seems that time slips some memories more easily than others," she voiced just above a whisper. "That's what happened, is it not? You forgot me."

"I didn't forget you," Jack began. "I had no ship, I had no crew, I had no idea where you were!"

"It makes no matter anymore," Anne stepped away from Jack heading back to the railing. "For it is all in the past, and we can do nothing to fix the errors that we harbour in our minds." She glanced once more at Jack before tossing her gaze to the sea.

"Anne, there are many things that--" But Jack was cut off by Will.

"Really, these quarrels can wait. We need to keep to the task at hand. How do we plan on rescuing Miss. Swann?"

Anne left the men to discuss their strategy while she headed to the Captain's cabin. Perhaps she'd find some maps of use. She thumbed through journals and books, atlases and all sorts of entries. She finally found a map of the Caribbean. On it, she found written in black ink, Tortuga. Strange, that this would be the first thing to catch her eye. However, it was obvious that Anne was holding too much onto the past. Perhaps she should cut Jack some slack. She resolved to begin anew; the only difference is that she had an advantage over him. She knew what type of man he was now, and she knew what to expect from him.

As Anne re-entered the deck, she overheard William asking about Tortuga. That was the last place she would want to go. There were too many bitter memories in that place. She would rather go back to Port Royal than face the drunkards and whores of Tortuga. Anne walked up to Will and saw the troubled look on his face. It wasn't until that moment that she realized how worried about Elizabeth he was. She had been so preoccupied with her own theatrics that she had forgotten all about the pressing situation. Elizabeth was, in fact, kidnapped. There was nothing she could do.

Anne moved to stand beside Will. "You are very worried aren't you?"

"Of course, aren't you?" Will asked his eyes were glazed with grief. He almost looked like a child fearing a thunderstorm.

"Yes, I am. But I fear that I have not been very fair to poor Elizabeth," Anne stated. Will gave her a confused look. "You care for her don't you?"

Will automatically looked back to himself, "yes." He had no need to hide anything from Anne. Actions spoke louder than words, and he had, after all, turned to piracy for Elizabeth.

The sun had set by the time that they had reached Tortuga. The ship rocked slightly from the turbulent waves. Jack brought the ship into the harbour before dropping the anchor. He thought better of bringing the ship to dock with no one available to guard the ship adequately. He readied the longboat before turning to Anne. "You are not to come with us, it's far too dangerous and what with your current state, I wouldn't want anythin' to happen' to yeh." Jack flashed an instantaneous half-hearted smile which lasted a split second before vanishing. However is wasn't quick enough for Anne who had seen his sarcastic smile and decided to make things a little more difficult than Jack would have liked.

"Jack," Anne began, gently grabbing a hold of his upper arm.

"Aye," Jack turned to face her, the whole time, his eyes were fixed on her situated hand.

"I had lived here several months after your abandonment. If anything, I think you are the one who should stay on board." Anne smiled sweetly before accepting a hand from Will to help her into the boat.

Jack stood stunned for several moments before following her into the boat and beginning the row ashore. Certainly she had changed. She had lost her fun side. As he remembered, Anne and him had quite the fun time together when marooned on the island. He would teach her words corresponding with idiocy of the rumrunners and she knew he was only joking, but would participate anyways. Now she hardly joked at all. Of course, she had good reason. She felt betrayed. But why should he care? She had been the object of his obsession for years now, and one little misconception was not going to come between them. However, did he really want to know her anymore if she had changed? No. However, if he could bring the old Anne out of her, he could very possibly get along with her. He thought that by sending her away with Alfie that he was doing the right thing, but now he found that she had been twisted into someone standing on the pinnacle of propriety wound in an uptight ball.

This simply would not do.

A/N: I hope this chapter was up to par. I tried not to make it too much about Anne's anger, because that would be far too repetitive, but maybe it ended up that way anyways. Ah well, let me know. I know how annoying certain repetition can be in stories!


	8. The Tables Have Turned

A/N: Wow, five months since my last update. That's bad even for me! I suppose that in some sort of defense, I realized shortly after writing chapter 7, that I had written myself into a box. I started talking to one of my friend who cleverly replied: "then write yourself a lid." This is what I intend to do over the next few chapters, begin to tie the loose ends up and not get too carried away with trying to overlap my story with the Pirates plot. I guess, in short, I am going for quality, not quantity.

So now is the time I ask that if you have any suggestions or ideas that you would like to see, let me know. In case you haven't gathered, I am in desperate need of some good ideas so that I don't wait another four months to update.

Thank you for being patient.

**Chapter Eight: The Tables Have Turned**

The three stumbled through the dirty streets of Tortuga, dust being inhaled more freely than the air. Anne's nostrils were polluted with mud and the stench of alcoholism. Drunks were falling through the air like autumn leaves. They fell from heights of balconies, posts, trees. Anne had not missed this part of Tortuga, she was beginning to regret leaving the ship, she hadn't expected the scene from so long ago to rouse so many memories. As they walked past the General's Arms, her first home in Tortuga, she felt her hatred well up in her again as though Jack had left her only yesterday. She suppressed it, though. She vowed to herself that she would be civil, she wanted to save Elizabeth, though she knew that wasn't the real reason she had made Will drag her along.

Anne had known that she would end up on this quest, and she realized it the moment she saw Jack in the cellar. He hadn't changed. His tan was darker and his hair was longer, but he was ultimately the same. The way his eyes flashed dangerously when he plotted a trick, or the way his smile always began on one corner of his lip before the other. It was in her realization that he hadn't changed, that she dared to hope that she hadn't as well. That they could go back to teaching each other words and spending their time just happily silent beside each other. She wanted to forgive him, but if he betrayed her again, she knew she would be shattered.

She had gravitated towards him on the first day he found her. He had befriended her for the sake of mercy, and their friendship grew out of the desire for company. She knew this, and she knew that he had never truly forgotten her as she had not forgotten him. When she was alone with that wigged teacher in Port Royal, she had not been angry, she had dreamt of him coming to her rescue, and once he had she had hated him. She still considered him a friend up until the moment she saw him talking to Will. Then why had she come with them? It was now Elizabeth's time of rescue, and all though she was like a sister to Anne, she had nothing she could give. She had no fighting skills, no piracy proficiencies; she had nothing to offer to the rescue of Elizabeth. Her motivation was purely selfish in the hopes of seeing Jack's friendship being restored. And now it was painfully obvious that she couldn't let his betrayal go.

She wished for nothing more to forgive him, she knew that, but yet she couldn't. This is the most vexed Anne has been since the day Jack's crew scooped her from the ocean. She was anxious and confused. How could she want two completely separate things at the same time?

Anne continued to muse as they walked behind an old house and into the stables. A weathered man with grey hair and a marbled beard lay sleeping with the pigs. Anne couldn't see his face; it was covered by the shadow of the pig's enormous belly. She dared to hope for a moment that it was Alfie, but she knew better. It must be some pirate low-life that Jack had met on his journeys without her.

Jack tugged on Will's arm and pulled him over to retrieve some buckets of water. Anne lowered herself into a squat to see the man closer. His breathing was heavy, clearly he had much to drink, and he seemed to snuggle against the animals as though he was their piglet. She looked over at Jack who was throwing things about the courtyard, looking for a container. He was being rather ungraceful, as he usually is, and Anne was surprised that still this man did not wake with all of the banging and grunting coming from Jack. She saw Will staring disbelievingly towards the scene in front of him. She slowly walked up to him.

"This is the man we trust to help save Elizabeth?" he said, his anxiety growing with every item that Jack threw against the ground.

"I can see why you wouldn't trust him," Anne replied, crossing her arms and studying Will's face.

Will finally turned towards her, his eyes conveyed his worry, he feared for Elizabeth, and for good reason. Anne had neglected the notion just to put her own mind at ease, but it was clear that Will did not have this luxury; he cared for Elizabeth far too much. "Do you?" Will paused, "do you trust him, that is?" He turned his head and once again the only indication Anne held that he was a wreck was his stance.

"He saved my life," Anne breathed, barely audible. It was a half-whisper, although she feared that admitting it would make her relive it. Will's only response was a thorough stare; his confusion was etched into his wrinkled brow. "He found me drifting in the sea. I do not remember from where I came, or how he found me, only that he did. I often dreamt of it. That a dark stranger pulled me from the sea, but I did not know it was real until I saw him again."

"Is that why you have come?" Will asked.

Anne was immediate, "yes," she whispered. Her head began to drop and she looked towards her feet.

Will looked uncomfortable for a moment before forming a small smile and saying "there is no guilt in chasing after dreams."

"Even if it was not a dream at all?" Anne replied, she slightly smirked to lighten the mood and looked back at Will. The night became silent and all of the sudden Jack's noisy quest had stopped. He had found two buckets and tossed one at Will.

"Make yerself useful," he said, "there's a well around the corner." He quickly glanced at Anne and then glanced away and began heading towards the well. He had no idea that she would have changed so much. She was clearly fighting some kind of inner battle, and he had no doubt that it had something to do with him. The way she would look at him, and when catching his gaze she would quickly turn away. It was as though she feared him; she was embarrassed for being caught.

He plunged the bucket into the depths of the well and paused. His deliberations confused him. Why had she been acting so bizarre around him? She used to laugh and have fun, now she would flash angry glares and would act as though she were thoroughly trying to convince an audience that she had been wronged. Why was it his fault that she was mad? He couldn't have told her, she couldn't speak English at the time! And he had just been betrayed himself. He needed to win back the Pearl before it was too late; he felt no more remorse for what he had done. She was just a girl, the ship was his life. If anything, she should be apologizing to him for acting like a foolish child.

He would tell her that. He would march right up to her and tell her that she is acting like a brat, and that if he had known that she would have become this way, he would have left her in the water in the first place. Although he would have loved to say these things to her, he knew he couldn't. It would hurt him too much to see her in pain by his own words. He still felt guilt from that day, seeing her latch herself to his arm and plead for him to stay. If he had known she would have been in yet another shipwreck, he would have taken her with him. But as it turned out, she learned English anyhow. And she was quite good, very clever. She knew how articulate mental beatings that would make him feel remorse for things he knew he shouldn't. Hopefully, she would move on and see that what he did was for the best.

Jack then realized that his bucket had been in the well this whole time. He looked over his shoulder to see Will who was tapping a foot and giving him a confused expression. Jack just gave a bright smile and pulled the bucket out of the well, the water dripping from the cracks on the bucket and seeping over the top.

Jack turned on his heel, and while still smiling, patted Will on the shoulder and said: "you're turn." Jack began to stalk off in the direction of the stables to see what awkwardness and guiltiness he would face next. To his disappointment, no one, other than Gibbs, was at the stables. Anne had left, he did not know where to.

Anne stood beside the stables concealed by shadows. She just needed time to think. All of this troublesome thinking was beginning to become quite a bore. She swayed as easily from one resolution to the next. She could stay with Jack, accept his faults, move on and remain his friend; or, she could remain angry, stay with Will and wait for the Commodore to catch them and then never speak to Jack again. Both seemed a little extreme, on one hand she was blinded by some ideal friendship that she knew could never come to exist because she knew what type of man Jack is. On the other hand, she spends her life a bitter and callous old woman who spends her time ranting about one circumstance. Neither of the options seemed particularly appealing. Instead, she must find a happy medium, but she did not know how.

She peeked around the corner hearing voices of the men speaking. The grey man was talking about something rather, but Anne did not pay attention. Instead, she watched Jack and weighed her options. He stood there in the most unnatural of stances in deep consideration of everything the old man said. It was as though he was entranced. She was positive this old man was saying nothing of importance which is what made the scene so amusing. To add to this, Will was standing there looking perplexed while staring at this man. Anne could hardly believe such a character existed.

She moved to her original position with her back against the shed. She closed her eyes and delved into a deep consideration. It seemed as though her option was to stay with Jack, either she stayed until the Commodore found her, or she stayed until Jack got sick of her. Which is the lesser of two evils? Although Norrington was a proper man, she could not shake the feeling of his degrading lecture for leaving with Jack in the first place. On the other hand, if she chose to stay with Jack, how long would it be before he got bored of her? Suddenly she heard a holler, unmistakably coming from Jack, "to the Faithful Bride!"

She had made her decision. She picked up her skirts to avoid covering them with unnecessary mud and carefully made her way around the stable. She moved slowly and steadily examining her pathway to be sure not to make any noise. She heard Jack call out her name, but she ignored it. This would be hard enough without his voice as a reminder. She tripped over rocks and water spouts and each time would pause for no more than twenty seconds to determine if anyone had heard her. No one did, she felt nervousness inside her ribs, was she disappointed or relieved? Eventually she arrived at the familiar texture of cobblestones beneath her feet and she began to hurry down the winding streets of Tortuga. She was deaf to the whistles of sailors and blind to the horrid scenes. She had one destination in mind and hopefully, after ten years, she would remember how to arrive there.

Jack followed Gibbs and Will to the most popular tavern for scallywags and low-lifes. This was the where he and Gibbs had first met and Jack had thrown out his aggravations and worries to Gibbs over a pint, five or six. If only Gibbs had been awake when Anne had been there, he could whisper his wise words right into Jack's ear as the moment had unraveled. It would probably be useless advice, but as long as it would help Jack – or at the very least, given him someone to blame – than he would have appreciated the situation.

"Are you sure Anne is okay?" Will asked as they entered the bar.

"She knows this town like the back of 'er hand," Jack replied although, he couldn't push aside his feelings of worry. He had no idea where she went; of course he wasn't sure if she was okay. He wanted her to be there with him, where he could see what dangers await her and he could prevent them. Jack stopped his train of thought immediately; did he just express his desire to protect her? That's not his job. While at the stables they had called out her name, but she had left, she was no longer his responsibility. No, he will not worry for her. Yet he still felt the nagging of his nerves as he continued to search the tavern for some sign of her. Perhaps she had heard his exclamation and decided to meet them there. But she was not in sight.

As his gaze traveled he saw only filthy pirates and toothless whores illuminated by dim candle light. She was not there and he hated it. He had let her go again. He remembered standing on his ship and vowing to bring her back to her natural relaxed self, to remove whatever anger and betrayal she felt. Yet here he was, he couldn't even keep her in his sight for a few hours, what a lousy visionary he seemed to be. He sighed of defeat and headed to the bar picking up some drinks for him and Gibbs. He returned to their table and stopped beside Will, "keep a sharp eye" he said as he quickly scanned the room once more for a sign of Anne.


	9. A Civil Agreement

A/N: Well, at least I am doing better with my updates. It hasn't been four months since my last post (kudos to me). Right now I'm working on another POTC story that I'm trying to write simultaneously but not start posting until it is near completion, that way if I write myself into another box, I can easily retrace my steps. Also, it will make the wait between posts much shorter. Yay!

Chapter Nine: A Civil Agreement

Anne fumbled through the narrow streets of Tortuga. The pavement seemed wet and slick, though it hadn't rained in days. There was a humid haze atop the roofs of the beaten houses that clung to the city walls like a muzzle. Out of the corners of the shadows criminals and pirates whispered profanities to her while smokes drifted from their nostrils and liquor seeped from their mouths. Anne quickened her pace. She had forgotten how terrifying Tortuga could be during the night.

Anne turned down a street that looked somewhat familiar. The shanty cabins angling towards the road appearing like a scrambled jigsaw puzzle in which the pieces did not fit. Anne stumbled forward pushing past shady characters who's agendas were more crooked than the houses. Anne continued her quick pace down the road, her eyes never settled on one person for long. One thing Anne had learned during her stay in Tortuga was that making eye-contact was asking for trouble.

She stumbled into a section of town that she did not recognize. She halted immediately. She was lost. Anne looked around from corner to corner looking for some sort of indication of where she was, of which way she should go. But she found none. Her best option was to retrace her steps. Carefully and quickly she pivoted around and head back the way she came. Her pace quickened and she began to panic. Her hair began loosening from their pins and as she began to panic even more, she ripped the uncomfortable pins out. There was a heat in her gut and a lump in her chest and she shoved through rows of propositioning males. She should have never left Jack.

She finally left the street which she had turned down, but couldn't remember which way she had been going – to the left or to the right? She couldn't even remember how to get back to the stables. That last place she would ever wish to be stranded alone would be Tortuga. Her heart was racing at the point and she was sure she looked frightful. She turned left and began to slightly run. She was fast enough to escape the intolerable comments from bystanders but she still felt like she was getting nowhere.

Finally the roads seemed to become familiar and almost instantly, a sense of relief flooded her body. Her heart beat clamed and the nasty lump in her chest disappeared. She began to slightly laugh at herself and how foolish she had been acting. She hadn't needed Jack after all.

Anne finally met her destination. That crooked house with the luxurious interior. Alfie's. If all went according to plan, this would be the last she had to suffer Captain Jack Sparrow.

* * *

Jack sat in the dim tavern with Gibbs. He had convinced him thus far to raise a crew for his _fool's errand. _Gibbs had known that Jack would never give up hunting for the Pearl until he had reclaimed her, but what made this attempt any different was beyond him. They sat and drank to the Pearl; to the riches; to "oh, what's-her-face," as Jack eloquently phrased it. This would be an adventure that Gibbs would not soon forget, but as he sat enjoying his libation, he noticed Jack slightly unfocussed. Or, more so than usual.

Jack could not shake the disappointment in Anne's absence, she had really been growing tiresome but he still could not function without knowing she was okay. As if on cue, Jack looked up towards the door and noticed Anne walking in and looking warily around the room. Her eyes settled on him, and for the first time in ten years, Jack saw a smile. His heart slightly leapt, but just as he noticed, he shoved that feeling away.

Anne strut over to him looking rather pleased with herself. She noticed Will leaning on an archway just out of earshot of Jack and his companion. She flashed him a slightly confused glance since Jack and his friend had obviously finished their conversation. She walked straight towards Jack and without a word, swung into the chair next to him. Jack sat beside her ready to hear another lecture and have his ego verbally beaten. But instead, she reached over to him and uncurled his fingers around his mug before raising it to her own lips and taking a sip. Afterwards she made a disgusted face and handed the beverage right back to Jack who wore a proud smirk.

Anne glanced at Will who had begun walked towards the table after he had just realized that Jack's _confidential _conversation had finished some time ago. Anne looked over to the man with the gruff beard who was staring at her almost menacingly.

"Hello, I don't believe we've met," she started and reached out her hand to shake his own. "I'm Anne."

"Gibbs," he said, looking at her hand in a sort of confusion before taking it and giving it a slow shake.

"How do you know Jack?" she asked, reaching over for Jack's pint again, but after remembering her last experience, thought better of it and left it where it was.

"Uh, we go way back, miss. Last time I met 'im was 'ere in Tortuga. We were situated quite like this, actually," Gibbs was playing lightly with the handle of his mug, clearly uncomfortable with small-talk.

"You mean getting drunk from some vile drink?" She asked.

"Not even close, my dear," Jack slurred. "We're not nearly as drunk as last time."

"I suppose you intend to change that then?"

"It is my very aim," Jack continued while taking a large gulp from his mug in order to emphasize his point. "So you've decided to be civil then, eh?" he added, barely looking over the rim of his pint.

"I suppose it was about time that I became friendly again. You did, after all, save me. And quite frankly, there are more important things at hand than chasing after revenge for the past. Don't you agree?" Anne said with an indifferent tone.

She was quite different than the girl that she had been a few days ago, Jack noticed. She seemed more relaxed, more tolerable. Even her hair was let down, more like the Anne he had met those many years ago. The things she said, though, were not her at all. Jack decided he liked her better when she couldn't speak at all. She had to be completely dependant on him for what she had to say and do. He was her link to the rest of the world. She was a far cry from that lonely girl now.

Now she would run off whenever she pleased wandering the dangerous streets of Tortuga. Or she would mouth-off to him, pointing out his short-comings and her disappointment in him and his actions. Though, he did love to hear her speak. Maybe then, it wasn't the silence he had admired, it was her dependence on him – that she needed him.

"Jack?" She asked, slightly touching his arm.

"Uh, yeah," he hadn't realized that he had been silent this whole time. "I agree?" He looked down and noticed her thin hand touching his sleeve. A slight tremor flew down his arm and he immediately pulled it back from her. Anne looked a little alarmed and taken aback.

"You know Jack," she began. "I only came here to try and fix this rift between us, but if you don't want that you needn't keep up the pretense. Obviously you don't want to be anywhere near me."

"It's not that," Jack said. How could he recover? Then a smirk began to form and he leaned a bit closer to her. "It's just that yer the prettiest girl that's touched me like that in a while, yeh surprised me is all." He gave a quick wink.

To his surprise, Anne began to smile. She knew what he was trying to do, but she realized this is what she was asking for. A second chance. Before she could answer, Gibbs cut in.

"Wait a minute, this be the girl yeh came fumblin' to me about ten years ago, Jack?"

"Uh, what girl?" Jack tried to cover up this turn of events before Gibbs could reveal much more. Things were finally getting back to normal with Anne, there would be no point of ruining it with Gibbs scaring her off with his tale. The last thing Jack wanted was for Anne to find out how hard he took their separation. If he wanted her to _need_ him again, he couldn't let her have the control. The only way he could make things go back to normal between them, would be to recreate her dependence that she had for him during their first few months together.

"Yeh know, the girl yeh were in a mess about," Gibbs continued. Obviously Jack had said the wrong thing because Gibbs was quite willing to remind him.

"There was no girl," Jack hurriedly added. Denial, choose denial.

"Yeah, there was," Gibbs was very insistent, _too_ insistent. "A while back when I first met Jack, he was in sorts about some girl he couldn't find in Tortuga," Gibbs was completely directing this conversation to Anne while Jack continued to shake his head in the background and deny such claims. Gibbs continued, "He was sad that she gone, or that he had gone, or somethin' like that. That's when he decided to start lookin' for the Pearl again, so he could go and find her!" Gibbs became quite animated by this point using lots of flailing hand motions and sorted facial expressions.

Anne slowly began to tune Gibbs out and turned to Will who seemed more preoccupied with avoiding the splashing rum than with Gibbs' story. He did manage to flash Anne a look of surprise and raised his eyebrows between is current concentration of rum-dodging. Anne then glanced at Jack. His head was turned down looking into his mug while silently denying everything that Gibbs was saying (more to himself than to anyone else).

"Is this true?" Anne asked Jack. His eyes slowly slid up and met hers. He could lie, or he could be honest, but honesty was for honest men and _that_ he most certainly was _not_.

"I 'aven't a clue what he's on about, Love," he replied.

"You're lying," she quickly replied.

"No I'm not." Denial, choose denial.

"I know when you lie, Jack" she glanced back to Will who had now taken the drink away from Gibbs who was nowhere done finishing his story. "I saw you lie to your crew many times. When you can't understand a language, you tend to interpret body language instead. This, of course, is why I will always best you in cards." She smiled.

"We'll 'ave to test that some time then, eh?" Jack said trying to redirect the conversation.

"So it was true? You came back?" She asked again.

"Yeah. What of it?" Jack said indifferently.

"All this time I thought you had chosen to abandon me because I was no more than a pebble in your shoe. But you had really intended to return?"

"I'm a pirate, Love, we are used to pebbles in the shoe," Jack replied with a smirk. "Besides, I needed a ship, and it was a dangerous quest. Too dangerous for a young lass such as yerself who didn't know a word of English." Anne sat silent.

"You didn't abandon me," she realized.

"I've been sayin' that the whole time," Jack sighed exasperated. "Yeh know, for someone who claims they can read me like a book, yeh sure put yer skill to lousy use."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that if yeh truly knew when I was lyin', wouldn't yeh have realized that I've been tellin' yeh the truth the whole time?" Jack took another swig from his pint and finally looked at her. "The truth is, I don't think yeh know me at all. And until yeh do, yeh can't go back to the way things were, no matter how bad yeh may want it." Jack could see a blush racing to her face with the last comment. He had apparently hit a sensitive spot.

"I said I was going to be civil, I didn't say I was going to chase after the past," Anne declared turning her face away from his gaze.

"Then why did yeh come, Love?" The gold caps of his front teeth could be seen between his parted lips, a smile was evident from the slight curve in the corners of his lips. He had found her sensitive spot, now he decided to pry. "Yeh could have easily stayed in Port Royal, but yeh chose to come with me…"

"Will, I chose to go with Will," Anne corrected.

"Whoever yeh chose to go with, yeh've be so fixed upon unleashin' yer anger with me, yeh nearly forgot about her dear friend." He was right, she had forgotten about Elizabeth. She felt terrible that she had made poor Will endure his worry alone. However preoccupied she had been with Jack, she had no excuse for her horrid behavior.

"So yeh see, even if yeh didn't come for me, yer intrigued now," Jack said. His eyes still fixed on her as she slowly turned towards him.

"What do you mean?"

"Yeh had a chance to get away, and here yeh are. Yeh came back to me."

"Will, I came back for Will!" She let out a little louder than intended.

"I see then. Yeh came for will, and yeh came back for Will. Maybe it's Will, then, that yeh are fascinated with," Jack began to feign a pondering expression while glancing over at Anne.

"No, it's not like that at all," she began but was cut off.

"Then it is me yer interested in," Jack said with a resolute tone.

"I didn't mean that either!"

"Say what yeh like, Love, but I know why yer really here." Jack leaned back on his chair looking smug. He finished the rest of his pint and slammed it onto the table which abruptly stopped Gibbs' rambling which had been fluent until this point.

He had figured her out. Perhaps she was still a little dependent on him after all. It hadn't been until he realized this that he truly felt like she hadn't changed. But he knew she had. He still had much work to do, she needed to lose her hard edge and relax like she had last time she was on the Pearl. He was up for the task. That is, until he heard her utter the words he had been fearing she would say.

"I'm not coming with you," she said softly. This had captured Will's attention right away.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I looked up an old friend here in Tortuga. They've agreed to house me for as long as it takes to find another ship to Port Royal. Like Jack said, the open sea is to dangerous for a girl like me."

"I couldn't agree more," Will replied. "If anything were to happen to you as well as Elizabeth… and the Commodore, you don't need to be mixing yourself with the penalty for piracy. Perhaps it is best you stay here."

Anne finally had the courage to look at Jack. For the last half hour they had been getting along perfectly, until now. She had gone and ruined everything, just to prove a point. At first she wanted to stay to avoid him, and then after their conversation she remembered what it was like to be near him. She had wanted to go with him. But then he had to go and become cocky and uncontrollable. She needed to prove her independence, even though it was the furthest thing she had wanted.

Anne's gaze trailed over Jack's face as he starred at her with a disbelieving expression. There was no more smirk and his eyes were blank. Apparently, it was the last thing he wanted as well, and knowing this, made it all the harder to Anne to say goodbye to him a second time.

A/N: Don't worry, this story is not over! I probably gave that impression with the Author's Note of the last chapter, but just because I am tying up lose ends, it does not mean that the story is done. So keep reading, enjoying and reviewing!


	10. The Art of Abduction

Chapter Ten: The Art of Abduction

_Anne's gaze trailed over Jack's face as he starred at her with a disbelieving expression. There was no more smirk and his eyes were blank. Apparently, it was the last thing he wanted as well, and knowing this, made it all the harder to Anne to say goodbye to him a second time. _

"No," Jack simply stated.

"Excuse me?" Anne asked. This she did not expect. She knew he wouldn't be happy with her choice, but she didn't expect for him to blatantly refuse.

"Yer not stayin'," his dark eyes bore into her.

"What are you talking about?" Will chimed in. "She needs to stay, there is far to much at stake!" Anne just continued to stare at Jack, confused as to his sudden outburst.

"Listen, Love, I abandoned yeh once and haven't heard the end of it for the last day or so," Jack flailed his arms extravagantly as though his actions were the key essence in communicating his point. "I'm not goin' to do it again. Yer comin' with us."

"Jack, I don't think you understand," Anne replied. "I'm not giving you a choice, I'm telling you that I am staying. Now is not the time for you to come to my rescue. I'm staying, and that's that."

"Yer only sayin' this to torment me, Love," Jack smirked a little and crossed his arms over his chest. "It won't work."

"I'm not trying to torment anybody," by this point, Anne was clearly beginning to lose her temper. He was not making this easy. "I've decided to stay because if I go with you, I'll only be in the way. Not to mention that spending all of my time, yet again, trapped on a ship with you is not my idea of a good time."

"We'll see," Jack began to lean back, finding a happy balance on the last two legs of the chair.

"Is that a threat?" Anne stood up. She knew this wouldn't intimidate him, but at this point she was confused into desperation.

"Not at all, Love," Jack said. "Will yeh be stayin' at Alfie's tonight then?" Jack examined his fingernails trying to avoid Anne's inquisitive gaze.

"How did you know?" Anne asked confused as to Jack's sudden insight.

"Well, yeh only had so many 'old friends' in Tortuga last time I checked," Jack proudly stated. "When are yeh leavin'?"

"As a matter of fact, I'm going there now," Anne pushed in her chair and began to leave the tavern. Halfway to the door, she paused, turned around and opened her mouth to say something, but thought the better of it and turned around and walked out the door. That man was insufferable.

Jack's eyes followed Anne as she left the tavern before swinging his chair back on all four legs and sending Gibbs off to fetch another round at the bar.

"She musn't come with us Jack," Will began. However, Jack shot him an irritated glare before resuming his previous state of pondering. "Do you know what's at stake for her if she gets caught?" Will continued, ignoring Jack's obvious attempts to silence him. "This is no time to be pursuing romantic interests!" This, caught Jack's attention.

"What? Who? I dunno what yer talkin' about," Jack nervously dashed his gaze around the table refusing to look Will in the eye.

"Right," Will began. "I don't know what happened between you two long ago, but as Gibbs was telling me, when you two met you were clearly not over it. The more I watch you two interact, the more obvious it becomes to me as well. This is no time to chase after the past."

"I couldn't agree with yeh more," Jack stated. "In fact, I would go out of my way to agree with yeh!"

"You would?" Will questioned.

"Yes. Yeh see, m'boy, I can't be distracted on this mission of yers, if yeh want to be bringin' the missy back from her captors this is." Will made no attempt to speak, so Jack continued: "the truth of the matter is, I need to stay focused, but Anne, well she just keeps throwin' herself at me. Yeh've seen it. What's a poor pirate to do? I can't refuse her, why that'd just be indecent!"

Will looked perplexed. "Do you mean to say that you believe that _you_ are the victim?"

"Aye, Lad, I'm at the Lady's mercy!" Cried Jack.

"That could not be farther from the truth, Jack," Will stated. "I've been watching Anne dodge your advances from the moment you two reunited. You are mad if you think that you can fool me, but so far I've seen enough to know that you are the very type of man to manipulate other people. Furthermore, the last thing I want is for you to toss away our current objective of finding the Black Pearl because you are too busy chasing after one of my dearest friends. If you think I would let you do that, you are a fool."

"Believe me, Lad, my sole mission is to find the Black Pearl," Jack said with a very grave face. This is, after all, his main objective and although Anne would be nice company, she would not ruin what he has strived to recapture for ten years.

**

* * *

**

Jack awoke the next morning with the bright sun glaring through the cracks of his ship. Well, rather the Navy's ship. He had half a mind to roll over and go back to bed, but he knew that it would be a bad idea. Sleeping would not get the Pearl back.

Jack stood up and instantly regretted it. He took a few unintentional steps to regain his balance before deciding that standing was not a good idea at this point. However, time waits for no man. Determined, he stood again, he walked out of his cabin grabbing a banana on the way.

Down at the docks Jack could see the crew that Gibbs assembled. From the distance Jack could make out few details. The all looked the same to him, each blending with another. Some were a little short, the others were a little tall, some dark and some light, but other than that, loyalty was all that mattered.

"It's time to meet the crew," Will stated from behind him. Clearly he had startled the Captain who nearly threw his banana far overboard and made a facial expression similar to a person who had been stung by a bee. He realized that it was only Will and maintained a firm grip on his banana before whispering a snide remark under his breath.

"What was that?" Will asked. "I didn't catch that."

"Nothing," Jack said very innocently. "Now help me lower the boat."

As the two rowed to shore, Jack began to dearly hope that his plan that he formulated last night would run smoothly. Upon waking, of course, he realized the plan needed a little tweaking, since he had, in fact, devised it while drunk.

He also realized what a fool he had been for telling Anne she had to stay with him. He would never be able to maintain control between her witnessing his semi-grovel and Gibbs' tale of misery. Jack was sure he was doomed. However, he needed more time with her. The truth is, he enjoyed her company when they were stranded on that island, and when they were on the Pearl. Of course the only way he would enjoy her company again is if he could make her change back to her fun-loving, relaxed self. This was his task. This was his challenge. Of course, he didn't quite need another challenge; he was off to rescue his beloved ship back from a troupe of eternally cursed pirates.

But keeping Anne around did have other advantages. She saw the Pearl as her savior, he knew this. It probably meant quite a lot to her as it did to him. She was also quite clever. She already had her own motivation to save the Pearl; her cunning would surely come in handy when designing a plan to recapture the Pearl. She also had the element of surprise, since Barbossa had probably thought her dead. So perhaps Will had been right in the sense that he had a tendency to manipulate people. Yes, this would be the sole reason of his recent fascination with Anne, it was because he saw her as a pawn. It couldn't possibly be because he felt any sort of _feeling_ or _guilt_ towards their previous situations. Good, he had settled this matter. The only reason he could possibly have for blatantly forcing her to come with him was that he needed her to reclaim the Pearl.

Almost immediately, Jack's body relaxed as though a weight had been lifted off of him. He let out a deep sigh and began to smile. He looked over to Will to had been watching him through all of his transitions between thoughts and his smile quickly vanished. Will watched him with his perplexed gaze while Jack just acted as though he had no idea why Will was looking at him at all. After a few moments of Jack awkwardly looking between the boat and Will, he made a quick gesture and said: "well, let's get a move on!"

**

* * *

**

Anne felt the heat of the sun shining through her window as she lay in her bed. She felt relaxed and at ease, happy and content, she was rid of Jack and of Port Royal. She had vowed once to see him again, and she had, she had completed a goal – of course not quite in the way she had imagined – now she was at liberty to do as she wished.

Alfie had quickly offered her a place to stay upon seeing her at his door. He said she may stay as long she liked. They spent hours talking about the manner of she had arrived at Port Royal and her progress of language and her time spent at the Governor's mansion. Now that she had a real opportunity to get to know him and where he had come from, she was happy that she had a friend like him. Sylvie, his wife, was just the same. She was so kind and dedicated to Anne. It was as though she had returned home to her family.

Sylvie, of course having aged, was as frazzled as ever. Her mannerisms were chaotic and wild. Between preparing dinner and clearing plates before the possessor had finished was one of the many things Anne had noticed. Her appearance had begun to fray as well. Her hair had become quite a bit messier, her clothing more tattered, and even freckles graced her face in a haphazard manner. Alfie did not seem to notice, though, and he seemed as in love with her as the day Anne had last seen them.

Anne drifted back to reality when a shadow covered her face instead of the radiant sun. Someone was in her room. She heard the floorboards creak heavily as the shadow shifted position. It was a man.

"Alfie, give me a few more moments, I'll be down for breakfast soon," Anne said before rolling over in her pillows and hugging the blankets to her body.

However, rather than hearing Alfie leave to go downstairs, she felt him sit on the bed next to her and sweep some of her hair from her neck. Her brow wrinkled instinctively in confusion and before she could say anything she felt cold water rush down the sides of her neck and collar bone. Anne shrieked and sat up in bed before facing her assaulter.

"Jack! What in the Lord's name are you doing?" she cried.

"Mornin', Love," Jack said before setting the empty pitcher back on the nightstand. He grabbed a small cloth from the same small table and made a motion as though he was about to hand it to her, but instead, he began to wipe off the moisture on his sleeve that had landed there as a result of her sudden shriek and his instinctive reaction. Anne immediately grabbed the cloth away from him and began to dry her neck and shoulders.

"Why are you here? Shouldn't you be off chasing after the reward for the return of Miss Swann?" Anne asked with an aggravated tone. The water was a nasty shock and although it had started at her neck, drips had now found their way down her torso. She began drying her shoulders and then her arms and then down the front of her nightgown. She was waiting for Jack's reply but when she looked up to see his progress in formulating an answer, she saw him sitting completely static, staring at her. His mouth was slightly agape and it was clear that his imagination was running wild. In a fit of embarrassment and revulsion, Anne threw the cloth at Jack's face where it balanced around his nose before falling to his lap. "Very nice, Jack," she replied coolly.

"What?" Jack snapped from his daydream and began to blot the cloth at his arm again acting as though nothing had happened.

"You know _what_, Jack," Anne stated coldly. "Now stop wasting my time and answer me: what are you doing here?"

"I beg to disagree, Love," Jack started. Anne just glared at him and pulled the covers up to cover her nightgown while sitting uncomfortably. "Yeh see, yeh are wasting _my_ time. While yeh plan on stayin' in Tortuga with nothin' to do, yeh have no time to waste. In fact, it may be argued that yeh have all the time in the world!"

"What's your point, Jack?"

"I'm gettin' there," Jack said lazily. "Yeh see, I have a mission to complete. Yet here we are, sittin' as though the world is run on yer schedule when yeh really need to be seein' that yeh are wastin' _my_ time by keepin' me here!"

"Jack, you aren't making any sense," Anne stated while rolling her eyes.

"Maybe yer right," Jack took a deep sigh and looked as though he was in deep contemplation. "Well, let's be off!" Jack suddenly cried, he ripped the covers away from Anne and practically dragged her out of bed and towards the door.

"Jack!" No response.

"Jack!" Again, no response.

"Jack!" Finally she ripped her hand out of his grip – though part of her had insisted in going anywhere he had lead her, the more sensible part of her told her to stop this madness.

"What?" He yelled back.

"First of all, I am not going anywhere," she stated. "Secondly, you nearly dragged me into a cesspool of drunkards and rapists only in my nightgown and thirdly…" she didn't actually have a third point but decided that she needed to emphasize her point. So she lamely stated "thirdly… you are insane!"

"I already told yeh, Love, yer comin with us. So whether I need to drag yeh out in yer night-wear or in a first-class ball-gown, yer comin' with me." He proceeded to grab her hand again and lead her to the door. "And, just so yeh know, I am _not_ insane."

Anne quickly realized that she was no match of strength for him, and he would pull her out of that house as though she were as light as a feather. "Fine," she cried. "Just let me dress!"

Jack halted at the door and released her hand. He stood in the doorframe and waited for her to change. She stood there expectantly while he did the same thing. A few moments passed in which the two stood just staring at each other waiting for the other to make the first move. Jack finally rolled his eyes and made a motion towards the armoire while Anne's eyes widened in horror as she realized what exactly he was suggesting.

"If you think I am going to undress in front you, Jack, you are clearly mistaken." She stated as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"I've seen yeh in a lot less," Jack stated before smirking and roaming his eyes over her light nightgown. Anne's hand whipped out and smacked him. The motion startled Anne just as much as it had startled Jack.

"What do you mean?" She demanded.

"If yeh don't recall what yeh were wearin' when we first met, I'm not goin' to tell yeh. I don't wanna be gettin' smacked again," Jack said slyly as he rubbed his cheek.

"That was another life, Jack, one that I wish to forget," Anne said sadly. It was a lie. She never wanted to forget their first meeting, but she couldn't let him know that. She suddenly changed her disposition to one of determination and stated, "if you insist on dragging me out into the God-forsaken town, you had better leave the room to let me dress."

"Fine," Jack said. He grabbed Anne by the shoulders and moved her three steps back into the room to finalize his statement. He then let her go and left the room before slamming the door.

Anne shuddered. She had never been treated so shamefully before. Of course other men in Port Royal had expressed a certain interest in her, none had done it so obviously as Jack had done it. She nearly turned bright red when she caught his gaze drifting over her body. Why the very thought of him making propositions to her made her stomach nervous just thinking about it. Had he ever said these things to ten years before? How would she had responded? She never understood a word he was saying, he could have said a great many things to her and she might have ignorantly agreed or encouraged him!

Anne turned towards the armoire and picked out a simple dress. She tied up the corset as well as she good, being only one person, and put the dress on. She grabbed a few pins from the vanity and moved the front part of her hair away from her face. This would do until she got back. She had no intention of allowing Jack to drag her off on some suicidal and disreputable mission. She may have been obedient to him in the past, but she has raised herself above that.

Anne moved to the door and opened it, to reveal Jack leaning against the wall. She began to imagine the things he might have said to her in the past with his trademark smirk and she began to blush. Then it appeared, his smirk as he noticed her rosy cheeks. She could tell he was about to say something snide and completely inappropriate and that could only make matters worse.

"You may resume dragging me away, Captain Sparrow," Anne reached out her hand and looked away from him acting uninterested. She had half-expected him to grab it impatiently and drag her into the uninviting streets of the town. Which is why she was surprised when he stared at it for a moment or two confused as to his next move, he eventually took it gently into his own hand and looking at the connection for a while. Anne, startled, followed Jack's gaze to their meeting hands. She raised an eyebrow before clearing her throat and looking at him expectedly. Jack looked up and met her eyes. He was clearly embarrassed. He tightened his grip and dragged her down the stairs and out into the bright day.

The last time Jack had dragged her away from Alfie's house, had been at Anne's own accord. She was latched onto his body like a leech. This however, was an entirely different circumstance. The entire journey down to the docks Anne had been convincing him that she was such a bore to have around, or that she would do more harm than good, anything that would make him reconsider. When they finally arrived at the docks, Anne's face paled. Gibbs was sitting in a boat just beside the dock, clearly waiting for Jack to return. He seemed sullen and tired. Hung-over, Anne assumed. Jack nearly tossed Anne into the boat before climbing in next to her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"See? Just like old times," He said while the sun reflected the gold caps in his smile. All Anne could think was how she could get out of this.

A/N: Hope you liked it. I realized that I've been neglecting dialogue in my other chapters and so I've decided to make up for it in this one. Let me know what you think. I must admit, I am disappointed with the lack of review-enthusiasm recently. I like to know what I can improve and what I can continue. So if you see some aspect of this story that you would like to comment on, I would greatly appreciate your feedback.


	11. A Common Cure for the Seasick

_A/N: I don't usually advertise in my stories, but if there are any Scissor Sister fans out there, I am absolutely in love with their song "Kiss You Off." It completely inspired me when I wrote this chapter from tone to plot. So if you don't listen to it because you aren't a fan, try listening to it as a "preparation" for this chapter._

**Chapter Eleven: The Common Cure for the Seasick**

Anne was ungracefully pulled onto the ship by Gibbs. His rough hands scraped against her arm leaving red bruising trailing to her wrist. Anne rubbed the sore spots before wandering further on deck. She saw Will come flying onto deck from the ship's underbelly.

"Anne," he began full of surprise. "You shouldn't be here, it's too dangerous!"

"Don't you think I know that, Will?" She asked in a harsh whisper. "I've been abducted! This was through no fault of my own." Her voice became more and more raspy as she delved into her anger with Jack's rash decision. She knew why he was doing this. He must figure that she would feel abandoned again, but really she wanted to be the one leaving him. Apparently he couldn't take a hint.

"You are staying?" Will asked hesitantly. He had known Anne long enough to know not to pry. He remembers shortly after her arrival in Port Royal how aggravated she grew with Elizabeth when Elizabeth would express her curiosity.

"Do I have a choice?" She replied before shooting a glare from her eyes into the back of Jack's head and storming into the cabin.

Not that she was mad to be back with him, but rather that he had completely ruined her plan. On top of that, he had her completely confused as to where she stood with him. At times, it was as though nothing had happened at all, that they were getting along like they always did. She knew he liked her curiosity and independence – she didn't need him to lead her by the hand – but she knew that like so many things in his life, he would tire of her. It's best not to fall into the inevitable, especially when she didn't know how she felt about him. While his disposition was irresolute, she was realizing that even in his arrogant flirtations and subtle suggestions she could never stay aggravated very long. Rather, she enjoyed his attentions and enjoyed even more when she could fight-back. It made her heart leap when she considered if he had acted like this all along. Perhaps in her other life, of course she wouldn't know he was making propositions, but in his come-hither mannerisms and wayward affections he might express some sort of deeper friendship. Well, one thing was certain: she would have all the time in the world to figure him out since she clearly was not escaping the ship.

Anne looked around her surroundings, the cabin was in impeccable condition – or at least it was before Jack had ravished it. The floor boards were pristine, not one scuff or scrape. The tables and chairs were shining with a wood-glaze and were rich in colour. Even the lamp hanging from the ceiling looked as though it had been crafted by the most skillful hands. How curious it was that Jack had claim to this room, when he was so evidently different. Unlike the tables and lamps, he was less than pristine. He was less than perfection in both appearance and mentality. Then why is it that she was so drawn to him? She had many advances by the Commodore; of course he was always polite, gentleman-like and formal. Perhaps than it was that Jack was the antithesis of everything she had become.

Anne's hand had been grazing over the smooth chair when she heard the cabin door open. Startled, she turned to see Jack staring at her with a peculiar look, as though he had caught her stealing. Whatever expression was on her face had clearly reflected her warm thoughts, she knew this, and so she quickly removed it.

She had half expected him to say something, or make some sort of move towards her. But he said nothing; he just kept looking at her with the confusion she had become so used to seeing. She opened her mouth to explain her presence, but she quickly closed it, not knowing where to begin. And so they stood there, in silence only looking at each other, neither one dared to break eye contact. That was, until Anne heard shouts from the deck. Nothing important, only orders being called from one sailor to another, but it was all Jack needed to begin his interrogation.

"What are yeh doin' here? This is my room," Jack said with a matter-of-fact tone. As he finished his question he slowly took a lopsided step towards her in the dimly lit room.

"Yes, well, it is very warm outside and I should scarcely choose to suffer heat-stroke, so you see, Captain Sparrow, I am merely escaping the circumstances you so easily have thrown me into," Anne said in one long breath. Captain Sparrow. How droll it seemed to roll out of her mouth. Formality was the key, Anne suspected, in covering her current Jack-related contemplations.

"Then why didn't yeh go below deck then?" His smirk was appearing. Damn that smirk. Anne was already become tired of seeing it so much; it made her feel inadequate; like he knew something that she did not.

"It is far easier to walk across deck than down stairs and ladders just to escape the sun," Anne stated while tracing patterns of the grains across the wooden table.

"Is that so?" He started to move towards her slowly.

"Of course it's so," Anne said spitefully. "Do you think me a liar?" He didn't reply. He only looked around the room as though the carved walls could be the most interesting thing he has ever seen while he continued to move towards her, and she noticed this. "Just because you have a tendency to lie and manipulate people, it does not mean that I do." They finally met eyes.

"I think yeh do," he stated simply, raising one eyebrow as his drunken speech rolled out of his mouth.

"Don't be absurd," she scoffed. She looked around the room avoiding his gaze. She was no liar, she had always been raised to be an honest woman of the highest quality. But his words intrigued her, "what do you mean?"

"Did yeh happen ta tell the Govn'er of Port Royal about how yeh were found?" Jack inquired. At this point he was standing beside her and looked down, only with his eyes, to meet her gaze.

"Well, I…" it had only occurred to her now that she _had_ been dishonest. "I suspect he would throw a fit if he knew," she replied. "But in all other manners of my life, Jack, I have been honest."

"We're a lot a like, Love," Jack said leaning down to her ear. She was so terrified. Never has he been this forward with her before. She could only stand still and pretend she was unaffected.

She only sighed at his remark: "dare I ask what you mean, Jack?"

"Of course yeh can, Love," he declared into her ear, softly, almost painfully. "It's strange what a man will and won't do to survive."

Upon hearing this, Anne woke up. "Jack, if you think that you and I are the same because of one simple white lie to escape the gallows, than you are mistaken. I do not steal, I do not loot or do whatever other pirate-duties you seem to approve of. You claim to do what you need to survive, when I know for a fact that you would cheat and lie your way to a bottle of rum." She had stepped away from him at the point but was nevertheless intimidating. "So do not assume that you and I are anything alike."

He was about to say something. Instead he stood in a wobbly sort of fashion leaning on the table she had once so delicately traced with her fingers.

"Please leave, Jack, I have some thinking to do," she couldn't quite meet his gaze and her voice was just above a whisper. Why would she not admit that they were alike? The only reasonable explanation that she could formulate was that she believed him, but accepting that they were alike would make it easier for her to become attached. Becoming attached was not something her and Jack had an excellent record with – well more so the separation than the actual attachment.

He looked her up and down as if she had lost her mind. "This is my room, yeh need to be the one leavin'," he stated animatedly.

"Fine," she turned and walked to the door. She turned only once to see a slight frown on his face before making her way out on the deck and down into the innards of the ship. She had never been so confused before. The way his breath had heated the lobe of her ear, or the way that the gruffness in his voice had her in a trance. He was a born liar, and he seemed to have some kind of entrancement upon her; this make Jack Sparrow a very dangerous man.

* * *

Jack sat in his cabin, the lights flickering with the beating of the waves. He sat on the chair that Anne had been so close to when he had first spotted her in his room. She had looked deep in thought, a happy thought, which she seemed the need to hide from him. He picked up a knife from the table and began to spin it on end while contemplating his situation. 

Perhaps Will was right, she was a distraction, and he did need to be completely focused to regain the Pearl, especially with the rumoured curse being effectively confirmed in Port Royal. She was not as he remembered her, and although he had vowed to turn her back into the person she was when they met, he could not. But this new Anne began to grow on him. She was defiant, independent, free – much like himself. He wasn't sure if he would want to change her back, not when he has seen this new side of her.

She was still so mysterious, as well. He never knew how she would react to him. At one point she was fuming as a result of a quirky comment – which he always took heed to being the most delicate and appropriately placed – but other times she would be choking out her words after a carefully planned breath in the ear or skin-to-skin contact. Perhaps he had some sort of thrall over her indeed.

He might as well enjoy it as it lasts, since once he regains the Pearl there is a slim to none chance of her staying out to sea as part of his crew – especially with the capture Miss-what's-her-face and the Whelp in tow. Yes, Jack decided, he would have some fun. Jack threw the knife that he had been spinning deep into the wood of the table before standing and walking out the cabin door.

* * *

Anne lay on her cot. Her fingers rubbing circles on her temples as the ship rocked from side to side. She felt disgusting, both inside and out. Her hair, she felt, was grimy and stringy. There was nothing she would desire more than to wash it in the finest perfumes and scents. He stomach was turning with the waves and the gentle lapping sounds coming from the other side of her wall was terribly vexing. She let out a deep sigh, as though it would somehow ease her suffering. 

She had never suffered seasickness before. Not on the way to Tortuga, or on her way to Port Royal, or even a decade before on her adventures with Jack. Perhaps she had recently developed it, or more likely, perhaps it was due to her current mental battle pertaining to a certain dark-haired pirate. Yes, almost as instantly as she had considered that, her sickness had begun to wane. That is, until her door opened and the said pirate made her stomach turn again.

"Jack, I told you I wished to be alone," Anne said as she rolled over.

"I thought that leavin' yeh alone with yer thoughts fer too long may be a bad thing," Jack said in a joking sort of tone. He noticed of her hands was on her stomach and the other on her forehead. "Are yeh sick?"

"No," she replied quickly. Upon meeting his gaze another roll of nausea announced itself in her abdomen, "ugh, yes," she reconsidered.

She felt the cot shift slightly and felt Jack's hand moving to replace hers on her forehead. She closed her eyes and rolled onto her back to give him easier access to her forehead. His hand stayed on her forehead for a moment or two before his thumb began brushing her brow. Her eyes shot open and widened at his actions before she finally mustered the courage to look to his face. His expression varied between one of concern and one as though he were a young boy who was avoiding punishment for something he ought not have done. She moved her hand up to his and gently removed it.

"What is your prognosis?" She asked.

"My what?" He replied quickly, mostly due to his distraction of her hand still on his own. It was as though he was unsure if he really wanted to be anywhere near her. Not that she would say much has changed. As she remembered, his looks when they first met varied from annoyance to protectiveness, and as their time went on he slowly began to show concern – amongst many unreadable expressions that she had learned to ignore.

"What is wrong with me?" Anne rephrased.

"Uh, seasickness, that's what it is," Jack said quickly tearing his hand away form hers. "Yeh'll be just fine." He looked at her for a moment, and then around the room before suggestively arching an eyebrow and leaning closer to her. "Yeh know, I could recommend a sure cure."

"Really?" Anne inquired disbelievingly.

"Believe me, when has 'ol Jack ever lead yeh astray?" He said while delicately tracing the sheets of her cot as though they were made of glass. She only huffed in response which gave Jack his cue to continue. "They say that spendin' the night in the arms of a—"

"I don't think so Jack," Anne cut him off.

"Yeh didn't even hear what I was gonna say," Jack exclaimed. He feigned a hurt expression in hopes that she would somehow feel guilt enough into agreeing.

"Jack, don't be ridiculous," she balanced her torso on her elbows before gazing over at him. "You and I, Jack, we may be alike in some respects, but we will never be _that_ alike." After she said that she looked into his eyes which were shaped like a sad puppy's. Was he trying to seduce her? She knew Jack was awkward at many things, and she knew that he was quite the 'ladies man' but she didn't assume that the two aspects of him would be hand-in-hand. She decided to investigate.

"Besides," she continued while looking him straight in the eye. "What sort of lady would I be if I just let you _cure_ me with nothing in return?"

Jack raised both of his eyebrows in a sort of semi-shock state; he could not believe what he was hearing. He had no answer. He leaned closer to her, mere inches away and whispered: "Yeh'd be no lady at all."

She began to move slowly to his ear, mimicking his early actions to her – only this time she ignored his breath on her cheek and the heat from his skin. "Exactly," she whispered before lying down on the bed and waving him off while saying nonchalantly, "unfortunately I cannot take you up on your offer Mr. Sparrow, but thank you for your eager desire to help."

Jack remained leaning over her body for a moment or two slightly confused. What had he said? He finally removed himself from her immediate proximity when he saw she had no desire to move. He stumbled out of the room and ungracefully climbed the stairs. He was so close, finally enjoying his time with her again and she had to go and ruin it. He was confused, embarrassed and frustrated. God help the next man he came across.

He was greeted at the top of the stairs by Will.

_A/N: Sorry it's so short, I'll make the next chapter longer, I promise. I'll also include some other characters other than only Jack and Anne into the next chapter as well. I suppose I was just getting frustrated with my own character and needed her to "grow a pair" (to state it plainly)._

_So let me know if you like this turn of development, should I continue in my new direction or stick to my old route?_


	12. Only a Phase

A/N: I'm glad for so much feedback on my new direction. I hope you will be as continuously pleased with this development as I am.

Chapter Twelve: Only a Phase

Poor Will stood at the top of the stairs when a very aggravated and fuming Captain made his way to the deck.

"Jack," Will began, unsure of how to proceed. "We're approaching a storm."

"All hands man their stations," Jack waved off as he roughly passed Will and broke through to the deck. The large doors made a loud _thwack _as they ungraciously hit the side of the ship.

"Jack, it would be wise to take a different course of action," Will said calmly following Jack. But Jack paid no mind as he raced his way up to the helm and unbuckled his spyglass from his belt. He lifted it to his eye and took a long hard look on the horizon. "Jack," Will repeated.

"Listen," Jack sighed in frustration, "yeh want to save yer Victoria, do yeh?"

"Her name is Elizabeth," Will corrected.

"Elizabeth, my mistake," Jack stated indifferently as though it were more of a formality than an actual concern. "Yeh want to save yer Elizabeth, then?"

"Yes," Will plainly stated.

"Then the only way we're gonna get to her in time is to sail right through this storm, savvy?" Jack asked rushing through his statement with the most animated of hand movements. His frustration was still present, but it seemed the more gestures and snarls he acted, the less he recognized his own anger.

"Jack, this is no time to be rash," Will said, "if we are killed in this storm we may not be able to save Elizabeth at all!"

"Well what would yeh like me to do, Master Turner?" Jack's arms flailed wildly and he swiveled his position to face Will completely. "Why is she even worth goin' after? Is she worth some reward, perhaps, or maybe yeh plan to marry her, in either case I don't think she's worth it!"

"Of course she is!" Cried Will. "She is the only reason you are standing here as a free man right now!"

"Of course, yeh are right in that respect, but how long after we rescue her will she be getting' on yer last nerve, eh?" Jack began to speak very seriously, "when will she begin makin' yeh do things yeh don't wanna do, or makin' yeh feel guilty?"

"I don't know what you are talking about," Will stated loyally. "Elizabeth would never do that."

"Trust me Young William, _all_ women do that," Jack said while giving Will a clap on the back and turning back to the setting sun.

William stood there silently, contemplating the truth behind Jack's words. He did not know much about women. The only woman he had ever loved had been, and still is, Elizabeth, yet he could not muster the courage to tell her how he truly felt. Although from their brief encounters, he had always been lead to believe that she was an honest sort of person, character of the highest quality. She would never intentionally hurt someone. He shook his head and cleared his thoughts. He could not make heads or tails of Jack's argument unless Jack was referring to someone else. Will was permanently deterred from his thought by Jack's shouting and the crew running to their stations across the deck. Will only stared at Jack a few moments before finding a place to be of use. It would be a matter of minutes before they landed in the storm and maybe hours before they emerged, if they emerged at all.

* * *

Anne sat on her cot below deck. She noticed that the waves had begun to crash harder against the side of the boat. She hadn't felt sick since Jack left, but if he should return any time soon, with a combination of the rocky waves she felt she might perish. 

She began to smooth out the wrinkles in her dress; it had been quite worn out since her abduction to the ship. She hardly had time to fasten it, let alone make sure it didn't drag on the ground as she was half-dragged to the ship. Now that she thought about it, she wondered if Sylvie and Alfie were wondering where she was. Perhaps they didn't even know she was missing, or perhaps they had known that she wouldn't be staying all along. She would be devastated if they had any part of this. Once again she felt her stomach toss over and she lay back down on the bed and curled into the smallest ball she could muster.

"What do you want from me?" She cried to no one in particular. However, right as she uttered those words, a sudden jerk in the ship had her sitting up immediately. She had not been upon deck for an hour or so now, so she felt as though she were left in the dark about the crew's on-goings. But one thing that was for certain: a sudden jerk on a ship, in any account, was by no means a good thing.

She heard shouting from above deck that traveled through the wood. She stood and crept her way to the door, listening for any sound of gunfire or clanging metal. Upon hearing no sounds of that sort, she crept further along the creaking floorboards and towards the stairs. Once again, a quick jolt had pulled Anne to her knees at the first step and she clung to the railing for support. She could feel the waves thrashing about the ship, now –curious that she had not felt them sooner – and small puddles of water were leaking their way down the stairs. Whilst still latched to the secure railing, she climbed her way up the stairs and to the door to the deck. She saw water oozing through the cracks of the door as though the entire boat had been submerged.

The thrashes had become closer together now and Anne would experience one every few moments, barely enough time to catch her breath. She was terrified and did not actually want to open the door, but curiosity got the better of her and she reached for the latch. As soon as she was about to open the door, it opened by itself. A large gust of wind and rain sprayed into her face as another unexpected force grabbed her arm and dragged her down the stairs. She turned back to the door and saw nothing except sharp flashes of light illuminating horizontal rain. Powerful wind pried at the floorboards and between the cracks of doors while the roar of thunder was deafening.

She had never enjoyed storms much, especially when the last two she had experienced had left her shipwrecked. With this in mind, she began to panic. Never the one to be suspicious, she could not control her worry that this storm was a bad omen. She rushed to greet the surface of the deck to abandon ship or do anything that might seem the least bit productive. However, this constant force that was dragging her down the stairs was not one to be intervened with. She turned towards her outstretched arm and realized a very wet and disgruntled Jack was her assaulter. Just as predicted another wave of nausea hit her and the sudden rocks of the waves and howling wind did nothing to ease her suffering. In a moment of desperate protest she began the halt her steps and scratch at his hand to let her go. He ignored her completely and continued to drag her. Her eyes began to water as her panic only increased and she began to claw harder at his iron knuckles, doing anything she needed to escape his grasp. She tried firmly planting her feet into the ground and even running in the opposite direction, but this action combined with a powerful jerk of the ship only landed the two of them against a very hard wall. Anne had no time to think of her current situation, any proximity or foolish ponderings as she continued to scratch, kick and tear at Jack.

"Stop doin' that!" He yelled furiously. His voice was deep and powerful, husky and, for once, completely serious. She immediately stopped. Jack became instantly confused, he had not suspected this to work. Instead of merging as deep as she could with the wall, she began to cry. Jack rolled his eyes, he had not intended to upset her, only to stop her vicious assault on his hand. "Listen, Love, I didn't mean to yell so loudly."

"It's not that Jack," Anne looked up with red watery eyes and flushed cheeks. "I am terrified, Jack, absolutely terrified!" Jack stared at her a moment or two before awkwardly helping her into a hug. It was by no means affectionate, he seemed confused by her closeness and acceptance in his arms.

"The last two times I have experienced storms on a ship, I have been washed away, Jack," she muffled into his chest. He took to combing through her hair, although his ringed fingers continuously got knotted in her dark strands and Jack forfeited the action seeing as it was in no way as comforting as he might have hoped.

"Yeh think yer gonna end up at the bottom of the ocean?" Jack asked hesitantly.

"Yes, Jack, is there any other possible outcome?" Anne said looking up at him. She was a mess. Her hair had become frizzy and parts were stuck to her face from her wet tears, her entire face had become flushed and her eyes were so glassy that Jack thought he could not even see past their reflections. He had never seen her this uncollected before, it was certainly a new side to her.

"Well, I'm the best Pirate Captain in all the Caribbean, savvy," he said with great pride. "My only real passion is the sea, and there is no way she'll be mistreatin' me after all I've given her, eh?" Jack smiled down at her; all his previous aggravations forgotten.

"I suppose," she was hesitant.

"Come on, let's go to yer room," Jack said softly.

"If you think that you can take advantage of my current situation, Mr. Sparrow, you are gravely mistaken," she said in a light-hearted manner.

"I wouldn't dream of it, Love," he watched her slide out from between him and the wall and retreat to her room before closing the door. He had never been good at comforting people before, nor did he choose to try. She seemed so easy to please, he noted, though he could not be sure why. He did not have much time to dwell on the manner, rather, he took several quick steps to the stairs and marched on up towards the deck to brave out the storm.

Anne heard him marching up the stairs from the other side of the door, she slowly slid down the wood into a sitting position and she rocked herself into a cry. She had never been so confused. No matter how angry she had ever been with Jack after he left her in Tortuga, his current actions were contradicting everything he had ever given her reason to doubt him about. He seemed kind, although he hid it well, and tolerable on many levels, and even somewhat affectionate. She could not stay mad at him, though she tried very hard. If he had made some kind of selfish advance to her, she would easily become frustrated and turn away, yet some part of her urged her not to resist so quickly and this troubled her endlessly. He was not the sort of man you would give your heart to, she knew this, yet she found herself under his charm time and time again. She could not change who he was, which made him dangerous, especially for a woman of her repute. However, did she not throw away any social standing she might have had when she turned to piracy in hopes to reclaim some previous part of her? Even with this in mind, she did not want to end up some notch on his belt or anything of the sort, and she was sure this was a passing phase.

Her cries eventually turned to whimpers, and her whimpers to the deep breathing of one who sleeps. Her eyes were swollen and her cheeks the colour of radishes. Her hair was frizzy and sticky and her dress was wrinkled and damp. In all of her glory she rested in the corner between the door and her bed completely asleep and dreaming the first sweet dream she had in awhile. She dreamt of endless forests and placid ponds and winding streams and absolutely no invention of man. She lay in the beds of flowers in one of her old thin dresses from her home. It was in no way ornate or beautiful; it was perfect. There were no corsets or laces or heeled shoes or flowery hats, only one layer of loose fabric between her and the earth. There was no conflict between swashbucklers or socialites, only complete and utter peace. She knew that she often wished to go home, back to where she belonged and escape all of these new horrors she had been presented with, but she could not. She had left there for a reason and even at her worst, she was better off here… with Jack.

* * *

Jack stood upon the deck with the dark storm behind him, he stared out onto a calming sea .Will was at his side blabbering on about something rather, which Jack made no efforts to feign interest, and began calling up Anamaria to take his place at the helm. 

"It's all so fascinating," he said indifferently to Will who, in turn, responded with a raised eyebrow and unimpressed expression.

Once Anamaria had situated herself at the helm, Jack cautiously handed her the compass. She took it between her fingers and had expected him to let go, but upon his lack of release, she raised an annoyed eyebrow at his worried expression. They held eye contact for a moment or two in this awkward interaction before Jack released the compass, pointed an accusatory finger at her and then slowly backed away and headed under deck.

That had been a tough storm, but Jack pulled through, he always did (in some way or another). He stalked down the creaky steps he had become all too familiar with over the last course of the day. In morning they would reach the Isle de Muerta and his final plan would be put into place. Jack felt relieved to be so close to accomplishing something, yet it seemed so painful that something in such a small proximity was so far out of reach. With this thought in mind, he arrived at the door of his most recent fascination. He contemplated knocking, but what a fortunate surprise it would be if he caught her in a compromising position.

Jack listened at the door for a minute but heard nothing. He was about to open it when he heard the footsteps of someone incredibly annoying stalking down the steps from above deck. Jack let out an obvious sigh and removed his hand from the door.

"Visiting her again?" Will asked incredulously.

"No, I leant her somethin'," Jack lied, "I've come to get it back." He remained facing the door but tossed a gaze over his shoulder at a disbelieving Will.

"I have known Miss Anne ever since she has arrived at Port Royal," Will began, "she has taken several years to arrive where she is, Jack, do not think that you can change her back; she's better off." Will waited for Jack's response, but it never came. He turned and walked back up the stairs.

"Whelp," Jack whispered under his breath. Again, he reached to open the door but another set of feet could be heard tromping down the stairs.

"Jack," Gibbs said a little too eagerly, "yeh wouldn't know where an honest sailor could find a spot of rum, do yeh?" He licked his lips in anticipation.

"Where is it _always_ kept?" Jack said while rolling his eyes. He had not moved from his position facing the door.

"Right yeh are," Gibbs continued lower into the ship leaving Jack still staring at the door.

Once again, Jack raised his hand to the door. He waited a few moments for good measure, and finally heard nothing but the aftermath of the storm taking her effect on the sides of the ship. He pushed the door open, but it would not open very far. He heard a soft thud and looked down to see the door in contact with a shivering girl; Anne.

Jack slowly squeezed through the door frame and crouched beside her. She was coiled into the corner of the room breathing evenly and softly as though she were completely at peace. Jack took a moment to take credit for some of her current happiness. He began to slide one arm under her neck and around her shoulders, and the other under her knees, but he quickly realized how difficult a task this was. Since she was so close to the corner, he could scarcely fit an arm in the right place without putting his centre of gravity at a slight disadvantage. He tried more persistently and even contemplated giving up the task altogether, yet he chose to persevere.

He finally had her scooped into his arms until he realized that when lifting her he would need a different sort of balance than previously predicted. Jack silently cursed as he fell backwards with Anne crashing onto his chest and neck, waking in the process.

"Jack!" she cried. "What on earth are you doing?" She scrambled off the floor and back to her original corner.

"No, no," Jack scolded in frustration, "I've only just got yeh out of there!"

"Answer my question, Jack," she said suspiciously.

"Yeh looked uncomfortable lyin' on the ground," Jack said slowly as though some kind of lie would fabricate as he spoke – which it didn't – and so Jack was stuck telling the awkward truth.

"Why Jack, I'm surprised you are so compassionate," Anne said teasingly. Jack stood there for a moment listening to her fading accent before deciding on a more characterized answer.

"Well, what kind of gentleman would I be if I seduced yeh while yeh were lyin' on the ground?" Jack began to smirk and slowly walk towards Anne – whose confused expression did nothing to deter him. "I would be mighty uncomfortable sittin' on the hard floor tryin' to get yeh to like me."

"Yes," Anne said indifferently, "an impossible task. Why, I imagine, you would be there all day." Jack's frown dropped as he heard the words leave her lips. He moved suspiciously close to her as he moved towards the door. Their shoulders were brushing with each breath either of them took. Jack turned his lips towards her ear and took a lock of her hair between two dirty fingers and twirled it a bit as he took a moment into consideration.

"Don't underestimate me," he said accusingly before dragging his hand from her hair to her collar bone to her shoulder to the door as he walked away.

Anne felt a very unwelcome chill run down her spine. Yes, it must only be a phase.

A/N: Hurrah! Nearly half way there! If you should so choose, check out my other story I've recently started: A Taste for Deception. Hopefully the posting of the new story will not deter this story's progress (I make sure to write ahead before my first post so I have at least a couple chapters done just in case). Nothing annoys me more than when authors decide to begin a new story, and as a result, neglect their old one. Thus, I have vowed to myself to make this story my priority.


	13. Negotiations

A/N: I've decided to jump around a bit in this chapter to explore some of the other characters. I hope it doesn't get too confusing; I certainly tried not to make it so. You also might notice that I try to escape the common scenes that are constantly repeated in other fanfictions that are pulled directly from the movie for a little variety in my story, however in some cases it is not possible (such as in this chapter). In this case towards the end I borrowed lines from the movie which I italicized for distinction (it in not my intention to plagiarize).

Chapter 13: Negotiations

The Navy ship loomed near the shores of the Isle de Muerta for some time now in anticipation of the return of the daring Captain and entourage. Leaning against the banister was the unrivaled mischief maker both unmatched in stories and hazy visions – only second to Jack, of course.

Gibbs was the very vision of Jack's ideal right-hand man; undoubtedly loyal, proficient and had a prominent crow's eye. Of course, poor Jack might have seen all of these sides of Gibbs but overlooked the others, for example, a deep loyalty to the pirate code rather than any particular pirate. As a testament to Jack's misfortunate pattern of abandonment and treachery, he would be left in the clutches of Barbossa and his goons for loss of a ship.

Gibbs hoisted the sail and shouted nautical orders left and right and centre and backwards and, on occasion, up and down. He was certainly no Sparrow, but as Will had informed him regretfully, Jack had fallen behind. Gibbs, always deficit in making informed decisions and perhaps a little slower on the learning curve than should be natural, had no choice but to set out without the charismatic captain. What had turned to remorse was then manufactured into an overwhelming pressure to perform as captain to the best of his abilities and an uncompromised determination to do no wrong. This of course was the chain of reasoning he would have to explain to Anne when he finally _had_ to make that meeting – whenever it would be, it would be too soon. Gibb's noticed the young Turner and Miss Swann heading under deck and he knew his _real_ trial would be hasty in approach and quick in execution. For all the things that Gibbs was, he was not terribly convincing.

Miss Swann and Will spoke in hushed voiced below deck, whispering quick regrets and apologies and sharing, when the time was right, silent attractions. Each content by the others presence and strangely fascinated at the same time. Each reassuring each other that they were so happy to see each other and that everything would be fine. That is, until, Elizabeth had shown Will her juvenile pirate tendencies and presented his with her pilfered Aztec Gold that she had stolen from him so long ago. What had begun as a promising path to romanticism took a turn for the worst as Elizabeth stormed away. Like so many other things in Elizabeth's life, piracy had done more harm than good. She left Will gaping after her fury of red skirts and traveled to the only place she expected to be alone.

Anne was sitting quietly in the corner of the room singing quietly to herself a tune she had heard at one time or another. The door squeaked open and she half expected to see Jack, but she was met with the most unlikely of allies. Elizabeth's mouth was as round as a pebble as she stood in the room drenched with shock. Anne's first instinct was to scream some sort of profanity, but Lord knows she had been obediently taught to withstand such impulsions. Instead, she removed herself from the dusty floor and found herself in the more comfortable arms of Elizabeth in a sisterly embrace.

"Anne?" Elizabeth asked through shocked teeth. "What on Earth are you doing here?"

"Oh Elizabeth, I have so much to tell you," Anne replied. The two had never been particularly close, but a certain solidarity was born from their situation in the small room below deck.

Anne proceeded to tell Elizabeth about her past, which was another dose of surprise to Elizabeth who had never heard Anne mutter a single word about where she had come from. Anne described her first meeting of Jack and her arrival in Tortuga and their reunion and their newfound understanding and, more recently, her confusion. Elizabeth had nothing really to add except for the occasional affirmations and one-word questions: why, how, who? Anne was always most deliberate in her answers and liberal about her information.

At first, Elizabeth found herself in a battle of friendship versus duty. According to Anne's testimony, Jack was more dear to her than she had let on, but due to her high socialite standing her first impulse should be to discourage any actions on Anne's part. She proceeded to tell Anne just that.

"Elizabeth!" Anne exclaimed with a feverish sweat. "How could you possibly think I could find interest in a creature so despicable and grotesque as Jack?"

"I know it is hard to hear, but he is a pirate, and has a sort of charm," Elizabeth said thoughtfully.

"Don't be absurd, I don't give a flying fig if he's a pirate, I just find the idea of _him_ to be absolutely appalling," Anne tried to reason.

"Anne, you don't need to hide from me," Elizabeth said quietly, "I know you better than you think."

"Really, Elizabeth," Anne started dryly, "I can hardly imagine myself falling for a pirate."

"I thought you said you didn't care if he was a pirate?"

"Did I?" Anne asked. "It must be the sea; I find I've not been myself during the past few days."

"All I will say on the matter," Elizabeth paused briefly as though she had no intention of giving any advice until absolutely necessary, "is that you must remember that although he is a pirate, you mustn't forget you have a duty to yourself."

"That is good advice, Elizabeth, but I fear I will never be able to use it, since it does not apply to me," Anne stated plainly. "Perhaps though, you should follow your own advice."

"What are you talking about?"

"A certain blacksmith has had an eye on you since the day he met you," Anne said coyly.

"What do you mean? Will?" Elizabeth had a distinct disbelief in her voice, though she had regularly visited these thoughts.

"Well, I suppose not," Anne ignored Elizabeth, "after all, I was never truly there upon your first meeting, but I surely recognized his devotion since my own arrival in Port Royal."

Elizabeth's sudden scowl of realization scared Anne out of her wits. Provocation had never truly been a honed art form of the young woman, but Elizabeth had never been prone to being prey before; today was a day of firsts. With a resolute determination, Elizabeth stood and clenched her jaw in a challenging manner towards Anne whose wide eyes were quite the contrary to Elizabeth's performance. Never had Anne seen such a spark of wild fixation and spontaneous surrender cloud her young friend's mind. Yet here stood Elizabeth ready to solve some puzzle of a sort and Anne could only watch in admiration. By the time the two had climbed the top of the stairs, however, their situation was cast aside for something slightly more pressing.

The crew was scuttling this way and that with an obvious fury and fear looming in the air. Anne only distinctly knew what was happening from shouts of "Black Pearl" and "gaining on us" being rung out across the ship by the John and Jane Does of the ship. Gibbs through out orders matched with threats towards the crew as Anne wildly ran to the helm for a clear evaluation of the circumstance. She scanned her surroundings with dread as she began to notice that her sea-worthy captain was not amongst the crew.

In the background a dark ship emerged in a fog as deep as the sea it floated on was making great speed that was no match for the fine-crafted navy ship. Elizabeth and Will made unison acknowledgment of the predicament and passionate barking to do right and make a final stand echoed across the wood.

Gibbs, never the one to be outspoken wondered silently at the pairs apparent lunacy before diving within his own deeper reasoning and, finding that his earlier contemplation should not go unnoted (especially when in a sober mind), opted to give in to the couple's fervent yapping. Gibbs turned around to face the approaching ship and made the unfortunate acquaintance of Anne's expectant eyes. Rather than waste time with explanations, he did what he does best and busied himself with something more desirable. But for poor Gibbs, however, there was no escape. He was bombarded with Anne's inquisitive speech as she followed him from cannon to cannon forcing him to make some sort of excusable mumblings as he effectively ignored her.

The ship was gaining considerable speed as the crew made effort to throw all unnecessary equipment overboard. However, they would not meet the shallows in time, as Miss Swann so passionately suggested, but rather they would have to make a stand of some sort and Gibbs was none too thrilled.

The ship tore through the waves as the anchor caught the rocks. Anne, who had busied herself until now by harassing Gibbs as to the whereabouts of Jack had finally found herself speechless. The fright in front of her paralyzed her mind as Will shouted for her and Elizabeth to go below deck and Elizabeth shoved a cutlass into her hand. Unlikely she knew how to use it, but it held a strange kind of comfort to her. All thoughts of Jack flooded her mind as the Black Pearl, a vision which had haunted her dreams almost as long as Jack had, was turning to meet her in combat. In a swirl of confusion, she opted to follow Elizabeth as cannons flew from their opponents and all they had to return was cutlery, which hardly made any kind of effect other than a few stabs here and there.

Anne had been crouched by Elizabeth trying to form some rational thought rather than flinging herself over the side of the ship long enough to see pirates swinging into their midst. Swords clashed and cries resounded across the deck. Will flung into action with Elizabeth close behind and Anne was not quiet sure, for she was in such a state of shock, but believed herself to fight a few adversaries of her own. However, whatever good she chose to achieve, was quickly undone as whoever had fallen would stand again and whoever was sliced, found a way to avenge himself against his assailant. This was not possible, or so Anne thought.

Shortly, Will had disappeared and Anne, not seeing where he had run off to, had assumed the worse. She continued to slash right and left as though she were trimming a rather prevalent rose bush, rather poorly I might add, but it did no good.

In no time at all the survivors of the crew had been tied to the mast on the Black Pearl and it was not until this point that Anne had come out of her daze and noticed Jack had mysteriously reappeared. She had never felt so frustrated at one person for lengthy a time. They had been getting a long find until just a moment ago in which she had decided that such a worry done on his part may be momentarily unforgivable. In her mind she devised such plans unruly in nature and sinister in design, Jack would not forget her anger. However, as she continued to stare at him oblivious to all else, she let her anger slip away noting that he is safe, after all. But shortly after her turn of emotion, another intimidating 'what-if' plagued her mind and her fury grew once more, this time not as easily pushed away. Not only was he safe, but he hadn't informed her of it nor had he visited her once since his return on the ship. She had become quite accustomed to his little visits and now to be withdrawn from such a delightful addiction was more excruciating than anything she might have been so desperately swayed from in the past. Once again, her mind began to formulate, but before they could be too cruel in design a voice interrupted her thoughts and she turned towards the speaker, or more accurately, the yeller.

"Will!" Elizabeth screamed as she disentangled herself from the rope binding the rest of the crew to the mast. She ran with great force towards the ship with great panic.

It had not been until that moment that Anne had realized that Will was, in fact, not in their midst. Rather, she assumed, he was on the ship that Elizabeth was reaching towards. Before another moment of contemplation could be wasted on the matter, a loud explosion and fiery fountain erupted from the demolished ship. Anne choked on her fear and started tugging on her own ropes. Unfortunately she hadn't paid attention to how Elizabeth managed, for her own ropes were uncomfortably tight. She could manage to squeeze her way out, but in the frustration of her efforts and the acknowledgement that Will had been executed, she began to cry. She looked to Jack who was looking straight at her with not a face of sympathy, as she had expected, but with a deadly serious glare. Further contemplations were thrown away, however, when Will appeared sopping wet on the side of the ship exclaiming one thing or another about Elizabeth going free.

"_What's in yer head, boy?"_ Barbossa laughed unbelievingly.

"_She goes free,"_ Will yelled once more. Anne had to admit, he was rather romantic, and she was relieved he was alive. But Jack was still giving her a glare that could freeze water, and Anne was puzzled as to why.

It was in that moment that she realized her predicament. It was likely that the crew hadn't changed since the last time that she had left the ship. Her eyes studied the suddenly familiar faces before they rested on Captain Barbossa's rotting smile and mangy hair. Slowly her back sank into the wood of the mast and she tried to make herself as invisible as possible.

"_You've only got one shot, and we can't die,"_ Barbossa continued to ridicule Will in his tone. The wind pushed through the ship and Barbossa's familiar sleazy seemed to travel towards Anne who found her limbs almost paralyzed out of fear of being noticed.

Jack watched Anne's face pale before leaping forward with a drunken swagger to offer his suggestion on the matter_. "Don't do anything stupid,"_ he offered Will. Will aimed the gun at himself and muttered something rather brave yet, as Jack had foreseen, incredibly dim-witted. _"Like that,"_ Jack added shamefully.

Barbossa was deeply puzzled by the ego of the young mans self importance: _"who are you?"_ he asked.

Jack once, again took the opportunity to intervene. _"No one. He's no one. A distant cousin of my aunt's nephew twice removed. Lovely singing voice, though – eunuch." _

"_My name is Will Turner . My father was Bootstrap Bill Turner. His blood runs in my veins."_

"_He's the spitting image of ol' Bootstrap Bill come back to haunt us,"_ Anne identified the one-eyed pirate from so many years ago.

"_On my word do as I say, or I'll pull this trigger and be lost to Davy Jones' Locker."_

"_Name your terms, Mr. Turner,"_ Barbossa said less in defeat and more out of curiosity.

Anne's heart raced, she feared Will would forget about her for some reason, or that he didn't have the proper negotiation skills that one might expect from a decent gentleman. And for the sake of higher purpose, she was not proved wrong.

"_Elizabeth goes free,"_ Will stated plainly and very quickly.

"_Yes, we know that one. Anythin' else?"_

Jack pointed at himself in perhaps the smallest gesture Anne had ever seen, and Will added rapidly_: "And the crew – the crew are not to be harmed." _

"_Agreed,"_ Barbossa stated while bearing his rotten teeth.

Anne began to sweat in small amounts as she realized that she did not fit in either categories as crew or as Elizabeth Swann. She looked to Jack who had noticed the same thing and made small gestures for her to hid behind the rest of the crew. The misfortunate part of it was that as she began to duck behind Mr. Cotton, Barbossa took notice from the corner of his eye and although he did not originally recollect her, his memory did not fail him in the end.

"Ah, what do we have here boys?" Barbosse walked casually to Anne who tried to hide her face behind Mr. Cotton's bandana. "Miss. Anne, is it? To what do we owe this pleasure?"

Anne slowly raised her eyes to meet his and smiled half-heartedly out of the sake of politeness and pleasantries. But she did not answer.

"Very well," Barbossa stated before stepping in front of Jack and whispering a few inaudible words. Whatever he had said Jack did not like it, though he had not shown it much. His eyebrows raised slowly at Barbossa's proposition and by the time Barbossa was done, Jack looked quite out of spirits.

"Gents, pull out the plank!" Barbossa barked as Jack's eyes grew extremely larger than they had once been and he began to bargain with the pirate behind him.

And so fate would have it that Anne would watch Elizabeth and Jack crash into the sea with a small spit of land in the near landscape while she would remain on board, an obvious pawn in Barbossa's ill-intended plans. Although things could not have turned out much worse, her thoughts her not with Barbossa's evil ploy nor with any sort of hope for any hope for escape, but rather they were on the island with Jack while she wondered why on earth he let Barbossa take her from him.


End file.
