Disclaimer: No own. Mouse own. Have much fun with, though. :) And no accent was used for Tia Dalma - much to hard to type out. Use your imagination, people. ;P It's what you're here for, after all.

Retrospection

Prolouge

Rumor has it, hindsight is twenty-twenty. For one Captain Jack Sparrow, nothing could be truer. Especially not now. Foresight had never been something he was especially good at. He left that job to Gibbs. Unfortunately, the one time he needed Gibbs, the older man was nowhere to be found.

Fate hated Jack Sparrow.

"Honestly, I didn--"

The shorter woman in front of him silenced Jack with a sharp look. Small and eerie, Tia Dalma could spring fear in the hearts of men with one look if she tried. She was trying. One did not mess with a voodoo priestess and expect to come out unharmed. Jack had pushed his luck with this woman one too many times.

"Where is the necklace, Jack?"

The pirate gave her a confused look, hoping he could throw her off. "Necklace?"

Brown eyes narrowed. "Do not play games wid me, Jack Sparrow. I know how you work. Where. Is. My. Necklace?"

Jack sighed, knowing he had lost this particular case. "Bartered. I bartered it."

"What did you receive in return?"

He had hoped she wouldn't ask that. Of course she would have. He muttered something.

Tia lifted an eyebrow. "What was that?

"Rum."

"Rum." Tĩa repeated flatly. "You bartered my necklace for rum. Could you not have given anything else?"

"Mitigating circumstances, luv. Your necklace was the only satisfactory option."

"I want my necklace; you will get it for me, won't you?" Tĩa purred, running her hand over Jack's, even as her eyes smoldered in anger.

Jack pulled his hand away and stood up from the table, backing across the room and nearly knocking over a jar that held something with far too many eyes and legs for comfort. "Terribly sorry darling, but that's just not possible – rum runners, you know. Difficult to find; travel all over the Caribbean. They've most likely sold it by now."

Tĩa Dalma's eyes flashed, and there was not a hint of anything but cold fury in her eyes as she glared at Jack. "You will bring me my necklace, Jack Sparrow."

"As I've already said, 's not possible. I'll get you a better one – shinier, more expensive."

"I don't want another one. That necklace is very close to my heart; I must have it, and no other."

Jack winced, "It has to be that one?"

"Yes," Tĩa Dalma nodded. "That one." Suddenly, her eyes narrowed, and she grinned, a full, green-toothed smile. "You don't realize how a woman's heart works, do you? . . . That will be fixed. Go back to the Pearl, and don't come back here until you have the necklace you stole from me." When Jack didn't move immediately, she waved a hand at the door. "Go!"

Jack didn't need any more prompting to vacate the building.

A parrot was not the easiest creature to have a conversation with. At least most animals didn't answer back, and if they did, they would have made sense. Jack glared at Cotton's parrot as he made his way back to the Pearl, mumbling to himself about women.

It didn't help matters that the parrot understood what was going on. Jack had to admit out of all the unusual things he had seen, Mr. Cotton's parrot was near the top of the list. The parrot could follow conversation almost as well as a human. At times, it was downright creepy. And annoying.

Like now.

"Squawk! Bad luck! Bad luck!"

Gibbs was waiting at the Pearl just as he said he would be. He gave a bright smile toward his captain, but it died as Jack stalked past him. "Did she help?"

"Women are fickle creatures, Gibbs. The sooner I remember that, the better I shall be." Without saying another word, Jack stormed into his cabin, fully intending to drink himself into unconsciousness. He needed to get his disappointing visit out of his mind for awhile. Gibbs watched him go, before pulling out his flask and drinking from it.

"That's a "no", then, I figure," He remarked to himself, taking another drink.

The sunlight peeking through the window woke Jack the next morning. Jack blinked open an eye, without having remembered falling asleep. He stretched and rubbed at his eyes, mentally cursing the sunlight that aggravated his hangover-induced headache. His thoughts floated back to Tĩa Dalma's home, and he, for the first time in a long time, felt angry. It wasn't his fault her stupid necklace was nowhere to be found. Okay, actually, it was. That was beside the point.

"Stupid, bloody loc--"

Something was wrong. His voice was too high. Jack blinked and spoke again. Same results. Either Will had taken his revenge for the many eunuch jokes, or Jack was dreaming. Yes. That was it. He was dreaming. Now, where was that rum?

He stood and as he did, he caught a glimpse of himself in the glass. This was definitely not his body. His beard and moustache were gone. His face was smooth. And those most certainly had not been there twelve hours ago.

Jack Sparrow stared into the reflection of a woman.

"You don't realize how a woman's heart works, do you? . . . That will be fixed."

Oh bugger.