DISCLAIMER: Oh, isn't the world cruel?! No, Jack Sparrow doesn't belong to me, nor does any of the other characters from POTC that I'm gonna use in this fan fic. They all belong to the wonderful Disney who won't let me have Jack. Sobs quietly

Right, disclaimer over. This story is about Jack's rise to Captain of the Black Pearl. It includes answers to many mysteries such as, what's with the funky gunshot wounds in the special features DVD, and who did the dress Elizabeth wore belong to, and is there more of a reason as to why Jack doesn't like mutiny? (Ok, you probably never thought of that one, but this has an answer for that one anyway…or will.) Please R&R, this story is a bit abundant and I need incentive to continue writing it. Rated PG-13 for slight violence and suggestive themes.

But I shall banter no more, on with the story!! Dons pirate hat and points forward

It was a dark night in Dover harbour, still too. Almost too still. Jack looked around him, no one was about. He stood in an empty alleyway, there were crates to the sides of him, and he stood on pebbled ground. There was no light, but a dull oil lamp glow from the dock ahead of him.

He was in another dead end again. Was that all this harbour was? At least he had shaken off his followers, it really was hard to run in a monks robe, he didn't know why they wore them.

But it had been a worth his plight. He reached into the monks robe and pulled out the priceless golden statue of mother Mary. A grin swept across his young featured face, and his chocolate brown eyes glowed with pride at what he had achieved. If only his cover hadn't been blown, he would have stolen more from the cathedral. However he was now lost in this maze of alleys, trying to find his way back to his ship. The Black Pearl. Well, it wasn't his ship so to speak, but soon it would be. Or so he hoped. His uncle was the captain at the current moment, but he was slowing down, it would only be so long until he took his wife and settled down somewhere. The crew were getting restless about him always having a woman on board. Jack liked his uncle, he only hoped that the crew wouldn't commit mutiny before he gave up voluntarily. If there was one thing worse than any other to happen to a captain, it was for his crew to commit mutiny against him. If Jack could help it, he wouldn't let that happen.

Footsteps interrupted his thoughts, he looked up quickly and saw two silhouettes in the weak lamp light.

"Hey, you." A voice cried aggressively as the two guards started running down the alleyway. Jacks heart thudded as he looked for a way out. Damn his love of gold. If he hadn't stopped to look at the statue, he wouldn't be in this mess right now. With one swift movement, he stuffed the statue down his stolen robe and drew his pistol.

He aimed a little with it before shooting. There was an empty click. Oh Jack you fool! You didn't load the shot. He patted his robes, trying to find a shot underneath.

"Stop." The voice ordered. With a grimace, Jack looked up. The two guards in red uniform with white wigs held their rifles pointed to him. An involuntary gulp passed his throat.

"Stay where you are." The other one barked rather uncertainly. That was it. That was his escape plan.

"Why certainly sir, what ever is the problem?" Jack brought his pistol sharply behind his back and gave the guard as earnest a look he could. The other guard however, was not the type to suffer fools.

"Where's the statue?" He demanded. Jack paused, how to get out of this one…

"Statue? I'm sorry sir, what statue?" Jack stuttered. He really was an idiot, was that all he could think of, playing dumb?

"The statue you stole. The statue we saw you stole." The guard furthered harshly.

"Ahh…." Jack trailed off quietly, this wasn't good. After all, had you ever seen someone profit from playing dumb? "I… I believe you must be mistaken. I know not of this statue you speak." Was this the way a monk spoke? He wasn't quite sure.

"Well perhaps you are mistaken. We have followed you from the cathedral. We have been close on your tail for three hours. Do you really think that we wouldn't know what you looked like by now?" The guard replied cynically. Ohh…..

"Do you perhaps not think it was another monk who stole the statue. We do all look alike you understand? Perhaps you fine gentlemen have been mistaken and lost his track, somehow found me, and now accuse me of a crime I wouldn't even dream of committing." He knew flattery would get him nowhere right now, but Jack considered it the icing on the cake.

"I was under the understanding that monks never left the cathedral." The guard edged closer, he was obviously not taking in Jack's lies.

"Erm, well it's a Friday, we have a free day on Fridays." Jack added hurriedly.

"You know, I have heard of free day for monks on Fridays. I think he's telling the truth." The other guard piped up, taking Jack by surprise.

"Wait, it's not even a-"

"Exactly, free day on Fridays!" Jack cried with a rush, he just realized that it was Tuesday today.

"Very well then, explain how your hair is exactly identical to the monk's we were following, and is not the regulation hair style for monks?" The guard jested, he was just enjoying this now.

"Novice!" Cried Jack shakily, his nerves were starting to break. Both guards frowned. Jack frowned too, he doubted that novices had long hair past their shoulders. But not for a moment did he wish that he had short hair, he liked it long, and that was the way it would stay. "He must have been a novice, like me. Novices, erm, have…. long… hair?" He trailed off, there was a strong feeling in his gut that he was a gonner.

"Riiight." The guard said slowly. "We're going to have to place you under arrest." He made an advance closer. Jack backed away, his stomach turning. Then the guard paused, looking back to the other. "What are you doing Baker? Assist me in this arrest."

"Erm…I…." The other guard stuttered, and he saw it. The gap. Jack dashed past the first guard and aimed for the gap he had just made. Damn this wretched robe! He could barely move in it, stupid monks. He hitched up the robe around his knees to get a better chance of escaping, revealing his leather boots underneath.

"Wait, you're a gypsy!" The first guard cried. Jack felt somewhat a skirmish of rage building up inside him. No, don't do it. Don't turn around. Don't turn around. Keep running. Keep-

"I beg your pardon." He said pompously. Oh you idiot, you stopped running.

"You! You're a gypsy." The guard growled angrily, something told Jack that this guard had a bad experience with gypsies before.

"I'll have you know that I am not a-"

BANG!!!!

…..BANG!!!!

Ohhhhh, that hurt.

Jack felt a sharp stabbing pain to the right of his chest. His eyes crossed over and went out of focus, he felt so dizzy.

"…Gypsy." He muttered. His right arm reached for the sword at his waist, hidden under the robes, it wouldn't move. He staggered to the left, then much more uncontrollably to the right. He wasn't quite sure, but due to the thumping pain in his skull, he assumed he had collapsed onto the wall.

He vaguely heard Baker scream at the other guard that had just shot him, so maybe he did have some guts. Worst of all, he vaguely heard himself mutter like a madman.

"I am a pirate. A pirate…A…. pi…." He stopped.

This wasn't getting him away. Seeing as his right arm was useless, he reached awkwardly in his robes for the sword he had at his waist with his left arm.

"Don't even move." The guard had his reloaded rifle at Jack's head. "Pirate." He then added as a somewhat guilty afterthought.

Jack did move. His brain wasn't thinking, before he knew it, the guard was screaming in pain. Jack looked down in confusion as to why the guard had screamed, he wished he hadn't. With a dull swish, Jack pulled the sword back. The guard fell to the ground with a thump.

Jack's stomach lurched as he doubled over, he couldn't see anything, why couldn't he see anything? He heard gunshots, more gunshots. Nothing hurt though, nothing new at least. Argh, why did this hurt so much? His feet forgot their purpose, he slid backwards, his numb arm grating against the wall.

He fell into comfortable oblivion. He couldn't feel anything. He couldn't see anything. And the last he heard was a metallic clatter of a sword on the floor.

Notes from the author: I hope you liked it, please R&R if you did.

Updates: This story will bloom as vaguely promised and I hope you will enjoy future installments.