Author's Note:  As of right now there are over 3,000 POTC stories on this site.  I have not read them all, but I gather that mine could very well resemble any number of them.  It's purely coincidence if it does, I promise.  I don't claim any movie characters as my own (but wouldn't the world be great if I could?) except Cordelia.

Speaking of Cordelia, before anyone yells "Mary Sue" I'm just going to say, sure, she probably is a Mary Sue, but she's you too.  I didn't want to use an "insert your name here" format, so the character has a name, but can still easily be you (if you're a girl, anyway) if you want her to be.  You know that it's fun to think about yourself in some far off place on some adventure with a very attractive pirate ;-).  Anyway, I just didn't want to have people telling me that my character is a Mary Sue, I'd rather just admit things up front.  *Sighs deeply*  Ah, I feel much better.  :-)

It may have its cheesy moments, but life needs cheese!  Please leave any suggestions and comments, but don't flame.  If you don't like it, stop reading it, savvy?  I don't flame people because, well, it's just not nice.  Thanks for reading!

***

Captain Jack Sparrow sauntered (which was more like stumbling when one saw it) out of his third or fourth tavern of the night.  He had had his fair share of rum and anyone looking on would assume that he was quite inebriated.  Funny thing about Captain Sparrow though, he could be perfectly sober and nobody would ever know it. 

Jack was a crafty and cunning pirate – one of, if not the greatest in the Caribbean.  He had gotten his hands back on his ship, The Black Pearl, and was enjoying a bit of shore leave, which included heavy amounts of rum and, should he find a few who did not wish to slap him, wenches.

Jack was making his way back to the Pearl, which was docked safely in the harbor in Tortuga, when his foot caught on something, causing him to fall to the ground.  "I don' think I had tha' much," he slurred to himself.  After shaking off his fall he saw the object, rather the person, he tripped over.  "Wha' d'we have here?"

Jack saw a mass of long dark hair and a blue dress, enough to let him know that it was a woman that he had tripped over.  The rest of her was lying face down in the mud.  Jack rolled the woman over and felt her skin – she was still warm, signifying that she was still alive. 

Jack poked at her a bit with his finger saying, "Uh, lass, yer in the middle o' the street.  Somethin's gonna run ye over."  He got no response.  Perhaps it was the rum, perhaps it was the fact that while he tried to keep an appearance of being tough, he did have a heart (just ask Will and Elizabeth Turner), or perhaps he was hoping that the woman would be grateful for being "rescued" and would reward Jack in a pleasurable manner.  Whatever his reasoning, Jack scooped the woman into his arms and once again stag…sauntered to his ship.

Not more than a few seconds after Jack's foot hit the deck, Gibbs approached him, eyeing the muddy woman in his arms.  "Jack?" he asked, scratching at his beard.

"Aye?"

"Is, um…D'ye 'ave a lass in yer arms?"

"Aye."

"Ye know it's bad…"

"Anamaria is aboard this ship, Gibbs, an' we ain' had no bad luck."

Gibbs smiled.  "Fair 'nuff.  Wha' are ye gonna do with 'er?"

Jack looked thoughtful for a moment.  "Dunno, this is as far as I thought.  I couldn' jus' leave her in the street."

Gibbs looked like he wanted to say something else, but closed his mouth and turned to leave the deck.  "'Night, Jack," he called over his shoulder.

"'Night," Jack called back.  Jack placed the woman flat on her back on the deck.  He left her there as he went to get Anamaria.