A/N

Yes, yes, I switched the first and second chapter around. Bwahahaha! But really, I think it kicks of the story with more action this way, don't you think?

Chapter one – Quick fingers

"Hey, you!" The sound of heavy booths on the wooden pier behind me. Damn it! I was certain that the man where too sauced to notice his pockets getting lighter, turns out he wasn't quite that drunk. More booths against wood and angry voices, he apparently brought friends. Double-damn it! Should I even bother to run?

A heavy hand lands on my shoulder before I get to make up my mind about running. The grip tightens and forces me around to face an only slightly modified version of the monster I imagined living under my bed as a child - just hair and dirt everywhere.

"Where is my money, you little hussy?!" The reeking horror of his breath momentarily paralyses me, before I force my face into an expression of innocent confusion.

"Which money? I don't…" The lie is cut short as he slams me into the wall behind me and puts a hand on my throat, squeezing hard. His eyes dark little pits of malice as he snarls:

"Where is it?! Tell me, and I will kill you less painfully…" His grip tightens and my vision begins to blur.

"Okay, okay," I gasp, "I'll give it back." He loosens his grip as I fumble in my belt for his money pouch. Still gasping for air, I drop it in his hands.

"Sorry about that, you know how it is, a girl's got to eat, right guys?" The futile attempt at reconciliation sticks in my throat as the man and his three friends close in on me. I give them a quick scan; dirty, threadbare clothes, and stupid expressions, an air of drunken anger among them. They look like a bunch of sad losers– the most dangerous kind when they are outnumbering you. I can sense how badly they want to beat me up, such an easy victim, a lone girl on a dark pier, a chance for them to feel big and powerful. One of them laughs, a low, evil laugh, laced with sadistic pleasure. Panicking I look around me for anyone or anything that might be able to help me, and I'm aware of a creak in the pier that are just in front of the closest man's booth tip. It's a trap door used to dump waste from the bar into the sea, all the men are standing on it! My spirit rises, only to sink again when I see that the lever is about a meter out of reach, I will never get to it in time.

The man closest to me pulls a knife from his sleeve and grins at me, I feel my body go numb with fear as I wait for the pain to set in…

"'And really bad legs' … legs? No, that can't be it… could it be pegs? Well, doesn't matter… 'Drink up, me hearties, yoho!'" We all turn around to determine the source of the singing, it turns out to be a man with dread locks and a definite pirate look about himself that staggers out of the door. The four men stare at him for about a second, before one of them lets out a furious roar:

"Sparrow!" The name seems to anger his comrades ass well, because they all draw their weapons and prepare to cut him into pieces. The man apparently known as Sparrow freezes mid-step, sways a little and simply states:

"Oh bugger."

Then he stares perplexed into the empty air, previously occupied with the four men that are now struggling to stay afloat in the dark water beneath the pier. He looks further around, and his glance lands on me, leaning against the lever, still a bit short of breath. He sends me a bright drunk smile.

"Excellent work there, lad…" He staggers closer and squints at me, "lass," he corrects himself, as his smile vanishes and he stares darkly into the water, where small bubbles on the surface is the only evidence left of the four men's existence. "There is just the tiniest little problem. You see, one of those men had something that I needed – something I've been looking for a long time. Incredible valuable, and now it is on its way to Davy Jones' locker. Unless…" he sends me a calculating look, suddenly seemingly sober. I read the intention in his eyes before he moves, and in an instance I dodge the grab he makes for me, in the same movement picking up the knife one of the men dropped in his fall.

I hold the weapon in front of me, waving it threateningly as he approaches me. He doesn't seem to be very intimidated though, as he keeps his own sword in his belt.

"Stay back!" I can hear how my voice cracks from fear, so can he apparently, because he raise his hands calmingly and talks in a softer voice.

"Relax, girlie, I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to know if you have it. I was watching you in the bar, you have some quick little fingers there." He smiles a smile that he probably intends to be trust-inducing. I'm not convinced, but I lower the knife, it wouldn't do much good against a sword anyway.

"I might have it," I admit, hesitantly. "What is it you want?"

"An engraved gold coin, probably in the coin purse of the fattest man now fertilising the ocean floor." I rummage in my pocket and pulls out a golden coin, slightly bigger and with a different surface from normal coins. It was the fat man's. I gave him back his coin purse, but kept the money, I'm a thief after all.

"This one?" I see the hunger in his eyes, and cautiously take a step backwards. "You can have it," I hurriedly add. "As thanks for distracting the men so I could pull the lever. I will give it to you if you promise not to hurt me."

"Oh, really? Brilliant, we have a deal then: no hurting if I get the coin. You drive a tough bargain, but so be it!" He grins and catches the coin I toss him. As he starts to examine it, seemingly in a state of childish bliss, I turn and walk away, happy to leave this whole experience behind me as fast as possible.

After about fifty steps, I hear running behind me. Now what? I just want to go curl up somewhere and wait for my heart to stop racing.

"Hey, girlie?" I turn around rapidly, tiredness, fear and adrenaline fusing together into reckless rage.

"What?! Leave me the hell alone, Sparrow or you will regret it! I might look defenceless, but I did actually kill those men on the pier! So just go play with your coin and let me leave." He sways slightly and studies me a moment, drunkenness suddenly back for some reason. Then he waves his hands in a conciliatory gesture.

"Relax, girlie, I promised I wouldn't hurt you, remember? My promises might not be worth much, but you can always trust me to take the easy way out, hurting you would be way too much effort." This relaxes me slightly, he sees that and continues: "Truth is, I could use someone with your talents. I have sort of a great… undertaking planned, and I need a skilled pickpocket, such as you. In return for your services, you will get a share of the spoils. In addition to the opportunity to travel and experience exciting new… experiences." He finished with a bright smile. "What say you?"

I look at him, sceptically, trying to determine whether I should even consider his offer, whether he is trustworthy – probably not – whether I have anything to lose – highly debatable. He moves closer and looks into my eyes. Suddenly he looks very serious.

"As for the men you killed, I haven't forgot, I'm actually still a tiny bit shaken up about that, but you don't seem to be, love. I would think of that as a warning sign if I were you. I think you might be drowning yourself, in some way."

I look at him, confused, an unfamiliar burning sensation behind my eyes. What the hell is he going at? He continues talking, as I'm somehow unable to tell him to shut up.

"Your eyes… I know where one get that a look in ones eyes, it's a bad place, but the road you are heading down now… well, let's just say it leads to an even worse one." The serious session seems to be over, as he pats me lightly on my shoulder and smiles toothily. "So… are you coming, girlie? Ether or, I need to get going soon, so you better make up you mind, savvy?"