A/N- I have been toying around with the idea of a Post On Stranger Tides Sparrabeth story for a while now, and here's what I came up with. Special thanks to Justadram, who's story Four Felonious Crimes and Misdemeanors help inspire me to write this, and also to my fabulous new beta, Princess of the Pearl. You are amazing, thank you so much for helping me out. Without further ado, here is "His Very Own Bonnie Lass"

The Storm to End All Storms

It was a miserable, rainy day. The sky had turned a sickly puce color as the storm progressed, and all along la rue Bonne Foi*, citizens were fleeing for shelter. It hadn't rained in weeks, which was unusual considering the tropic weather. Merchants and tradesmen were able to sell their goods along the street and within the public's eye, without fear. Now, the streets were deserted. Booths were knocked over from the wind, shattered glass covered the street, and all of the craftsmens' precious work was beginning to rust away.

This was it. The big one. The storm predicted by an old woman's trembling lips as she looked over her taro cards. The storm incoming sailors had warned about while they were having their nightly drink in the pub. The storm young lads taunted their younger sisters with in order to scared them. And they were in the middle of it.

Most had been wise enough to seek shelter. All but one. Clutching onto the stone wall next to him, a lonely sailor trekked through the water that now reached his shins. The stranger tossed a piece of driftwood aside with great effort, his lanky body collapsing from the weight.

As Abigail Thompson pulled back her drapes to check the progression of the storm, she noticed the helpless traveler. She was not but sixteen, and did not take kindly to anything her mother told her to do. This is why, against what any person would call 'common sense', she went out into the storm.

As she approached him, the sailor ignored her and continues on his path. The man in question seemed to be limping, and was drenched to the bone. His baggy shirt and vest clung to his skin and the only other covering he wore was an ordinary black tricorn, that also appeared to be at least two sizes too big for him. This is when she noticed, that the senseless man in the rain was not a man. He was a woman.

Jack Sparrow had be arrested for a multitude of things, but this? 'I guess there's always a first time for everything.'

"Come on, man, move along." A bayonet poked him sharply between his shoulder blades, eliciting Jack's grunt of protest. Shooting the soldier behind him a glare, Jack continued down the road into town. Metal bound his wrists together, and he tried desperately to break free, jiggling the chain incessantly. The soldier rolled his eyes and instead of forcing Jack to move from behind, he took hold of the shackles and pulled his prisoner behind him, heading for the local gaol.*

"You really are a dimwitted fool, ye'know that?" The young officer said through a thick cockney accent. He could not be a day over seventeen and he had a certain youthful exuberance about him, as if he was confidant enough to take on the world.

"As a matter of a fact, I've been told that on many a occasion from a variety of different sources. Soldiers, merchants, women, me father…" Jack gulped in disgust, shaking his head to get rid of his thoughts. "Eh lad! That be one sharp uniform you've got yerself there! Nice, cultured, but not too meticulous. Befitting of your high status and rank, no doubt." Jack studied him carefully. His uniform did not really signify anything. If it told him anything at all, the buttons were scuffed, the coat lanky, and his hair unkempt, but this… this gave Jack all the opportunity that he'd need. "I've no intention to pry, but, out of interest, what magnificent rank has ole' George Augustus* bestowed upon a strapping young man such as yerself?" Jack's gold teeth shifted into an 'all too innocent' smile.

The soldier blushed bright red at the compliment and he eyed the ground nervously. He was only seventeen, yet this man seemed to think he was of high rank. His knuckles turned white as he griped the chains even tighter. The young boy looked back up at Jack nervously mumbling. "Um…a…."

"What did you say?"

"Admiral." The lads left eye twitched. Jack lowered his gaze at the boy with a sly smile. This would be an easy escape indeed.

"Oh, Admiral, I see… well Admiral, it has been a pleasure to make your acquaintance, and seeing as I will probably be going to jail for a very long time now, I believe it is safe to say my situation is far from ideal…." The soldier shifted his feet awkwardly.

"You broke the law. It is not my fault you are a felon."

"Oh yes, my crime… Honestly, mate, couldn't you just let this one go? Hundreds of men and woman are massacred on the streets of London weekly! What's a little theft, really?"

"The owner of the item in question seemed to feel otherwise."

"But I was only borrowing it! Once I was done with the bloody thing, I had every intention of bringing it back."

The boy considered what Jack had said, his resolve to take him in slowly slipping away. "Then why didn't you simply ask the owner instead of stealing his property?"

"Commandeering. Nautical term."

"Whatever. I won't be persuaded. You went against English common law and all criminals must be punished!" Jack could see the lad mulling things over inside his head, reciting the law that had been drilled into his brain for the past year of his life. His body had started to shake a bit and he released Jack's hands, all though he still clung to the chain.

"My apologies, Admiral. I did not mean to upset you. Here," Jack offered his shackled hands towards the boy, "I shall go without protest. I know, deep down in my black heart, that what I have done is wrong, despicable even. So, I shall let you take me. I just have one more request."

"What?" The soldier eyed him suspiciously.

"Well, you've heard, no doubt, of the practice of giving condemned men, who have nothing left to live for, one last wish, have you not?"

"Yes, I must say I have."

"Well, then you understand me perfectly. Come along!" Jack yelled, sauntering down the street away from him. The soldier looked in awe after him and then down at the chains in his hands. Sure enough, there were the shackles, opened and thrown on the ground. He could have freed himself as much as twenty minutes ago.

"Wait! Halt!" The boy shouted desperately. "By the orders of His Majesty, King George, I command you to…"

"To do what? Honestly, Admiral, have you know faith in me at all?" Jack called back, slowing down his pace so that the younger man could catch up with him.

The soldier looked all around him as they entered the main part of the city. There were tradesmen and merchants, as well as whores, all around him, all selling their wares for the best price a man could offer. Jack strolled through the busy street as if he owned the place, winking at his past 'acquaintances' as they blew him a kiss. The young man trailing behind him noticed this admiration and stared back at the older man with a newfound respect.

The soldier looked around at the odds and ends at a particularly brightly colored booth. There appeared to be a bronze pipe with a long stem encrusted with emeralds that was attached to a large urn blown from a ruby-colored glass.

Jack turned on his heel and noticed the boy's admiration for the pipe. "That's a hookah, from Goa, I imagine. Although, I dare say, a man of your stature would hardly want to be caught smoking one of these…" As they continued to walk, the boy felt something wet hit his cheek. He glanced up at the darkened clouds. Something was coming. Jack, however, either did not seem to notice or if he did, the weather didn't bother him. He was no stranger to hurricanes.

"Where are we headed?" The lad asked curiously.

Jack stopped abruptly and pointed above his head at a sign. "To get my final wish, savvy?"

They had arrived at The Faithful Bride.

"All right boys, what can I getcha?" The stout, sour faced woman that had seated them took a cloth out of her apron and quickly mopped up their table. "Someone seems to have lost more of theirs than they drank!" Jack chuckled along with her as he took his seat across from the soldier. "Now, what will it be, lad?" The woman asked the boy kindly after a confused look at his clothing.

"Umm… I'd like a Moonshine."*

The old woman laughed and Jack smirked at the young man, placing his boots on top of the table.

"You heard the lad. One Moonshine, if you please. And as for me, well, I'm rather old-fashioned meself. How about a bottle of yer finest, eh?" Jack glanced over at the young boy across from him, chuckling under his breath. "So where you from, Admiral?"

"Whitechapel." He had begun to tap his fingers on the counter, his eyes darting around his surroundings. He shouldn't be here. His head officers had specifically warned them that if he caught any of them in the pub or engaged in some other frivolity, they would be stripped of their station. Now, here he was, second day on the job, having a drink with a felon.

"Oh, so you really do know your drink." Jack teased.*

The boy smiled back at Jack and shrugged his shoulders. "What about you?"

Jack eyed him suspiciously. "What about me?"

"Where you from?"

"The Sea."

The boy wrinkled his forehead in confusion. "I asked you where you are from, not where you live now."

"And I gave you my answer. They are one and the same. The Sea. Born, raised, pillaged, plundered, that sort of thing. Never been one for…land." The word rolled off his tongue with a lot of effort, showing his unfamiliarity with it.

"So you mean… your mother, she…"

"What? Is their something wrong with me mum bringing me forth onto this good earth?...or water rather." Dropping the subject, Jack grumbled to himself, crossing his arms dejectedly across his chest like the child he was.

"Moonshine and one bottle of our best Anguilla rum." Jack glanced up, expecting to see the stout woman from before, but instead saw a gorgeous redhead.* Startled, Jack's boots hit the floor and he sat up straight, the girl taking all his attention. Her red hair fell in soft waves down to her shoulders, wisps of it clinging to her face. Her eyes were a startling light blue that shown even brighter in the afternoon sunshine.

"Damn me to hell…" Jack muttered under his breath as he looked at the beauty before him.

"But then you wouldn't be able to have any of this marvelous rum, and I'm sure you would be a bit disappointed about that." The girl teased, her eyes lighting up as she laughed.

"Well, luckily it seems I have arrived in Heaven instead, with a lovely angel to greet me." Jack leaned on his elbows towards her.

"But it appears this angel doesn't even know your name." Ginger hair fell into her face and she brushed it behind her ear as she leaned closer.

The young sailor couldn't be any redder.

Jack's eyes darted over to the boy across from him. He could not do his infamous 'I'm Captain Jack Sparrow' speech in front of an officer. Surely, the boy had at least heard of him. It actually was surprising that, although he had arrested him, the boy did not even know what caliber of felon he was taking in. "Damn…" Jack swore under his breath. "Names, occupations, and all that sort don't matter in Heaven, or so I've been told." Jack cocked his head to the side, studying her.

"Fine. Then I shan't give you mine either. We shall just have to get to know each other better in another way…"

Jack's eyes widened. "I'm all for that."

"Now, lets see… What this little angel can do for the poor helpless mortal?" The redhead batted her eyes. She then leaned down towards Jack, who was still seated in his chair, and began to stroke his face and his chest.

"Marian!" A shrill voice broke the moment.

"What the hell do you want, old woman?" The barmaid yelled, frustrated that her wonderful seduction had been interrupted.

"Enough of the flirting! Get back to work, unless you intend on making your living that way!" The plump woman yelled at her, causing Marian to gasp in horror and retreat back into the kitchen.

"What's your secret?" The lad asked in amazement.

"Huh?" Jack's attention was drawn back to the young man across from him, having been distracted by a pair of hips.

"The women…"

"Ah. Don't quite know what it is that draws them to me, really. Some say it is my cunning wit, or my infamous legend, though I happen to think it's because of my devilishly good looks." Jack gloated loud enough for the whole bar to hear, raising the bottle of fine rum up to his lips. "All women are drawn to me. Not one has very refused me. Well, perhaps one…"

"Nathaniel Davies," A deep voice bellowed over the loud music. The boy looked up at the man in horror, "What on earth are you doing here?" The man was at least twice the boys age and wore the same uniform, except with extra metals pinned to his chest. "Who is this?" He glared at Jack, noticing his beaded hair and unkempt appearance.

"He's… He's…"

"Jonathan Swift. Pleasure to meet you." The man's eyebrows raised as Jack stood up, offering the man his hand. The officer stared down at Jack's hand in disgust, and wanted to protest when Jack grabbed his own. "'Moonshine' and I were just having a couple of drinks." Jack teased, winking at the young boy. The pirate then sat down and squinted up at the two soldiers. "Want some?" He offered the older man his rum, which was quickly declined.

"Davies, what is the meaning of this? Why aren't you out on patrol? " The real Admiral spat, glancing back at Jack with profound hatred.

"I was out on patrol, but then,"

"This extremely charming, and kind man offered to get this noble servant of our fine country something to eat and a nice tot of brandy. How could he refuse?" Jack opened his arms welcoming the officer to join them. "Would you like to take up on my offer as well?"

"Davies, you should know better than to associative with these lowlifes. And on your second day, none the less." Nathaniel gave Jack a guilty look, but Jack just gave him an encouraging smile. He had known all along.

"It's alright Admiral, no harm, no foul." Jack whispered to him.

"Come on, Davies. You've done enough damage already." The officer shouted, striding out the door.

Davies made to move after him, but then doubled back. "Mr. Swift, I'm sorry I arrested you. You're really not that bad at all." Davies gave him a weak smile before looking longingly at his untasted mug. "I mean, how big of a crime is 'goat snatching' anyway?" Davies laughed at Jack's expense until he noticed a mug moving towards him.

"Go on. Drink it. Take it with you if you'd like." Jack conspired, pulling a flask from his pocket and dumping the liquor into it. "I promise not to tell." He placed a finger over his lips and then placed the flask in the boy's palm.

Nathaniel's face lit up. "Thank you…" He said as he stored the flask for safekeeping.

"Go on now. Be gone with you!" Jack's hands made a sweeping motion towards the door with a smirk on his lips.

"Wait. Mr. Swift…"Jack looked up at him with interest. "Can you really get any woman you want?"

Jack laughed heartily and took a swig from his rum bottle. "Aye. Why? Don't believe me?"

Nathaniel shook his head and chuckled before he walked backwards towards the door. With one last look at Jack, he walked out into the downpour and back to his ordinary life.

"What a wonderful man that friend of yours was…" The officer said sarcastically. "I should have told him I very much enjoyed his book, though I did find it rather interesting that he seemed to lose his Irish accent.." * The officer glared down at him, and continued to march onward.

Confused, Nathaniel examined the flask in his pocket and then noticed a small bird engraved in it and under it was a name.

Jack Sparrow.

Nathaniel's eyes widened, and he quickly replaced the flask in his pocket. He had caught Captain Jack Sparrow.

"Any woman, ye say? I hardly believe that." A raspy voice called from the darkest corner of the bar.

"Who wants to know?" Jack asked, stand offish.

A man emerged from the shadows. He appeared to be in his fifties, and had a large bald spot on the top of his head. "Greenwald's the name, and I say you are full of talk. I don't see what any woman would see in ye." He was slobbering drunk, and practically tripped over his feet as he walked over to Jack's table.

"Well, first off, a full head of hair." Jack taunted.

Greenwald glared at him and spit into his mug. "I'll wager ye this. I pick a girl, and if you can get her into your bed, I'll give you one hundred guineas."

"And if I lose?"

Greenwald grinned with his rotten teeth, pulling something from under the table. "Then ye will never get this out of the bottle, now will you, Captain Sparrow?"* The Black Pearl was held dangerously in the man's hand. "Ah, I see, now I have got yer attention…"

"It seems I have no choice." Jack muttered almost under his breath. How DARE he take my Pearl?

"Alright then," Greenwald chuckled, noticing Jack's angry expression, "Which lass shall it be?"

Greenwald glanced around the pub and noticed that oddly, they were the only two people left in the pub. He looked out the window to see where they went. "Holy mother of god…"

"What?" Jack eyes darted to the window in alarm. The wind had picked up and now the streets were beginning to flood from the rain. Mass chaos had broken out and the merchants were forced to leave their goods in order to reach shelter.

"My boat!" The drunk yelled out in alarm, suddenly dashing out the door, still holding the bottle.

"No! Not good!" Jack ran after him into the rain, but everyone knows there is no use reasoning with a drunk. Now he was wet, alone, remarkably sober, and had lost the Pearl…again. Not exactly how he thought this afternoon would go. Jack let out a sigh and walked back inside to sit at the bar, rested his head on the counter. Listening to the pattering of the rain, his eyes began to slowly drift closed.

Suddenly, he heard a loud banging on the door. Groaning, Jack got up. "Oh, what the devil do you want?" Jack shouted exasperated as he opened the door. There was a young woman drenched to the bone.

"Help me, please! I fear it may be too late!" She cried anxiously, nudging the thing next to her that appeared to be another woman. Jack froze for a second when he made this connection, before hurrying to help them get in side. He picked up the girl. She was eerily light, even for a woman. Jack brought her upstairs and looked around frantically for a room. He found one which appeared to belong to one of the brothel girls. Jack motioned at the other girl to make a fire. He then placed the women in his arms down on a bed and finally looked at her face. That face, those eyes…

"J-Jack?"

"I'm right here, Lizzie."

*La rue Bonne Foi is a street in Haiti, the country from which La isle de Tortue is on or Tortuga as it is known. It is a mainly French speaking country so most street names are in that language. Bonne foi is French for Good Faith.

*Old English word referring to a Jail.

*Jack is referring to their King at the time, King George II

*"Moonshine" originally meant "moonlight" and "a trifling," but a 1785 British dictionary defines it as "the white brandy smuggled on the coasts of Kent and Sussex." Perhaps its color reminded people of the moonlight.

*"Whitechapel" is a town in England that was famous for it less than honorable activities such as brewerys, and distilleries. Also part of East England that is famous for its 'cockney' accent.

* The famous red head from the Disney theme park ride. "We want the redhead! We want the redhead!"

*Jonathan Swift was an Irish writer who wrote Gulliver's Travels, a popular book in the 1700s.

* Going off the idea from the 4th film with the Pearl being stuck in a bottle. It requires 3 goats, a crossbow, an hourglass, a trumpet, and a man waving his hands like this (waves like a drunkard) to get it free, hence the animal theft.