Something that's been floating around in my head for a while but I've just recently tried to pin down. This is my first fanfic ever so please be nice but also helpful! :) Obviously, I don't own anything from Pirates (except the original characters that you're going to meet along the way.)

It never ceased to amaze him how one could go from the unadulterated bliss of sound sleep to the mind-splitting pain of a hangover in mere seconds. Jack took a deep breath, out of surprise more than anything, as he came to and realised he could taste dirt. Why was it that after a night out he could never remember anything but could almost always taste dirt? Cracking one eye open, all he could see was the dark, muddy ground beneath his face- this seemed a reasonable enough explanation.

Jack pulled himself off the ground with immense difficulty. Every way he looked, people were going about their daily business as usual. He was in a portside town but he couldn't for the life of him conclude where. Yes, it was vaguely familiar but so much of his memory seemed to have disappeared over night, at least he presumed it had happened overnight. At the moment, he could only be sure of two things: the first was that he was most definitely Jack Sparrow and the second was that he was a pirate.

Despite a headache that was threatening to pierce his skull right open, he attempted to make his way down the main street with his usual flamboyancy. If there was one thing Jack Sparrow valued above everything else, it was his reputation and regardless of how poorly he felt, he was determined to keep it up. He spun his way towards a beggar on the side of the road, seeing the chance to gain much needed information.

Withered and gray, the man smelt strongly of something that appeared to be his own urine, however, he was clutching tightly to a rum bottle in his right hand. Jack's signature sparkle returned to his eyes at such a sight. If he couldn't get the information he needed out of the drunk, perhaps he could still wind up with something of value.

" 'Scuse me, mate" he enquired, leaning over so he was closer to the beggars level, "If it ain't too much trouble, could you possible hazard a guess as to what town we're in?" The old man's toothless mouth broke into a somewhat psychotic laugh and suddenly Jack suspected the worst.

"Are you a fool, man?" the drunk boomed, "Why, you're in Tortuga!" At this, Jack let out an internal sigh of relief; he knew Tortuga and well.

"Much obliged," he bowed to the beggar in thanks before casually swiping his rum bottle. The old man called out in alarm but by the time anyone started to take notice, Jack had already intertwined himself with the bustling morning crowd and was halfway down the street. Now that he had identified his current location, he knew where to go as a first line of action. There were still a few things he needed to work out though, like what had happened to the Pearl and where the bloody hell was Gibbs?

He was still a little shaky on his feet but Jack couldn't stifle his smirk as he reached the familiar building. The Faithful Bride tavern, the first stop in town for any self-respecting pirate, loomed large before him. Perhaps this was where he had been last night? Besides, even if he hadn't, Gibbs might be there by now. The doors swung open to reveal the place, completely to his satisfaction; it was still as dingy and dark as he remembered it.

Showing his usual courtesy, he tipped his hat to the barmaid, "Grace." She slapped him, though he had a feeling he had probably earnt it.

"Jack Sparrow!" Grace sighed, exasperated, "I thought I kicked you out of here last night." Jack had no memory of this but supposed it was best to act as though he did.

"But Grace, my love!" he pleaded, "You know me. While I'm here, I'll be your best customer." Grace rolled her eyes but made no more movement against him; she couldn't deny that this was true.

Jack sauntered over to an empty chair, happy but not surprised that he had been permitted to stay. Women could never resist his charms and Grace, as hardened as she was, was still a woman and a good one at that. The chair was broken but he was in such a state that he hardly minded; he was content just to have Grace fuss over him as he sat reclined back with his feet propped up on a nearby table.

With her lips pursed in distaste, Grace silently removed the rum bottle, which was practically empty, from Jack hands and placed a fresh pint of lager in front of him instead. The pirate responded to the gesture with a hearty wink that only gained another eye roll from Grace. As she wiped the area of the table not currently being occupied by his feet, Jack asked her the question he was dying to know the answer to- "Seen Gibbs lately?"

The woman shook her head in response. "Can't say I have, deary. At least, not since the two of you pitched up last month." This was news to Jack; could he really have been in Tortuga a month and not remember any of it? "He was holding that silly ship in a bottle that you were both so taken with," she continued and Jack's ears pricked up. The Pearl? Gibbs still had the pearl! That was good news, wasn't it?

Grace took her position behind the bar up again, signalling that the convesation was over. Jack wasn't worried though, he would be able to get more out of her once she had downed a few drinks herself; the day was still young. Now all he had to do was down his lager and listen to the conversation of the day. As far as he was concerned at the moment any news was good news. If he got lucky, he might even hear more about Gibbs and the Pearl, wherever the hell they had managed to end up.

A/N: So what did you guys think? Good, acceptable, woeful? Help me out here!

I hope people are enjoying it so far. I'm not such a big fan of this chapter but I promise it will get better (hopefully).