Title: Shores of Izen

Rating: M

Summary: A young girl finds that mystery surrounds her father's death and Jack Sparrow knows more than he's letting on.

Notes: PLEASE, PLEASE, Please review! Favors are returned.

An Excessively Loyal Crew

The stars are glittering in their heavens and in the midst of a calmly rolling ocean is a dark ship, the Sea Witch, on the deck of which are two men. One, tall, imposingly black skinned with rock-hewn muscles rippling across a shirtless chest leans on the wheel, listening to the other, a man who, though considered to be tall by other standards, is dwarfish in comparison. The smaller man leans in a way suggesting that there is more at work on his balance than the gentle waves of the sea, never stops his earnest appeal.

"C'mon, mate, just think of it. No overbearing captain telling you what to do or how ta do it, when ya know perfectly well how to run yer own ship. Open seas all the time, sun on yer face, wind in yer ha-," suddenly noticing the shining pate of the ships first mate, the speaker pauses for a barely noticeable fraction of a second to adjust his plan of attack, "…sails! Aye, there's wind enough for any sail out there!" He drops his overly enthusiastic tone for one of fiery conviction. "Dream of it man! Complete and total freedom. Freedom for all the rum, women, and rum that a man can stand."

Bored, Issac barely glances at the man. "You said 'rum' twice."

Unduly encouraged by this small sign of attentiveness, he bravely retorts, "That's because rum is twice as important as women, my good man. Enough rum'll make all the world into your playing grounds. It'll sail your dreams upon its back an' drown yer sorrows in yer belly…" He hypnotizes himself with his own words, while Issac seems impenetrable. Losing patience, the mate drops one of his powerful hands on to the smaller man's shoulder, shaking his head in disapproval.

"Now, Mr.-" Before he gets any further, he is interrupted.

"Captain! It's Captain, now, remember that." Rolling his eyes, he continues.

"Right then, Captain Jack-"

"Captain Sparrow to you, mate," grins Jack.

Growing more agitated by the minute, Issac growls back, humoring the other pirate, for the moment. "Captain Sparrow, then. Not that yours isn't a tempting offer, but, you see, I'm a loyal first mate- something you seem to be lacking in, loyalty- and the Captain, he pays us well to remain that way." He pauses to size up Jack, calculating his potential worth. Jack stares back, somewhat offended to be said to be lacking loyalty, and begins his own calculations. The mate continues, "And Mr. Sparrow, he pays us extra to bring in mutineers." He sneers the last word and takes a step toward Jack, cracking his knuckles and grinning evilly.

Jack's eyes widen as he tries to think of a way out of his situation. "Well, then," he says cheerily, rubbing his hands together, "let's go find us some mutineers." Jack turns on his heel, heading for the crew's quarters, but Issac steps in front of him, effectively blocking his path.

Jack takes an exaggerated step to the left, which the mate immediately copies. He takes another step, this time to the right, with the same results. Quickly thinking, he steps to the right again, then the left, left, right, right, and left again. He takes one more move to the left, then quickly ducks beneath the taller man's outstretched arms as he mistakenly steps to the right, incorrectly anticipating Jack's next move. Jack tosses a cheeky "G'night, mate" over his shoulder as he walks away, but his adversary quickly grabs him by the hair, yanking him backward. Jack's mouth stretches into a large 'O', his eyes growing rounder by the second. He fails at an attempt to turn around, his hair still caught in a meaty fist.

"All right, mate, let's talk about this. You let me go and I'll pay you whatever your good captain would give ya for me life. Then, I'll scurry off into the world and if you happen to see me at a later time, you could turn me in then and get double yer pay. How's that sound, eh?" Visibly proud of his logic, Jack leans back into his heals, awaiting Issac's agreement. Instead of agreeing, however, Issac looses a short bark of laughter.

"Yer brain has been fried by the sun if you think I'd lose the chance to be known as the man that caught that inexhaustible Jack Sparrow! Not to mention the captain would have my skin if he knew I let you escape."

Uncrossing his arms, Jack scowls and retorts, "Son, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, my life be worth three times more than yer sorry hide any day." Jack smoothly draws a cutlass from his belt, and slashes the mate across his belly without so much as a hitch in his breath, "And tomorrow, it'll be up to twenty."

The imposing man's eyes widen in disbelief and shock as he feel the stinging blade cut through his vitals, then actual pain as a cool night breeze blows across the open wound. His hand slowly moves to his abdomen and comes away covered in his own dark, sticky blood. He looks at his hand, then at Jack, an angry sneer of hatred covering his face.

"You will die," he says slowly, malice dripping from every word.

Jack leans closer. "Do you promise?"

Gathering his last vestige of strength, Issac shoots out his bloody hand, grabbing Jack by the throat, choking the life from him. Jack clutches at the hand, clawing fiercely, but it doesn't move. Flailing wildly, his breathing slows, his eyes close, and his body slumps in the mate's grip. Satisfied that his revenge has been fully extracted at the last, Issac permits his strength to diminish, his breath to fade, and at the last, allows himself to die.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhh." Jack opens his eyes and immediately closes them again, blinded by the morning sun. He tries to throw his arm over his throbbing eyes but discovers that his hands are tied behind his back and he is firmly tied to a mast on deck.

"Glad you could join us, Mr. Sparrow." The captain steps forward out of a crowd of rough-looking seamen. He is a largely muscled man with dark hair dressed in an ill-fitting dark blue gentleman's overcoat. Reeking of unwashed filth, he nevertheless gives the impression of a deeply rooted love of cruelty.

"Captain…" mumbles Jack, his head swinging from side to side, his wits a bit addled but slowly recovering.

"Aye, Mr. Sparrow? Something you want to say in your defense?" The captain frowns, debating on whether to kill him now or torture him first.

"Not you, me. I'm the captain." Finally gathering the strength to open his eyes, Jack looks around. His eyes dart to each face of the malicious crew surrounding him, searching for a sympathetic face, seeing none. His eyes finally come to rest on the Captain, the only beacon of darkness in the whole damn shining world. The man is scowling now, still unsure of which decision he should make, even though Jack's words aggravate him greatly.

"You're the Captain? Where's your ship? Your crew? Seems to me that you got hit a little too hard you insolent bastard." Jack turns his head, ignoring the other man and sees the ships destination Port Charles, in the not-to-distant distance. Finally able to think straight in this bloody blinding SUN, he begins to wiggle his way out of his dilemma.

"You would be standin' on my ship, in the midst of my men, if it weren't for your damned first mate," Jack says with a bit of malice. "You know it's not really a good thing to have such an excessively loyal crew. They're so concerned with making you happy that they'll never be able to do what's right by them, and that, friend, is what it's all about. If they had just listened to me we'd have been happily on our way to, well, to Port Charles, still, but I would be Captain of this little boat instead of you and that's what makes all the difference."

Confused by Jack's seemingly nonsensical ramblings, Captain asks, "In what?"

Apparently mortified that the man didn't follow him, Jack bellows, "In what! In you and me! Me and you. You and them. Me and them. Some of them and the rest of them. The left half and the right half. The front and-"

"Mr. Sparrow!"

"Captain!"

"You are in no position to be correcting me, you ass. Now, if you have a point, you'd best be getting to it. The boys don't like to be kept from their duties and if you keep 'em much longer, I'll have to let 'em set into you while your flappin' that glib tongue of yours." At mention of themselves, several of the men begin flashing their knives and twitching the whips in their hands. Jack eyes them nervously and begins twitching a bit himself.

"I'll not keep them waiting, then. My point is this: Never tie up a man you intend to kill without checking all his pockets first." As the Captain's frown deepens and he tries to puzzle out Jack's meaning, the ropes binding the man almost magically part. One of the quicker-thinking men throws a dagger at him, but he's too quick. Jack runs to the side of the ship, slowing only to grab his effects from the top of a barrel. Stepping onto the railing, he grins.

"Gentlemen, this is the day-"

"Shut UP!" roars the Captain as he rushes at him, sword drawn, eyes blazing. Jack's own eyes widen and he almost teeters over the side as he turns to dive into the ocean. The Captain leans over the balustrade and screams at the quickly retreating figure. "If I ever hear you open your blasted mouth again, I'll shoot you right between your bloody eyes!" Whirling about, he glares at his men, his face red and a vein bulging in his forehead.

"20 gold coins and half this ship that kills him before I do!" He strides to the mast picking up the fallen blade and runs the tip along his jaw line, a thoughtful look on his face. His decision between torture and death made, he grins evilly.

"Bring me his tongue instead."