For the sake of old times

Jack Sparrow looked at the small island, glistening in the sea. He knew it very well; he was marooned here twice before. But this time, he returned here on his own free will. He didn't much like going back, but what the hell. Something remained on that island, on that God forsaken spit of land. It still wore signs of the little bonfire Elizabeth made there with the rum. His rum.

"Lower the anchor, we're going to shore."

The crew lowered two boats and some of the pirates boarded them, while others stayed on the ship. Jack felt quite uneasy about stepping on this spit of land again, but on the other hand, there was also a bright side to this island. As he got off the boat, he immediately noticed foot prints in the sand.

'Tis a deserted island, it's supposed t' be a deserted…

"Cap'n, what's the …" Gibbs asked, but noticed the foot prints himself. Jack wind milled his hands to indicate silence and gestured to his men to follow him; only Pintel stayed with the boats, angry that Ragetti got to go and he did not.

The footprints ended under one of the half-burned palm trees. Someone was leaning against its trunk. The crew was just watching in amazement. It is supposed to be a deserted island. Ragetti's eyes were so wide with surprise that his wooden eye actually fell out. He picked it up, spat on it to get the sand away and put it back with a loving expression on his face. Marty stared in disgust and rolled both of his normal eyes to the sky. Jack was meanwhile edging closer to the apparently dead or asleep someone.

"Cap'n, should ya be…" Gibbs was the first to recover from the amazement, but was silenced by another of Jack's wide hand gestures. Jack came closer to the figure taking out his cutlass and removed the hat from his face. Her face.

Now it was time for Jack to show some real amazement.

Could this be… no… it just can't be…

Jack was rolling on the sand, his cutlass and his hat sent flying by a swift move that tripped his legs. The crew was still amazed enough to just stare and not help their captain.

"Jack Sparrow?! What the 'ell are ya doin' 'ere?"

Jack stood up and awkwardly brushed the sand of his clothes and put his hat back on.

"I'd thought that yer of all peoples would remember to call me Captain Jack Sparrow." He said, angry that he had to pick himself up from the sand.

Jack's crew was still just watching amazed. They were sailing for a deserted island, which proved not to be deserted after all and a woman was here, a woman that knew Jack and he knew her.

"Sorry, mate, s'been too long. Whatta ya doin' 'ere?"

"What're yer doin' here?" asked Jack, finally aware that this is supposed to be a little deserted island. Instead, he finds her on it.

"Don't remember, actually. Guess I were drunk." She smiled.

No surprise there.

"And apparently this island is popular." He mumbled. Then his thoughts were interrupted by her again.

"Anyways, now someone came after all these days to take me little self 'ome, right?" She said with a broad grin.

Jakc ignored her, because his eyes suddenly focused on a rum bottle that lay a few feet away.

"Where did yer get that?"

"Oh, this islan's a rum runners' cache. There's plenty. You'd like it 'ere, Jack. I'll let ya 'ave the rum if ya take me to shore." She said, smiling innocently, trying to negotiate.

"Bugger." Jack didn't listen to her last sentence. He sailed to this island, because he knew about the rum. True, Elizabeth burned a greater part of it, but luckily she didn't know there were two places the rum was hidden. Jack still admired himself for not telling her, the consequences would have been catastrophic. No rum left to return for. But Chris Morgan was even worse when left alone with rum than Elizabeth. True, she didn't have the habit of burning it, but she sure was one hell of a drunkard. For a woman, even for a pirate. She could actually drink more than Jack himself, for which Jack simply hated her.

"Look, luv. I came here for the rum. And I find yer here, drinkin' me rum."

"Yer rum?! So far I know, I'm on this island first when ya come claimin' the rum for yaself!"

Jack was beginning to get angry, his famous smile slipping from his face.

"I was marooned on this island twice! That makes the rum me rum!"

He shouted angrily flailing his hands in all directions wildly. Then he thought for a while and he realized his advantage. He put on his grin again.

"As far as I know, yer have two options, luv. I and me crew take the rum and yer sorry little existence to Tortuga, or I and me crew take the rum and leave yer sorry little existence right here."

He really enjoyed being the king of the situation. He flashed his gold teeth and then leaned closer to her.

"And just between the two o' us, yer know it's a fair deal, considerin' what yer did to me last time, aye? But still, I'm willin' to take yer. For the sake of ol' times." Another broad grin appeared on his face as he leaned even closer to her and whispered the last words.

Chris was frowning.

For the sake of ol' times, sure. Of all people that could accidentally come around this bloody island, it 'as to be Jack.

"Alrigh', take me to Tortuga." She answered resignedly, knowing it's still her only chance to get back to shore and not rot right here.

Jack grinned again. This was going much better than he expected. To squeeze most of the advantage he had, he leaned even closer to her and smirked. " 'Course, luv. But yer know, it'll still have a price."

Chris gave him a disgusted look and turned to board the ship. Jack wanted to follow, but was stopped by Gibbs.

"Jack, do ya really want her on board? You know who she is an' all and who's after her. Not even mentionin' she's a woman."

"Don't worry, mate."