A/N: This is a revised copy of my old story "Under A Sparrow's Wing." It has been cleared of all the errors that I caught (hopefully it was most of them) and has been reworked in order to please both the writer and readers Hope you enjoy! Reviews and criticism are always welcome.

Disclaimer: I do not own POTC or any associated content therein. Kathryn Denison, however, is of my own creation.

Chapter 1: Katie

The cool ocean breeze swept towards the camp and with it a break from the blistering heat. Waves crashed against the sandy shore as tropical birds sang weary songs. Everything living had lost the momentum to move as the sun's cruel rays beat themselves upon many working backs, leaving marks upon the already darkened skins. There had not been a break from the swelter for the past two weeks, and the cruelly hot days and equally restless nights had begun to take their toll on the small crew of the Black Pearl.

Within the first four days of the crew being grounded on the insignificant island of Cayman, two had died from heat exhaustion. Not two days after their bodies were sailed off to the sea, another life was lost. Since those three deaths the captain of the Black Pearl took great care to ensure the survival of the remaining crew. Working to fix the ship was never a difficult task. Because her captain kept her clean as a whistle, she never suffered any great damage. With the 1716 hurricanes, however, the ship couldn't handle the beatings of the wind, rain, and ocean any longer.

The crew had been working well into the afternoon one day, when thunder sounded in the distance. A cheer rose from the weary crew, the first mate's cry the loudest. The captain laughed heartily at the animation the sound brought.

"Sounds to be a league off," one of the men commented.

I stilled the small hands that had been cutting notches in a new mast for the better portion of the week. Looking to one of the two known female crewmembers, her long dark hair pulled high on her head and her sleeves and breeches pulled up as high as she could muster. I smiled at her in sheer delight as I motioned that we should continue working; we were near to completion. I looked toward the captain, who had resumed his work of forming a steamed plank of wood to the refurbished bow.

The muscles on his bare back and chest were straining from the effort it took to hold the wood in place, spreading the elaborate tattoo to near its limit. His tan had become increasingly darker these past weeks and his dark brown hair had lightened to a dirty-blonde. Laughing with his crew, the captain hurried the process along by pressing his wiry frame full onto the plank. Upon his hands were the many calluses of harsh labor; this hardworking quality was a loved trait among the crew. It was his fairness in all matters that I admired in him most.

My name is Kathryn Denison, but most know me as Brian O'Pieter. My feminine sway is masked daily by loose, brown breeches and an off-white top. Adorned at my waist is a dark blue sash that supports my scabbard and gun belt. I am the third woman to join in the crew of Captain Jack Sparrow, although no one knows I am except for Anamaria and Elizabeth, the Quartermaster's wife. Most just think of me as a young man of eighteen summers, which in years is quite accurate.

I have been at sea since I was eleven years old, at first to pay off the numerous debts my father had worked the two of us into in the search for my brother. He had been missing for nearly two years before my father told me the truth; so as soon as I knew, I left to help find him. After three years and three months, my father's debts were paid off and I was left an orphan. A few months after, I joined the crew of the Black Pearl as Brian O'Pieter to help continue my search, knowing full well that being a woman would get me nowhere in this world.

Sometimes, like on days like this, I felt that somehow, in the back of the mens' minds they knew there was something more to Brian O'Pieter than what met the eye. The men would strip off their shirts as they worked, and notice that I leave mine on as Elizabeth and Anamaria did theirs.

"What's the worst you could have?" the men would often jest, "Man-breasts?"

I would laugh along with the men, always conscious of the captain's eyes upon me.

"Mmm… I smell rain!" Anamaria whispered to me as we worked on the top mast, the knot holding her long black hair dangling to one side. Her shirt sleeves and pant legs were tugged as close to her torso as the fabric would allow, showing off her lovely chocolate skin. I silently envied her freedom to cool down.

"Enjoy some for me." I muttered in response. My eyes wandered back towards the captain once more; he was now hammering the board down. I turned my face from him.

Anamaria saw my quick glance. "You can't hide who you are forever, you know," she said, "you're going t' make yourself sick."

"I've been doing it for seven years; what's a lifetime more?" I asked with a fake grin. Before she could respond, I was called over to help the captain.

"Kneel on that side of the board to keep it from coming dislodged," he instructed, patting my shoulder as he passed by.

"Aye, sir," I replied.

I placed my legs over the indicated board and put my full weight, which was no more than one hundred-fifteen pounds, into it. It took two sets of the crew to hold the board steady as it was pounded and pegged into place, then only one to hold as the planks were tarred together. I watched, as if in a dream, the eloquent way the captain stated his orders, and the urbane way the men responded. Once more I felt out of place.

"We have about five minutes 'til rain, sir!" Gibbs called happily from across the deck. He flashed around a white grin amidst his dirty and sweaty face. The captain nodded to thank him.

"Alright you scurvy dogs, listen up! Finish up your tasks before you're soaked to the bone!" he called out.

Most of the men began to pack up their tools while others, like Anamaria and me, rushed to finish carving our notches. We took our daggers and cut two-inch triangles every three feet out of the main mast, making secure tie-ins for ropes. When we had only four more notches to go, it began to sprinkle.

"Katie, you go on in; I'll get this," Anamaria muttered, flicking at a few loose strands of hair. She nodded towards camp, "Use my coat to cover you 'til you get to the camp. Throw it in to Elizabeth when you pass our tent."

I nodded my appreciation and thanks, then ran to grab Anamaria's waistcoat. It began to rain harder and harder as I ran among the men towards the tents across the beach.

"It's just a little rain!" the men laughed at my retreating back.

Running up the bank to the far side of the camp, I dropped off Anamaria's coat to her tent, which she shared with Elizabeth and Will Turner. After another five tents, I came to Gibbs' and my tent and rushed inside.

The tents we use were specifically made by a Spaniard village for nomadic tribes. They formed an octagon of strong canvas and were extremely heavy. Our interior was divided by another sheet of canvas; an addition I was happy to receive. One cot lay to each side, displaying a slight décor to match the occupants.

Thunder boomed throughout the air, much closer this time. A flash of lightening came shortly afterward.

I absentmindedly scratched underneath my bandanna, trying to decide what I was to do for the duration of the storm.

"Brian!" came Gibbs' voice from outside our tent.

"Aye?"

"The captain wants to see you in his tent," Gibbs stated as he came in to the tent, his gaze focused on the ground. "It was somethin' about-" he looked up and gaped.

"What's your problem, mate?" I asked, slightly annoyed at his discontinuation of speech.

Gibbs stared and backed up, looking me up and down. "Do yourself a favor," he said calmly, "and change before you go."

"What?" I looked down and gasped.

Anamaria's coat had done nothing with the prevention of rain hitting my clothing. The articles clung to every curve of my body, muscles and all. My hair had fallen out of my bandanna as well from where I scratched. I looked back up at Gibbs, my eyes pleading.

"Please," I begged, my voice faltering, "don't tell anyone about this!"

Gibbs looked me in the eye and agreed nodded. "I won't. But that doesn't change the fact that the captain wishes to speak with you. And you know he does not like to be kept waiting."

"Thank you." I quickly changed into my only set of spare clothes and my large overcoat. I nodded to Gibbs as I tucked my hair back into my bandanna and exited into the pouring rain.

The captain's tent was located in the center of the camp, a mere twenty paces from mine. Captain Sparrow loved to be the center of activity, as well as drink. A game of dice was going on under a tarp, not far from the area.

"Captain," I called from outside the tent.

"Come in." The captain responded from the other side. I pushed the flap aside and entered.

Unlike the rest, the captain's tent was Mongolian style; acting more as a portable cabin than an easy-set-up tent. A table was placed to one side covered in maps and navigating instruments, and a cot with a simple blanket on the other. The captain was currently bent over a map and blue print of the Black Pearl, a single candle lighting his work.

"You asked for me, sir." I spoke after a deafening roll of thunder.

A short silence answered me. I was about to ask again when the captain spoke. "You left a little early this afternoon." Captain Sparrow stated, not bothering to look up, "and this isn't the first time."

I stayed silent, aware that he didn't want a response.

He marked off an island on the map and crossed out a line on the ship blue prints. When he finished, he slowly and deliberately rose to his full height, a mere five inches above my five foot three inches. His bright brown eyes held mine, unwavering in their scrutiny; the orbs held a different gleam than the calculating gaze they usually did.

"Tell me, Brian," his gleam grew in intensity, "why is it you run for cover at the slightest drizzle? Do you not like rain?"

"I love the rain, sir."

"Uh-huh." He set down the charcoal piece he was holding. "So you like to drop your duties because you grew up in the rain." He raised an eyebrow in mock wonder. "You also hang around Anamaria a lot as well."

"We are friends; do you not like to be with yours?" I was more than slightly annoyed at this quiz of his. Something in the back of my head told me the captain was trying to get something vital from me.

He held me under his scrutinizing gaze. "Take off your bandanna, Brian."

"Sir?"

"Take off your bandanna." The captain ordered.

"Sir, I don't see why-"

"Take it off now."

I was slightly ruffled at the calmness his voice held; it showed no sign of the impatience I saw in his eyes. Slowly I brought my hands up to untie the knot of the small piece of cloth hiding my identity. It seemed like forever that I was standing there, my long brown hair falling over my shoulders and down my back. I stared straight into his eyes, awaiting my punishment.

Captain Sparrow turned and began to put away his work, rolling the papers up and setting them to the side. I took in his deliberate actions and stuck out my chin.

"I shall leave as quickly as possible so as to inconvenience you no more." I began to put my hair up and turn to walk out, but the look he gave me made me stop.

"Are you aware of the penalties for your crime?" he asked as he straightened back up.

"Yes: a sure drop and a sudden stop." I replied, steadily holding his gaze.

He continued to stare at me in the way I had seen him do not too ago. I became slightly uncomfortable.

"Does anyone else know about this?"

"Anamaria and Elizabeth have known for a while… and Gibbs found out just before I came here." I was beginning to worry about the growing thunder storm; I wasn't a big fan of them.

The captain cursed and chuckled to himself, "And he still let you come here? Well, Brian, err- what's your name?"

"Kathryn." My own name sounded odd to me.

He gave me a funny look. "Well, Miss Kathryn," the captain stated, "you can bet that everyone in this camp now knows your true gender or will know, depending on how quickly Gibbs gets drunk tonight."

The colour drained from my face. "I would appreciate a quick death please. I will not be thrown to ravenous wolves if I can avoid it."

Captain Sparrow laughed loudly and openly at this remark. "Now what gave you the idea that I was going to have you raped? Or even that I was gonna sentence you to death?"

"I thought…" my voice failed me. I gulped, "What do you plan to do to me then?"

The captain set down his rolls of paper. He walked closer to me. "Katie; can I call you Katie? You may be female, but you are one of the best sailors I have ever known. Not only can you floor my biggest man, but you can also outwit my smartest. To answer your question, I intend to keep you as my sailing master. Your techniques will be needed, I believe, in the days to come."

"Only if you give me the same treatment you've been giving me the past couple of years."

"You're in quite a position to make compromises. You'll only be treated the same if you come out and act as Anamaria does."

"Yes sir."

He looked a little taken aback, "That's it, no argument?"

I shook my head, "No argument."

"Good; now get out of 'ere before I change my mind." The captain watched me until I was completely out of sight.