Anyone who knew Jack Sparrow knew he only truly cared for three things: living forever, rum, and the Black Pearl.
Maybe he had the occasional soft spot for Will and Elizabeth Turner—after all, he wasn't heartless—but seeing as Will was ferrying souls as captain of the Flying Dutchman and Elizabeth was living somewhere Jack didn't know the name of, he was back to just the previous three. The secret to the first, living forever, was the rolled map in his inside coat pocket. The second, rum, was contained in the large bottle he held in his left hand. And the third? Here's where things got dicey.
The Black Pearl, his beloved ship, had once again left port without him. For the second bloody time, Barbossa had taken his ship. A consolation, however, was that Jack had carved out the crucial part of the map and therefore Barbossa wasn't any closer to finding eternal life. Unfortunately without a ship, neither was Jack.
His little dingy had barely made it halfway from Tortuga before sinking pitifully; he'd luckily hitched a ride back on a transport ship back to the port, and here Jack had stayed for the better part of a month. Despite doing a rutting good job of avoiding the numberous females he'd offended in previous visits, he recognized he couldn't afford to stay here much longer.
Literally. Inn fare was expensive these days.
Jack took another swig of rum. The chaos of Tortuga had become familiar long ago, and now he hardly noticed. What he did notice, almost immediately, was the newcomer who entered the tavern.
He wore a cloak, hood up, and a fabric mask over his mouth and nose. The clothes underneath the cloak consisted of simple, if a bit too large, trousers and a loose-fitting white linen shirt tied very tightly at the neck. While the end result could have been slightly comical, he seemed off, like something wasn't quite right. Jack's eyes followed him as he approached the bar, and the cloak swung aside at one point to five Jack a glimpse of a cutlass. He sat down two chairs from Jack, but didn't say a word to the barkeep.
Slim build, thought Jack. Looks as if he'd snap like a toothpick.
Jack squinted at the stranger, then turned to face him.
"Fancy a drink, mate?" he asked, holding up his nearly empty bottle of rum for emphasis.
The man's eyes snapped to him, then back to the bar, keeping his head down and in shadow. "No."
His voice was about as deep as you'd expect from someone his size. Jack moved over a chair, keeping a tight hand on his rum.
"You're in Tortuga, what do you come for if not to drink, eh?" Jack grinned. "Don't tell me rum's not your thing." He drank deeply.
"I'm getting my ship repaired," the man said a little sharply. "Tortuga was just the closest port."
Jack was stunned for a moment. "Ship? You have a ship?"
"Yes."
"So you're a captain then?" Seeing an opportunity, Jack plowed on. "I love ships. I'd love to see yours. You seem like an excellent captain, top notch—"
The man's eyes narrowed as he looked back at Jack. "Who are you?"
"Captain Jack Sparrow," said Jack, still grinning. It was a grin that, if you knew him well enough, you would recognize as being the one he got often when he was scheming or had found something that interested him. The man interested him, and already he was beginning to form a plan.
"Captain too, hm?" said the man. "Where's your ship, Captain Sparrow?"
Jack remembered a time when he'd been asked that same question. He supplied the same answer, "I'm in the market...as it were."
"Pity."
"Who are you?" asked Jack. When the man shot him a look with those dark, shadowed eyes, Jack merely shrugged. "It's only fair, mate."
"Captain Daniel Hayes," he said after much hesitation.
"And your ship?"
Daniel Hayes gave him a sidelong glance. "I don't recall asking your ship's name."
"Quite right, good sir," said Jack, a bit mockingly. "However, I do not posses a ship, remember?"
"The Red Lust."
Jack blinked, eyes widening fractionally. "The Red Lust?"
"Yes, yes, The." Hayes chuckled. "I'm told she won't be fixed and ready until the morning."
"That boat's legendary, mate," Jack said. "A shame it's captain isn't as well. Which inn are you staying at?"
Hayes didn't get a chance to answer. A tall, beefy man walked up to him and whispered something in his ear. Hayes nodded.
"Until next time, Captain Sparrow." He touched the edge of his hood as if tipping an imaginary hat.
He left. Jack raised his rum bottle at the other captain's back, smirking triumphantly.
"Drink up, me hearties, yo ho." He drank.
"The men were wondering where ye'd gone, Captain." The muscular man walked beside Hayes and laughed. Compared to this man, Hayes looked almost feminine.
"Mr. Reeves," Hayes said abruptly, "gather the crew." He walked with purpose, his brain working. "Tell them to head back to the ship. We're not to stay at the inn tonight."
"Sir?" Reeves knitted his brow in confusion. "The ship's being repaired."
"The ship's done. We leave Tortuga at dawn. I want all my men on board at least three hours before first light, is that clear?"
Reeves sighed. "Yes Captain. Who was that man?"
Hayes tensed. "Captain Jack Sparrow."
"Captain Jack—" Reeves gave his captain a disbelieving look.
"Yes. Formerly of the Black Pearl, currently without a vessel. Word's spreading around the pirate capitals that Barbossa's captain of it again." His voice was hard. "Get James first before the others. I want to speak with him. Sparrow is going to try and steal my ship."
A/N: next chapter coming up soon. if you liked, review. if you didn't, review.
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