Author's Note: Well, not as many people are as interested as I'd hoped. But alas, I shall still write! Because I really love this story with my whole heart. After seeing Dead Man's Chest, this story is comepletely improbable. But maybe only a little more so than it was to begin with...heh. Just kidding. Anyway, the second Pirates! film I thought was REALLY long. I mean almost to the point of it being TOO long. Nonetheless, I saw it with Pyro Symptoms Unleashed ( Go read her stories if you're an HP Ginny/Draco or Ginny/Boy!Blaise shipper. NOW.) and it was worth the 2 and a half hours we spent laughing our butts off. But, right on to a few little notes I've got for this chapter. I mention a ship that Anne previously owned, called The Red Sunrise. This is a work of fiction, as I have no clue as to what any of the names were of the ships she sailed on. However, the snippet in here that mentions her childhood- all true. I'll expound on it more in the coming chapters, don't worry!

Also, thank you to mr. rain cloud rolling in for leaving such extensive and inspirational reviews! Very encouraging!

Disclaimer: I really shouldn't have to do this...see previous chapters...

No Need to Argue

Chapter Three: Jilted Jailbird

.

Jack had been slapped, kicked, punched, pinched, walked out on, walked in on, screamed at, laughed at, kissed, felt up, dressed up, and eyed flirtatiously by a woman before.

But he had never been marooned by one…

Jack grumbled and kicked at the sand and stomped around like a five year old child. He shouted curses to the sky and beat his chest and let out an animal cry of agony. All in all, the effect was pretty dramatic, but he had no immediate audience other than a cockatiel that was peering at him curiously.

He frisked himself hurriedly, searching for his one luxury he was certain to have on this wretched island: a pistol with one shot.

From their convenient perch in the rigging of the sails on the Golden Gibbet, Anne and Diamond Eye-Dave took turns looking into the telescope to get a front row seat to Jack's current misfortune.

"I think he's finally realized that it's not his pistol," Anne remarked casually, examining the pistol that belonged to Jack while Diamond-Eye smirked as he peered through the telescope.

"I'd say," Diamond Eye replied.

Anne heard distinct creaking below her, and looked down, spying Gibbs shuffling around nervously. "Oy, Gibbs! What're you doing down there?" she shouted, waving down at him. He looked up imploringly and motioned for her to come down. She rolled her eyes and huffed, muttering 'Enjoy,' to Diamond-Eye Dave and wandering down the rigging.

"Losing your sea legs there Gibbs, or do you got something t' say?" Anne drawled, crossing her arms in front of her chest and strolling over to where Gibbs was still shuffling around nervously.

"We have to go back for Jack, Anne. Before it's too late."

"Like hell I'm going back for Sparrow. You want him so bad, you go an' swim an' get him yourself," Anne snapped, making her way back up the rigging.

"Anne, wait! Have a drink, eh? A drink…"Gibbs trailed off, knowing he'd caught Anne's mild and grudging interest.

"Alright, you mangy dog, I'll have a drink with you," Anne sighed, coming back down the rigging for the second time. She landed on the deck with a heavy thump of her leather boots, and led Gibbs with a sarcastic flourish down to the galley.

She lit the candelabras on the table to afford them some more light, and she called for Simon, the ship's cook, to bring them some drinks. Simon came out of the kitchen moments later with tall mugs in hands, the substance sloshing and the froth spilling over the rim of the mug. Simon gave an apologetic look to Anne when he accidentally spilled half of her drink into her lap. She shook her head and waved him away, kicking her feet up onto the table as she did.

"Simon still hasn't gotten his sea legs," Anne said by way of explanation, mopping up her abdomen and thighs with the handkerchief she kept in the left pocket of her breeches. "Now, why in the world should I be having to go back after Sparrow?"

"Jack's into a spot of trouble. He told you about the Duke of Aubagne, eh?"

"Aye," Anne said slowly, with a hint of patronization laced in. She picked up her mug and revolved her wrist in slow swirling motions, looking at the contents of her drink as they moved in time with her wrist.

"And undoubtedly he told you about his Pearl," Gibbs continued, looking around the galley, and consequently anywhere but Anne.

"Yes," she replied in the same tone as before, beginning to loose her patience.

"But I know the part he didn't let you in on, and I'll tell you why-"

.

Jack was drawing circles in the sand, waiting for the Golden Gibbet to turn around and rescue him from his insane boredom and strange urges to hunt down a cockatiel and pluck it starkers. He knew that Gibbs was going to tell Anne everything. Everything including the minute details that she could certainly suffer without. That prospect soured Jack's expression as he continually drew obscure circular shapes in the sand.

First, Gibbs would tell Anne that his crew was hostage as well as his ship, and that they would suffer just like the Black Pearl until the Duke's beloved twit of a daughter was returned safely. Then, he would tell her about the great bungle Jack had gotten himself into with the poker game, in which he had bet more money than he had had on him.

In effect, he had planned to kidnap and ransom the Duke's daughter with the help of his mates whom he was playing the match with. Unfortunately, they rather back stabbed him, and kidnapped the little girl before Jack could, leaving him and his crew at the mercy of the French Navy. As if he wasn't already embarrassed at his first loss, he was certainly even more so humiliated at being at the mercy of the French Navy. He'd have much preferred the British Navy. Norrington may be an utter ponce, but at least he was a challenge.

The Duke told him that he and one of his crew could go in search of his daughter. In hindsight, he probably should've taken Anna Maria instead of Gibbs. He could have at least had a decent shag or two by now. Not that he'd been shagging Gibbs in the meantime. How dare Anne suggest that?

Then of course, he knew Gibbs would mention the handsome reward that the Duke was offering. This would undoubtedly spark Anne's extreme interest. The real temptation would come with the fact that the Duke was also rebuilding the plantation that Anne had lived at during her childhood. The plantation was in Charleston, South Carolina, and it was rumored that Anne burned it to the ground after being disowned by her father for reasons that Jack didn't know. And didn't want to.

Anne would definitely leap at the chance to murder the Duke, also, due to whatever unfinished business she had with him. After all, she'd murdered his wife, too. Jack thought that the Duchess' passing was indeed, a favor to the world, but that still left him uneasy. Besides, what in the world could possibly prompt her to murder the Duchess in the first place? Jack felt even more miserable at the possibility that Anne did the deed on a whim. This didn't bode well for him at all. More to the point, (which really left Jack nauseous) Anne killed without thought. It seemed that she typically favored violence to words, and so far, she'd displayed a kind of intense dislike for Jack and Gibbs. Well, Gibbs wasn't here on the island with him, so she must have either dropped him on another island, or she hadn't dropped the bugger at all. The latter seemed more likely.

It wasn't as if her thoughtlessness bothered him in the least. Because it didn't. Well... mabye just a little bit. But were her rash actions and her unccanny knack for shooting her own crew really going to be an asset to him at this point? Not in the least. Jack knew now that he'd picked the wrong pair of breasts to fall into. He peered at his sand drawings and scowled. There was no way of getting out of this, not since Gibbs had spilled the beans.

Frowning, Jack suddenly remembered that it was Gibbs' idea in the first place to approach Anne. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that Gibbs had always spoken of Anne as if he had known her somewhere before. "Bastard," Jack groused under his breath. He crossed his arms in front of his chest. He had thought Anne to be just convenient. Someone that perhaps Gibbs had just known in his early pirate days. He hadn't thought that Gibbs and Anne were old friends. He didn't think it possible for Anne to have any friends at all. She was a right pain in the arse, and a murderess to top it all off.

Jack sat in wait. He knew Anne would come back. The opportunity to double cross him and collect the ransom and kill the Duke would prove to be irresistible. Besides, she'd sailed under Calico Jack Rackham. And from what Jack had heard, she'd spent a lot of time just… under him. He was known to have a double crossing streak, and it's no doubt that Anne would have picked it up, no matter how much she may hate him now.

Jack knew very little about Calico Jack and Anne's relationship with each other, but he'd be damned if he hadn't heard a thousand stories a thousand times over. Each one of them proved more absurd than the rest.

He looked up, and spotted a rowboat in the distance. Gibbs and that fellow he'd tried to shoot were in it, approaching him quickly. He stood on his feet and brushed the sand off his pants. Anne stood proudly at the bow of the Golden Gibbet, and Jack knew that if he could see her face more clearly, then she would be smirking a devilish smirk. He squared his shoulders as Gibbs came sloshing ashore, and he began to think furiously of ways to keep Anne from inadvertently killing his crew and burning his ship. No doubt that if she got her way, both of those catastrophes would occur, and to boot, she wouldn't give a damn.