Disclaimer: I don't own anything except for my own characters.

Author's Note: I love all the reviews! I know I say that every time I have an author's note but you don't know how much I like hearing from you guys. All you talented writers are awesome and your critiquing/compliments are really neat. Let's see ... Jack has confronted Ms. Gilily and told her that her father was a pirate. But she already has a father! Something's amuck here. Let's read on, shall we?

Lots o' really bad eggs,

PineAppleLint

"Are you mad?" Belle asked haughtily, "I have a father, thank you very much! AND, might I add, he is no bloodthirsty pirate, I assure you!"

"You are the daughter of Blackstone Blake," Jack said, still taken aback, "You have his eyes."

"Are you drunk?" she practically shouted, "I am Belle Gilily and I belong to one of the wealthiest families this side of Port Royal! I have no pirate blood in me." She said that last line softly and with a hint of bitterness.

"But you yearn to spend your life on a ship, adventuring across the ocean," Jack added for her, reading her entirely too well for comfort.

"Perhaps," she said quietly, "But, Captain Jack Sparrow, you are wrong. I have no pirate blood in me, and no matter what I wish, it is not so."

"Luv," Sparrow began, "I think you are makin' a big mistake by not investigatin' this any further ..."

"What do you expect me to do, Mister Sparrow?" she questioned, eyes blazing, "You have just informed me that my whole life has been a lie. How do you expect me to believe a half drunk scoundrel?"

Jack paused, his mug of rum halfway to his lips when he said huskily, "Why do ye enjoy baiting me, Miss Gilily? I am a pirate, a thief, and a scoundrel, that much is true. I see no fault in you pointin' out the obvious. But taunting me isn't wise." He leaned in close to Belle and added, "How do you know I won't cut your throat out from offendin' me?"

"Good night, Mister Sparrow," she hissed, "I do not wish to take any more verbal abuse from you." She finished off her rum and slammed it down hard on the table, causing it to rattle. Jack had to admit with amusement that this lass had spirit.

"Perhaps I shall walk you home, luv, so no scoundrels or thieves prey upon ye?" Jack suggested.

"A scoundrel guarding me from other scoundrels does not sound like a wise situation to me," she grumbled and began to walk away from him.

"Sweet dreams, Miss…Blake," Sparrow called with a crooked grin. Aye, he would see the lass again, in due time. His eyes scanned the tavern and settled on a brunette beauty. Tonight all he was worried about was getting raging drunk and finding some pleasurable company. "Drink up me 'earties, yo ho," he mumbled to himself and with his own toast to the Black Pearl, downed yet another mug. It was going to be a long night.

Belle snuck in through the back door of the mansion, not wanting to wake anyone. Her mind was whirling with possibilities. Could she really be the daughter of a famous pirate? What about her present father? Who was he? Suddenly she felt heartsick. What if her life really had been a lie?

Gloria came rushing in, causing Belle to let out a sharp gasp of surprise.

"Master Gilily came home early!" she shrieked, "He arrived an hour ago and demanded to know where you went."

"You told him, then?" Belle asked warily.

"I could do nothing else," she said gravely, "If I did not say anything, all the guards would be out looking for you at this very instant! Do be careful…he is still extremely upset."

Belle sighed and said, "Then I must do what I must." Belle was still in shock from meeting the infamous Captain Sparrow and from the news he had left with her to sort out through her mind. She held up her wrist and examined the birthmark once again. It didn't seem much like a birthmark, now that she studied it. The flesh was slightly raised and the skin seemed scarred, as if someone had forcefully branded the horizon scene into her wrist.

Belle suddenly had a flashback. Pain, tortured cries, the gruff voice of a man who tried to calm her, tried telling her...

Where did that come from? Tried to tell her what? Gloria came back and said softly, "The master wishes to speak with you, Miss." Belle nodded and allowed Gloria to lead the way with her lit candle.

She stepped into her father's study and closed the door. He was standing by the fire, watching as the flames flickered and crackled. "Father?" she said quietly, "I am sorry."

He turned to face his only daughter. He wore a white wig, and his face was lined with age, with worry. He had seen a lot in his lifetime and had grown tired over the years. It had been hard on him to be a single parent, for his wife had died when Belle was but a mere child. Her mother, Belle mused. Or perhaps her adoptive mother?

"Child, do you know how much I worry about you?" he sighed.

"I am not a child, father," she said, "Not anymore."

"You are rebellious, daughter. Day and night, I worry about where you are, what you are doing, what ideas are running through that head of yours. It has to stop."

"I know, father."

"Why must you go out amongst bloodthirsty murderers and cheats?" he asked, "Why do you have to live so dangerously?"

"It is in my blood, father."

"For goodness sakes, child. Your mother and I have never had such yearnings to act so carelessly."

"I know. I am adopted then, aren't I?" she questioned quietly, pain and curiosity lingering in her tone.

Master Gilily gawked at Belle, his eyes widening.

"Child, why would you think such a thing?"

"Answer me," she ordered, "Just answer the question!"

He just stared at her, his eyes instantly filling with tears.

"So it is true," she remarked with a sudden rush of anger and sadness.

"I have loved you like you were my own, Belle," he said, "We found you when you were but a mere baby on the docks. I had recently gotten married and was doing some work for the Port. We decided to take you in."

"I have to leave Port Royal," she cried, tears coursing down her face, "And live my life how it is supposed to be lived."

"Belle! What in heaven's name are you talking about?"

"In the tavern I met a bloke who told me of my father. He was a pirate."

Master Gilily's eyes widened in astonishment, "A pirate?"

"Yes. You hate pirates. Ironic, isn't it, when your daughter ends up having pirate blood flowing through her veins?"

"It doesn't have to be like this, Belle!" he shouted in desperation, "Stay here! You are my daughter…in my eyes you have always been so!"

"I know. But I am sick of this lifestyle. You have even noticed my developing yearning to be elsewhere!"

"No, Belle! You musn't!" he said sternly, "You are staying here."

"Father," she said gravely, "I am leaving tonight. And you cannot stop me." After those words she fled to her room, all the while her father was yelling at her to act reasonable. She began to cry, slumped up against the door to her own room. It was too much. Her father wasn't real. Sure, in her eyes he would always be her father, but there would always be that voice in the back of her head saying he wasn't so.

A pirate. She would get to live out her dream thanks to the marking on her wrist. Belle examined it again and began to stuff some clothes into a sack, along with her dagger and a few books for entertainment. She didn't even have a sword, she thought with disgust, what kind of pirate was she supposed to be, anyway?

A lost one, she thought to herself, one that was wandering down the hard path, looking for her destiny.

"Miss, where are you going this time?" Gloria cried through the closed door.

"I shall miss you, Gloria," she said through her tears, "And I shall be back. It may not be tomorrow, or next month, or next year, but I shall return."

"Belle! Please don't do this!" Gloria begged but Belle was already out of the window.

With determination, she climbed down the oak tree once more with the sack slung over her shoulder and began to run to the Port, where the Black Pearl would be waiting. And that was where she would find her salvation.