Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to POTC. Nothing. I'm too poor to own something that cool. And Pirates own themselves anyways. I'm merely a vessel for their stories.

Year: 1667
Chapter One: The Escape

Jack was rudely shoved into a jail cell, slamming into a soft object which groaned in pain. As he hit the floor the cell door slammed shut and he looked curiously at the person he had hit. At first glance it looked as if they were leaning against the wall, their hands behind their head, looking at the floor, but then the person shifted with a muffled curse and he saw a glint of steel, the prisoner's arms were chained to the wall behind their head. Jack stood up, dusted himself off and addressed the prisoner.

Hello, hello. At least I have some company, eh?" He remarked, eyeing the prisoner who made no response. Jack strode up to him, pushed back his tangled mass of hair, which hung in his face, and jumped in shock. "You're a lass!" He looked her up and down, taking in her breeches and men's shirt. "You don't look like some street girl either. How'd you wind up here?"

The girl glared at him and lunged, only to be painfully slammed back into the wall by the chains. Jack leapt back in surprise, holding his hands up in front of him.

"Stay the bloody hell away from me." She spat at him, wincing.

Ignoring her glares Jack stepped closer. "They haven't been treating you very kindly have they lass?" He asked, gesturing to her blood stained shirt and bruised face, "What did you do to so anger our blue coated friends?"

She stood up taller, narrowing her eyes at him, "None of your bloody business, now leave me be!"

Jack shook a finger at the enraged girl. "Temper, temper lass."

At that moment footsteps could be heard coming down the hall. Jack swung around and leaned casually against the bars of the cell to greet whoever was on the way. A tall man in a British military uniform approached with two guards. He was obviously the one in charge with his puffed chest and the plethora of gold braids adorning his jacket. From the smirk on his face Jack knew he enjoyed using this power to his advantage. Eyeing Jack the man gestured to the cell door, speaking to the guards. "Bring the girl, he wishes to speak with her again." Turning sharply on his heel he strode out of sight.

One of the guards walked up to Jack, "Hold your hands out."

Jack perked up, like a child told he could go outside to play, "Does this mean I get to come?" he asked, holding both hands out in between two bars.

"On either side of the bar." The guard instructed, ignoring Jack's question. Jack did as told and then looked disappointed as the guard put chains on his wrists, effectively locking him to the cell. He sighed and leaned his head against the bars as he watched the guards unlock the cell and approach the girl. During all this time she had remained completely still, Jack was unsure if she was unconscious or just in too much pain to move. As the guards unlocked her she slumped forward onto them, knocking them over. Just as it seemed she would fall down with them she spun around, ran out of the cell and slammed it shut behind her.

"Hey, what about me? You aren't gonna leave me here are you luv?" Jack called after her, narrowing his eyes when she ignored him and sprinted towards the steps. At the bottom she paused, grabbed her jacket and weapons off a nearby hook and scurried up and out of sight. All was silent for a moment as he and the guards trapped with him looked towards where she had disappeared. Jack eyed the distressed guards standing next to him, "You aren't very good at this whole, who goes in the cell thing are you?"

Suddenly there was shouting, a gun was fired, and the daring girl came running down the stairs again. Dashing past Jack's cell a stream of curses followed her. Only seconds later six guards came panting down after her. There was a shout and then a thud. A moment later the guards returned. Two of the larger men were dragging the unconscious and bound girl with them, a look of annoyance and disgust evident. A tall thin man whom Jack decided the name "Weasel" suited and thus dubbed him, let the two other guards out as he cursed them for their stupidity. Quite a few of the guards were sporting what looked like would be pretty nasty bruises. One guard, a boy who couldn't be very much more than eighteen, was holding his arm as blood seeped out between his fingers. The girl was dragged up the steps and out of sight as the rest headed down the hall towards the guard room.

"Hey!" Jack called after them, "What about me? You can't just leave me here all chained up and the likes now can you?"

One guard, a man who looked as if he should be on the other side of the bars along with Jack, turned around and walked right up to Jack.

"You want to bet on that?" He spit on the floor in front of Jack then turned and followed his companions, laughing at Jack's curses. After shouting at the guards for a good solid fifteen minutes Jack gave up, rested his arms on the cell bars and leaned against the cool steel, contemplating an escape.

"Come on, think man, think! There's got to be some way you can get out of here."

As the sun began to set Jack was jolted out of his upright nap by the sound of footsteps. Two guards came down the steps, pulling the girl again, conscious but bleeding and looking even worse for the wear. They unceremoniously threw her into the cell, cutting her bindings. They were obviously under strict orders not to enter the cell again. One of the guards paused and unlocked Jack from the cell. As Jack rubbed the feeling back into his hands he grinned, "Thanks mate, got any rum?"

The guard glared at him, then hurried away. The girl stood in the corner, attempting to straighten her ripped and bloody clothes, muttering to herself. "Only damn shirt I own, a little courtesy would be nice, I hate the British. Pompous… arrogant…"

"Uh, excuse me lass, what did you say?" Jack joined her in the corner, settling himself onto a bench.

Jumping slightly, the girl turned and looked at Jack. "I was just saying how bloody annoying you are," she spat with an accent that Jack couldn't quite place. "And quit calling me lass, boy, I'm no sprite that just leapt from the womb." She paused, her eyes boring holes into Jack as she scanned his face. "Not that you're some young'n either."

Jack's eyes twinkled as he protested. "I resent that. I happen to have just celebrated my twentieth!"

The woman snorted. "Aye, and I was framed." She held out her hand, "The name's Laura, whom do I have the honor of being irritated by?"

Jack eyed her curiously. She stood with one hip slightly pushed to the side, her hair a matted mess but he could see streaks of color in it that were not natural, blues and purples glinted in the light from the window. Her clothes were ripped, bloody and filthy from her time in jail and some of the holes in her shirt looked to be burns but she still held herself with dignity and pride that commanded respect and spoke of leadership. Her and Elizabeth would get along Jack thought to himself. He grasped her hand. As he shook it he pulled back the cuff of her shirt, revealing a scar in the shape of a 'P' on her wrist. "Had a little brush with the East Indies Trade did we?

"Aye, as did you I see."

"Well I guess that explains why you're here, eh?"

Laura just grinned at him and Jack pushed her sleeve up further but no other marks were revealed. He stepped back and did a half mock bow, sweeping his hat off his head, "Captain Jack Sparrow, at ye service."

Laura froze for a moment, "Captain Jack Sparrow?"

"Aye, heard of me?"

"But you're-" She cut off her sentence examining him. Jack turned in a circle as if modeling, and Laura smirked. She circled around him slowly, eyeing his worn leather boots, filthy pants and shirt, and sliding her eyes past his dark kohl lined eyes to the red sash that covered his dread locked hair. She fingered a gold coin in his hair and then stepped back, crossing her arms. "No, I haven't heard of you."

Jack raised an eyebrow, placing a hand over his heart. "You wound me, are ye sure now?"

Laura stood still, eyeing him critically. "Ah ha!" She smiled triumphantly.

"You remembered?"

Laura grinned. "No, but I know who ye remind me of, me grandpa!"

Jack scowled at her and retired to the other side of the cell to sulk.

Laura grinned, enjoying his disappointment and leaned against the wall, crossing her arms as she spoke. "When do you hang?"

Jack glanced out the window at the only patch of sky he could see, "Sunrise, as per the British obsession."

Laura grinned, slapping him on the shoulder, "You're in luck then, you hang with me." Without another word she slid down the wall and proceeded to fall asleep.

"Bloody women, absolute mystery, and crazy to boot." He sighed and leaning against the wall, put his hat over his face and fell asleep.