Disclaimer: I own only the characters you don't recognise. All other characters, ships, etc. belong to Disney, Buena Vista Studios and I'm sure Jerry Bruckheimer got his finger into that pie too.

Author's Note: This is my first Pirates fanfic, and I've tried my best, but if anyone has any constructive criticism to throw my way, I'd be more than glad to hear it. Reviews are always welcome, flames will be fed to Jack the Undead Monkey. Thank you. )

The Sparrow's Nest

Chapter One

There he was. At last she had found him in this dimly lit, crowded inn. He sat alone at the table, leaning back in his chair with his booted feet up on the rough, wooden surface. He held a bottle of rum in hand and he looked at it like he was reacquainting himself with an old, beloved friend. Jack Sparrow's love for rum was widely known, as was his history - sea turtles and all. The good Captain was a living legend, and Charlie was sure he was aware that many pairs of eyes were trained on him, as if he were some manner of mythical creature.

His hand moved as he brought the bottle neck to his lips, making Charlie start in her seat. She had been watching him so intently that the slightest movement made her clutch her own bottle as if it were a lifeline. He fascinated her as much as he frightened her. Was he anything like she had imagined he would be? Well, in all honesty, she could barely remember what she had imagined now that the man was before her. Where he had been a mere dream before, now he was a man of flesh and blood – a man who could very well send her on her way. It was very possible. He had come to Nassau to find a crew once more, since the one he had previously had picked a very inopportune moment to take off with his ship. Word was that Barbossa had possession of the Black Pearl for a second time and Charlie felt angry for Jack. There was a certain amount of honour among thieves and particular lines that one did not cross, and that mutinous git had crossed that line more than once.

"Well?" said a voice beside her, making her jump once more. "Aren't you going to talk to him?"

The voice came from Jonathan Wright, otherwise known as 'Rat', and he was Charlie's closest and only companion. He was watching her with a sort of exasperated impatience and his bottle of rum was already half empty where Charlie's was as yet untouched. He was two years her senior, at least a foot taller, and for months he had scoured the Caribbean with Charlie in search of the elusive Captain Sparrow. Now that they had finally found him, it seemed to irritate Rat that it was taking her an eternity to stop staring, get off her backside and exchange words with him.

Charlie bit her lip apprehensively. "Come with me?"

"No."

"… Why not?"

"He's your father," he replied shortly. "I'm not going to hold your hand."

This did not make Charlie feel any better. In fact, it made her feel worse tenfold. She was once again reminded that this was not just a legendary captain, not just a man whose opinion she could acknowledge or discard as she chose – he was her father, her sire, and he was completely oblivious to it, so far as she knew. Charlie searched Rat's long face for some sort of comfort or reassurance, but all she found was mild irritation. She started tugging at a thick lock of her near-black hair nervously.

"What if he says no?" she asked, her voice hushed. Rat raised his eyes to the ceiling with a heavy, exaggerated sigh.

"Then he says no and you've lost nothing," he said matter-of-factly. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, as if to ward off an oncoming headache, then lifted the hand up to run it through his long, ratty brown hair. With a sudden movement, he smacked his hand flat on the table and glowered at his friend. "Charlie, come on! You've more steel than at least half the men in this room. Where has it gone? Just go over there and tell him that you want to join his crew."

"Easier said than done, Jonathan," Charlie hissed, a scowl creasing her dark features. "You wouldn't find it so easy meeting your father for the first time."

"Therein the difference lies between us," Rat said, his tone purposefully dispassionate. "You want to meet your father. I couldn't care less if mine were alive or dead."

"That's bitter."

"You expected something less?"

Charlie just sighed and turned her attention back to the seasoned pirate who had already moved onto his second bottle of rum. Her stomach was twisting uncomfortably and it made her feel nauseous, but she closed her eyes and dwelled on Rat's words. More steel than half the men here? Ha! All of them, more like. She opened her eyes again and raised her rum bottle to her lips. She drained good deal of it before pushing herself unceremoniously to her feet and striding over to the Captain's table. In her wake, Rat was smiling.

"Captain Sparrow." Charlie stood before him, back straight and her face full of determination. Sparrow's figure froze for a moment, as if he were waiting for a slap to the face, then his eyes flicked up to the face of the girl in front of him. Charlie allowed herself a quick intake of breath – they had the same eyes. Jack appeared not to notice this as his eyes drifted smoothly from head to toe and back again. He seemed to be admiring her, taking in her slim figure even through her fairly ill-fitting and dirty clothing. He grinned, gold teeth glinting in the dim light.

"Have we met before, love?"

Charlie opened her mouth to answer, but with alarming precision for a man who had ingested two bottles of rum, he curled an arm around her waist and pulled her down into his lap. She held her breath as his face came closer to hers than any face had ever come before. Her eyes crossed as she tried to focus on his nose, and she tried not to wrinkle her nose at the smell of his breath. Her heart was thumping hard in her chest, and it was not a pleasant feeling at all.

"I would be sure to remember a pretty little thing like you. Or at the very least… you would remember me."

Jack moved closer to her, his mouth on a collision course with hers. Charlie had never moved so fast. She was out of his lap in the blink of an eye, standing two steps away and holding her hands up in a 'stay away' gesture. Jack stared at her, his expression a mixture of incredulity and… was that hurt? His brows knitted together and his appearance was akin to a dog that had just been kicked.

"Captain, you misunderstand my intentions…"

"Indeed?" Jack stood up, swaying slightly as if he were onboard a vessel instead of on solid ground. "I understand my intentions perfectly." Once again the arm shot out and caught her waist, bringing her back against him. Ready for it this time, Charlie braced her hands against his chest, ready to push against him. This was not the first meeting she had imagined at all.

"I want to join your crew!" Charlie blurted out in mild panic, pressing firmly against his chest.

The change in Jack's lusty expression was almost comical. His head jerked backwards as if he had suddenly come across an unpleasant smell and a frown conquered his features. His hands remained on her waist, but there was distance between them now, and Charlie finally permitted herself to breathe.

"… Is that so?" he said slowly, his eyes scanning her face. Instead of looking for pretty features, he was searching now for traces of deception. His dark eyes narrowed slightly and for a moment he was very still. "I'm not terribly fond of having women on my ship, savvy?"

"What?" Charlie could feel her face falling. "Why not?"

"Most of the women of my acquaintance either slap me, or try to kill me," he let his hands drop from her waist and he sat back down in his chair, picking up his rum bottle once more and taking a deep swig. "One of them succeeded. I simply cannot found their logic."

"But… " Charlie was lost for words, what could she say to that? It was an incredible thing to say, but for unknown reasons she could well believe it. She let out a steady breath, trying to think of ways to convince him that she was not a pirate killer. "You can trust me, sir," she finished lamely, then almost winced at her own words.

"On what grounds, young miss? You've given me no reason to trust you."

"I've given you no reason to distrust me," she countered, folding her arms. Jack arched an eyebrow, regarding her differently again.

"Touché."

"I have been honest with you from the beginning of this awkward meeting, and I don't appreciate you throwing it back in my face with the unfounded accusation that I can't be trusted just because I'm a woman." For someone who didn't know what she was going to say to the captain, she was doing rather well. "Savvy?"

The way she threw his own coined phrase back at him with a good deal of sarcasm and scorn made Jack raise his other eyebrow, making them both disappear beneath his hat.

"I'm capable, able-bodied-"

"I'm sure you are, love." The grin had returned. Charlie scowled. Lecherous git.

"And you have no good reason to decline the offer of my service."

Jack blinked, looking rather surprised. "I do."

"Oh yes? And what's that?"

"It's bad luck to have a woman aboard."

Charlie was just astounded. She was very close to just walking away from the man. Was this the man who had escaped the Locker? Cheated death and defeated the East India Trading Company? Her only hope was that first impressions could be deceiving. The only thing stopping her was the irrational wish to know him, her father. There had to be something more to him than this. She took a deep breath to calm herself down before attempting to reply to the ridiculous statement.

"… Do you even have a ship, sir?"

Jack blinked again, thrown off by the swift change in subject. He got up once more, as if to make a firm objection, furrowed his brow and looked at the young girl as if she had just said something utterly ridiculous. "Of course I do. It just happened to be borrowed without my permission."

Charlie paused, taking a breath and looking at the floor for a moment. She had little to barter with, and nothing that the captain would appreciate. Suddenly, she had an idea. It would be difficult, but she might just have the means to pull it off. "... If I could get you a temporary replacement, would you let me aboard?" It was a very good deal, in Charlie's opinion, and Sparrow would be a fool to pass it up over flimsy superstition.

Jack leaned back slightly and cocked his head to the side. "And where would you acquire the coin for such a venture?"

"Who said anything about purchasing?" Charlie grinned a familiar grin, though hers was decidedly lacking in gold teeth.

Jack's expression matched hers, and anyone who looked could see a certain resemblance. "Ah. So which ship do you intend to commandeer, then?"

"A sloop. Something light and fast, not requiring many men to crew her." Charlie scratched her cheek with her finger as she thought on the possibilities. "How many will we have? Crew, I mean."

"Including you and I?" asked Jack. She nodded. "Two."

"Three." Rat had gotten out of his seat, apparently having been eavesdropping the entire time, and he loomed over the both of them. So much so, in fact, that Jack nearly fell over looking up at him. "Well, between a Captain and a woman…" This earned a healthy glare from Charlie. "…you need someone to do the donkey work."

"Your name, sir?" Jack seemed to be interested in who this tall youth was, or at least what the lad could do for him.

"Jonathan Wright."

"Rat," Charlie filled in helpfully. Jack frowned and leaned towards the girl conspiratorially, speaking out of the side of his mouth as if the boy couldn't hear.

"Bit on the large side for a rodent."

Charlie smiled. "It's a long story."

"Friend of yours, is he?"

"Yes."

"… Fine. But if he starts chewing holes in things, he's getting given to the cat."

Rat blinked and looked at Charlie, an eyebrow raised. She was giving him much the same look in return. Their captain was ever so slightly mad. Charlie took a breath and clapped her hands together.

"Well! Best get started. Care to assist me, Rat?"

"So soon?" Jack's smile was not exactly innocent as one of his hands wandered around to the small of her back and started to stray southwards. "Commandeering is more a… morning activity."

"Uh… but my wiles work best in the evening." Charlie moved away from the roaming hand, looking fairly uncomfortable. Rat looked close to pulling her away from him himself.

"Wiles, eh?" Jack leaned closer, his eyes all the darker for doing so. "Make sure to save some for me, love."

"Will do, Captain," Rat voice was crisp and sharp, and he had hold of Charlie's arm. Arguing with the man would be fruitless, so agreeing and hoping he would forget by morning was the best course. "Come along, Charlotte. Let's leave the captain to his rum."

Before Charlie could even respond, she was tugged firmly away from the scene. She would have been grateful if it hadn't looked like she was a bad child being dragged away for a firm walloping. As soon as they reached outside he let go of her, and flinched at the look she was giving him. It could have curdled milk.

"That was so dignified, Rat, thank you." The sarcasm alone could have strangled him. Rat cleared his throat, his cheeks growing red.

"Well, uhm, we should get started," he said briskly, obviously trying to brush of the embarrassment. "Wiles will work better if you're not dressed like a boy wearing his father's oversized clothing."

"… Just keep talking, Jonathan, just keep talking."