Disclaimer: No we don't own anything Disney, blah, blah, blah.

Author's Note: Hey all you Pirates fans! This is our first attempt at a group project, so tell us what you think!

Stealing His Ship

By Sara and Brianne

Prologue

If you asked anyone who had ever been to Tortuga or even some who had simply heard of the place which single inn best contained all that was Tortuga, they would all give you the same answer. The Night's Shadow inn was the best, the worst, and the roughest place in Tortuga. Not a single night went by without more then a dozen major brawls, some piece of furniture getting broken, and at least one broken window. Judging by the windows that had simply been boarded up instead of replaced and the lopsided way that the door hung on one of its hinges it seemed that the owner of the inn had long given up on the upkeep of his establishment. Women of ill repute flocked around the Night's Shadow as moths flock around a flame and pirates came from across the Caribbean simply to get drunk off the inn's famous rum.

All of these thoughts passed through Sara Kendal's mind as she stared up at the dilapidated building and considered going in. The streets of Tortuga were empty, or at least by the city's standards. All of the pirates, thieves, assassins, and simply unsavory people of the city had already raced into the closest inn or tavern in an attempt to escape the rainstorm that had quite suddenly decided burst to life. Only those who were leaving immediately for reasons only they new or those so inebriated that they couldn't move if they tried stayed out in the rain in Tortuga.

And then, of course, there was Sara. In a place where the world's strangest sights were an everyday occurrence, Sara doubted that anyone would notice a short woman of about five feet four inches in a baggy, salt-stained shirt, a tight brown vest, breeches cut mid-calf, a headscarf, large, gold hoop earrings, and long blonde hair that stuck to her back and sides standing in the middle of the street by herself in the rain simply staring at an inn and, if truth were told, she probably wouldn't care if anyone did notice. Sara loved rain. In fact, she loved water of any kind, from the tiniest raindrop to the entire ocean. It had been this love that had first inspired her to become a pirate, a life that she now loved so much she couldn't imagine being anything else.

Finally, after one last moment of contemplation, Sara strode forwards and opened the door to the Night's Shadow and stepped inside. The smells of alcohol, old and new, whatever meal had been served for dinner, sweat, and other smells that made one want to gag immediately assaulted her nostrils. It was just as chaotic inside as she had expected. She had to climb over three separate brawls simply to get to the bartender. She had to shout her order to the man behind the counter simply to be heard over the noise.

"I want some hot cider as soon as you can get it to me!" She shouted. The man behind the corner gave er a questioning look.

"Not much call fer cider here. May take me a bit t'find some," the man warned.

"Well then ya better get going," was her only reply as she pulled her long, blonde hair over her shoulder and rung it out, creating a small puddle of water near her feet. The bartender huffed in an annoyed way and waved his right hand towards the many barrels of rum and ale along the wall.

"Wouldn't ye jus' prefer somethin' normal like everyone else?" he remarked. Sara glared at the man and tried to fight down her frustration. Why couldn't anybody just do what they were told for once? It would make life so much easier.

"No, I want what I asked for. A little something about me, sir, I'm not normal or 'just like everyone else.' If it has alcohol in it, then I don't want it. I hate the stuff and, just so you know, it doesn't have to make you drunk to be good," she retorted.

She was telling the truth, she hated alcohol. She had never tasted any that pleased her taste buds in any way, and hangovers only made her cranky. Of course there was also the fact that the first and last time she got drunk was when she had just gotten her first ship and her crew had taken her to celebrate. She had gotten so drunk that she vomited all over her deck. The acid had ruined the wood, and she had never earned any real respect or even sympathy from her crew afterwards. She just stayed away from alcohol after that. Her answer seemed to confuse the bartender even more. Sara took a deep breath in an attempt to keep from strangling the man.

"Ye don' drink?" The man asked in wonder.

"Oh will you just get me the bloody drink already?!" she snapped as her temper finally came to a peak. She slammed a couple coins on the counter. She then pulled out her pistol from her sash and leveled it at the man's head. "Here's the money for it, now I don't care if you have to walk all the way across the city, but if you don't get me my drink in a respectable amount of time I swear you'll wish you had."

The man walked away slowly, and ran into his kitchen.

Moments later Sara was sitting in a corner of the room drinking a warm glass of cider and watching a group of drunks fighting across the room. It seemed that her threat had been well understood. She had only taken a few sips of her cider when a young man stood up from a crowded table full of other young men and their women, and staggered over to her table and sat down next to her. She grunted in annoyance at the man's arrival.

She had picked this table because it was empty. She had known that this inn would by busy, however, so she simply moved her chair farther away from the drunk and ignored him. The man responded by moving closer to her and putting his arm around her shoulders. As she sat her mug of cider down, his arm moved down her shoulder. She grabbed his hand as it was on her side, stopping it before it went somewhere she really didn't want it to go. She dug her nails into his hand hard enough to draw blood and then threw it back at him.

"You try that again and you'll find yourself with one less hand then you're used to," she threatened. Ever since her own experience with alcohol she had developed some patience with the intoxicated, but only some. A sober man who had done what this man had done wouldn't have been warned.

"S'that a threat?" The man angrily slurred. Sara pulled out one of her daggers and wiped it against her sash to keep it from rusting.

"What do you think?" She asked as she re-sheathed her weapon.

"No one threatens me," the man remarked.

"Well there's a first time for everything, darlin', now if you'll excuse me," she stood up and started walking away. In an instant the man stood up and grabbed her arm.

"Wha' kind o' pirate lass are ye?" the man demanded.

"One who doesn't like to be touched," she remarked as she reached for her knife.

The man grabbed her other arm as well and pulled her into a rough, demanding kiss. His lips were cracked and the reek of stale alcohol filled Sara's nostrils. She held back a gag as she threw her knee into the man's gut. He pulled away instantly and grabbed his stomach. In the instant that he was preoccupied with the pain spreading through his body Sara grabbed her mug of cider and threw the remaining contents in the man's eyes. He shouted in pain as Sara turned her back to him. She couldn't suppress the grin that curled up her lips at that moment. Though she had never really admitted it, this was the only reason she had entered the Night's Shadow inn in the first place. She had been rather stressed lately, and nothing calmed someone's nerves more then a brawl.

"Ye bloody wretch!" The man shouted. Sara simply stood where she was and waited to hear the whir of air as the man attempted to punch her. This would give her the excuse to start a true fight. She was just about to turn around and catch his fist, when she heard a voice behind her back.

"Tha's no way to treat a lady," a woman's voice remarked. Sara turned around in just enough time to see another pirate lass punch the man between his eyes.

The Night's Shadow. This name was different, much more alluring than the last inn Brianne had passed, whose weather-beaten sign had displayed the name The Blushing Bride. As much as The Blushing Bride fit Tortuga, The Night's Shadow fit Brianne. The name had a ring to it that reminded the once-captain of her old ship, the Midnight Dawn. She paused for a moment, thinking of that splendid glory of a ship that she had once sailed, hardly noticing the rain that had began falling on the dust encrusted streets of this city of pirates, thieves, prostitutes, and beggars. However, as she pushed open the door the overwhelming combination of noise, smell, and sound pushed away any previous thoughts.

It was quite a tavern. The smell of rum was purely delicious, and the several brawls already in progress made the pirate lass grin more than anything else. This inn was reputed to be one of the best in Tortuga. It was also known as one of the raunchiest, which was quite possible why it was known as one of the best. This was Tortuga, after all.

Brianne's grin continued as she saw one of the barkeeps look her over. She was sure that in her torn up, weathered leather overcoat and worn green bandana, she hardly looked her best. She probably wouldn't even be distinguishable as a female pirate, had it not been for her small size, and all too feminine looking face. As it was, she just looked like another weather-beaten pirate. And honestly, the coat was just bloody comfortable.

She continued in past the barkeep to one of the few empty tables that Brianne suspected would fall apart at any time. A barmaid, looking annoyed that her customer wasn't male, took her order of rum and left, presumable to get it. As the woman turned away, Brianne shook her head in disgust. How lowly must you be, to sink to that level? There were a very few that Brianne had met in her days that didn't sell their 'services.' It was downright disturbing. This was, in fact, why she hadn't been in this inn before now, being that when she had captained her own boat she tended not to stop in Tortuga, preferring that her crew stay away from these women. Still, she wasn't one to judge. She suspected that many people would think that she herself was downright disturbing. She dressed in mostly men's clothing, her entire left ear had several piercings, -starting from the ear lobe, and going all the way up her ear- and she had a few tattoos. Her hazel eyes went bright at the thought of her most recent one, and she grinned. Pulling back the right sleeve of her jacket, she flipped the underside of her wrist into view and looked at the tattoo of the crest of her ship. Damn, that 'urt. It was worth it though. All of her tattoos and piercings were.

The barmaid returned with her drink, and Brianne gave her a few coins to pay for it. She was about to take a drink when the phrase 'pirate lass' caught her attention. She looked up just as she saw a presumably drunk man grab a woman into a kiss. Being that this was rather usual to happen in Tortuga, Brianne react until she saw the woman pull away, knee the man in the gut (Brianne would have aimed a bit lower) and throw her drink in his face. As this was going on, she took her jacket off. She was almost positive that this would turn into a nice brawl, and she planned on putting herself right in it. I'm strange, I know, she thought to herself, but fighting in general is just fun. She also did enjoy a few of the looks she got from some of the guys around her. Brianne was wearing one of her favorite shirts, a white baggy shirt, under a vest very much resembling a corset, only not so tight and minus the pain. She saw the man about to throw a punch at the other girl, and quicker than you could say rum she had stood up between them and caught his punch in her left hand.

"Tha's no way to treat a lady," Brianne said with a grin, and punched him right between the eyes with her right hand. She grinned for a second time as she saw some of the man's friends stand up. Ah, another brawl. Fun.

Sara looked at Brianne, annoyance clearly laid out on her face. "Excuse me, but that was my punch you just stole there. I can take care of myself, you know."

Brianne grinned again, noticing that she had been doing that much more lately. "Ye know, I'm sure ye can, but I really couldn't resist a good punch to a bloke like tha'." In example, she punched one of the bloke's friends, and pulled his feet out from under him. When his head smacked the floor of the tavern, he didn't get back up.

"You obviously don't have that much self control," Sara replied, while trying to dodge the fist of one man and knock another man out. She was quite successful in both attempts.

A man had grabbed Brianne, and somehow had gotten both of her hands trapped in one of his ham-sized palms. Brianne answered, "Damn straight," right before she stomped on the man's toes in her heavy, mud-soaked boots. He shrieked like an eight year old daughter of a wealthy governor, and, sulking (obviously to the notice he saw his friends have of his shriek), went away. "I think I might have broke a few of those," she remarked, looking pleased.

"Well fine then," the Sara remarked as she punched the man Brianne was just about to hit.

Brianne looked unhappy for a second, but then she shrugged and said, "Well, at least we 'ave an understandin'."

At that point the Sara attempted to punch another man and he backed up into Brianne's table, avoiding the hit. One of the legs of the table collapsed causing the entire table to fall over, spilling her rum across part of the floor. As Brianne began nearly screaming, quite a few of the smaller fights in this brawl (mostly from the friends missing Brianne and Sara, and punching each other back and forth) seemed to stop. "That. . . was. . . me . . . bloody . . . RUM!" she screamed at the man as she advanced on him.

It was when Brianne began trying to properly bash the man's face in that some of the man's mates pulled the five foot five inch girl off the floor by her arms and tossed her (not so gently) into the muddy street outside. She sat there for a moment, positively fuming, before she realized how muddy it actually was on that street, and she stood up. I want me bloody rum, she thought. Before she could continue the thought, she saw the other girl pushed out the door. One of the barkeeps was at the door and yelled to them, "And ye two don't come back, ye here?!" He turned around, muttering, "I haven't had anyone thrown out in two bloody years," while he shook his head.

The girls looked at each other, and there was a moment of silence. Brianne suddenly said, "Ye know some bloke shoved his elbow in me eye? Probably on purpose too, rude bugger."

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