Author's Note: Finally, after much waiting and anticipation…the sequel to Of Robins and Sparrows, Caged Birds Don't Sing! This story chronicles the events of Dead Man's Chest as they are influenced by the addition of Robin. Will the changes be big? Will they be small? Only one way to find out. Read, my lovelies, read!

Disclaimer: If it looks canon, sounds canon, and smells canon…then it obviously does not belong to me.

Chapter 1

Robin leaned heavily against the rails of the Pearl, her arms crossed. She knew she should try and sleep, but she also knew that she would never be able to do any such thing until her husband returned. Absently, she began twisting the simple, silver band around her left finger. She and Jack had been married for a scant six months, but she'd been sailing with him for nearly a year.

"Fifteen men on a dead man's chest," a voice rasped out, "Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum!" Robin glanced out across the deck of the ship to see Gibbs thumping along, singing a shanty. She smiled. "Drink and the Devil had done for the rest; yo ho ho and a bottle of rum!"

The familiar sight eased her nerves slightly, but soon she sighed and turned her gaze back out over the black water. It was a cloudy night; very few stars could be seen, and the moon only occasionally peeked out from behind the clouds. Robin was just about to start walking around the deck to pass the time when she heard the sound of a tolling bell. A fluttering of wings alerted her to the presence of a flock of crows flying overhead.

Robin Sparrow shuddered. Like most sailors, she was superstitious, and she couldn't help but feel that the ominous black birds were a bad omen.

XxXxXxX

It was less than an hour later when Jack finally arrived back on board…in a coffin. As soon as Cotton draped a coat over Jack, Robin was checking him over, frowning at a few new scrapes. Still, aside from those, he was unharmed, for which she was immensely thankful.

"Well that went well," she observed dryly, noting the skeleton leg in Gibbs's hand.

Her husband quickly pecked her on the cheek. "Complications arose, ensued, were overcome," he assured her, draping an arm around her shoulders. She couldn't help but smile at his casual attitude; it was reassuring.

Gibbs practically lit up. "You got what you went in for, then?" he asked eagerly.

"Mm-hmm!" the captain replied. He reached into his pocket and pulled out…a scrap of fabric.

Robin was fuming; she could have slapped him. Jack had gone and risked his life for a grubby piece of cloth?! As it was, she—like the rest of the crew—could only stand in stunned silence.

Finally, Gibbs tentatively said, "Captain, I think the crew, meaning me as well, were expecting something a bit more…shiny." The crew all nodded, and Robin found herself nodding along as well. "What with the Isla de Muerta going all pear-shaped, reclaimed by the sea, and the treasure with it."

A man named Leech spoke up. "And the Royal Navy chasing us all around the Atlantic.

"And the hurricane!" Marty piped up. A chorus of "Aye" reverberated around the ship.

Now Robin decided to make herself heard. "All in all, it's been quite a while since we did a bit of…how did you put it, Mr. Gibbs?" she asked.

"'Honest pirating' was the phrase," he supplied.

Robin snapped her fingers. "Yes, honest pirating!" she agreed.

They all turned to look at Jack, who had yet to make a reply. He simply sauntered about for a moment before coming to stand beside Gibbs. Actually, it was more like he was trying to stand on top of the other man.

Jack leaned over to Gibbs and whispered in disbelief, "Shiny?"

"Aye, shiny," the older man replied. His expression had turned relieved, and he seemed to think that Jack was coming to his senses. Robin let out an involuntary sigh; the last thing they needed was an attempted mutiny on their hands.

"Is that how you're all feeling, then?" Jack now addressed the crew as a whole. "Perhaps dear old Jack is not serving your best interests as captain?"

Robin quickly stepped up to placate him—something she found herself doing a bit too often recently. "Now, love, no one saying—"

A voice cut her off. "Awk! Walk the plank!"

Without hesitation, Jack whipped out his pistol and pointed it at the blue and yellow parrot, glaring. "What did the bird say?!" he demanded, his eyes wild.

Leech rolled his eyes. "Do not blame the bird," he butted in. "Show us what is on that piece of cloth there." The others nodded and voiced their agreement; they too wanted to know what had possessed Jack to journey into that hellhole of a prison.

Before Jack could oblige him, however, the monkey (that blasted monkey) screeched and leapt at the captain's hand, snatching the cloth. Jack let out a cry and pointed his pistol at the creature, firing. The monkey was unhurt, thanks to the Aztec curse it had managed to reacquire before the island sank, but it did drop its new acquisition.

Gibbs sighed. "You know that don't do no good," he admonished the captain.

"It does me," Jack replied defensively. Robin, meanwhile, marched over and picked up the cloth, unfolding it.

"It's…a key," she called out, confusion lacing her tone.

Jack turned to her, his expression giddy…uncomfortably giddy. "No! Much more better: it is a drawing of a key!" He took the cloth from her and showed it to the crew. "Gentlemen…lady…what do keys do?"

Leech spoke up after a moment. "Keys…unlock…things?"

Now Gibbs thought he understood. "And whatever this key unlocks, inside, there's something valuable," he declared. "So, we're setting out to find whatever this key unlocks!" He was looking quite proud of himself, actually, until Jack shook his head.

"No!" the captain barked. "If we don't have the key, we can't open whatever it is we don't have that it unlocks. So what purpose would be served in finding whatever need be unlocked, which we don't have, without first having found the key what unlocks it?"

Gibbs thought about it for a moment, then he got it. "So, we're going after this key!"

Jack gave him a quizzical look. "You're not making any sense at all. Any more questions?" Thinking there wouldn't be any, he started striding away towards his cabin. Normally, Robin would follow, but this time, she had noticed that her husband had left out a very valuable piece of information.

"Darling, do we have a heading?" she called, hands on her hips and one eyebrow raised. Robin was used to Jack's oddities (they were part of the reason why she loved him), but this was strange even for him.

"Hah! A heading!" he exclaimed, just as if he was the one who thought of it. He pulled out his compass and stared at it. His brow furrowed in confusion. "Set sail in a…mmmm…a general…" he pointed wildly, not looking up from the compass, "that way direction!"

The crew all exchanged glances with one another. "Cap'n?" Gibbs ventured to ask, visibly puzzled.

Jack snapped his gaze back to him. "Come on, snap to and make sail, you know how this works!" he cried. "Come on, oi, quick! Oi, quick! Hey!" He sauntered off back to his cabin, and Robin reluctantly followed.

Once they were inside, she pounced. "Jack, what's wrong? Are you all right?"

"Hmm?" he muttered, taking off his coat and his hat. "Oh, fine. Right as rain. Couldn't be better." He adopted a faux-posh voice. "Simply smashing, darling!"

Robin stood at the door for a moment, staring. After a while, she crossed her arms and said, "Fine. Now, the truth, or I swear I'll sleep down in the cargo hold."

That seemed to get her husband's attention. Jack sighed and walked back to her, placing his hands on her arms. He bent his head so their foreheads touched. Robin felt herself relax involuntarily; Jack wasn't exactly touchy-feely, so whenever he acted this way, she knew that something was on his mind. She just wished he would learn to open up to her.

"I'm just bloody tired, is all," he murmured. "I'm glad ye didn't go in there with me." To be quite honest, she hardly doubted that exhaustion and seeing tortured prisoners were what was bothering him, but it was obvious that Jack did not want to talk about it. So, this time, Robin let it go.

"If you're sure," she replied. She tilted her head upwards and captured his lips, weaving one hand into his hair. He returned it eagerly. She wasn't sure when they got there, but before long, they were at the bed, and this side of Jack, at least, she had gotten to know very well.