And… chapter three is here! Yay! This is the part where I introduce Fiction Syndrome. FS is something I think would happen to some people if they were really dropped into a movie or book. Basically, at some unconscious level, your brain figures that none of this is really happening, so you can do whatever you want. Thus, whatever would prevent you from doing whatever you want is rendered obsolete. It makes you a lot less shy, and you don't even notice. It can, however, be undone if you experience something traumatic enough to jolt you back into reality. So, Ivy is currently a very OOC time bomb… Fun, eh?

Schmergo- Feel free to scream at me if I mess up the characters.

Disclaimer: No, I don't own PotC. If I did, I would be writing another movie instead of this fanfiction. Savvy?

"Let me get this straight, love," commented Captain Jack Sparrow, "you're from the colonies in America, and you and your family were on your way to Kingston, when the ship sank?" There was a nod. "And the reason ye know me name is that you're psychic?" Another nod. Jack raised an eyebrow. "What sank your ship? There've been no storms lately?"

Ivy glanced down at the ship, or what was left above the water. It seemed rather contradictory of him to be asking, when the Jolly Mon was suffering the same fate, but she didn't mention it. Scenes from the second film jumped into her head. "Kraken," she said simply, then added, with what she hoped was the proper amount of stunned grief, "I don't know if anyone else survived. I'm not even sure how I did, really." He seemed to accept this. Ivy supposed he would, seeing as he knew the beast existed.

For the past thirty minutes or so, Ivy had been concocting a plausible explanation for why she was found floating unconscious in the water, with her ice-blonde hair in a braid down her back, and in typical pirate clothing. Evidently, her shyness didn't apply to fictional people. Perched on top of the mast, Ivy tried to gather some information.

"What year is it, again?" she asked casually. Jack looked at her like she was trying to convince him she was a dead fish. "I want to make sure my mind's alright after the wreck," she added, quickly.

This made enough sense to him that he answered, "1758." There was a pause. "Brain in working order?"

Ivy nodded, then remembered that she was living a movie. Anything but, she amended. There was a period of silence as the remains of the boat drifted closer to the dock. Sailors from another ship stopped to stare at them.

"Prove you're psychic," ordered Jack, suddenly. Ivy fixed him with what she was already beginning to think of as the 'dead fish' look. It had no discernable effect on the pirate, whatsoever. "Prove it. Read my mind or predict something." They were within a few yards of the dock. Ivy panicked, before realizing that she'd seen the movie, and could actually pass herself off as being clairvoyant.

"Alright… when we get there," she gestured toward the dock, "the harbormaster will harbormaster will say, 'What? Hey! Hold up there, you! It's a shilling to tie your boat at the dock, and I shall need to know your name." Jack gave her another dead fish look, and they stepped neatly off the mast and onto the dock. Ivy was glad that her added weight hadn't thrown it off.

"What? Hey! Hold up, you!" exclaimed the harbormaster, when he noticed they'd gone past him. Jack and Ivy stopped. "It's a shilling to tie your boat at the dock," he began, as expected. All three of them looked back at the Jolly Mon. "and I shall need to know your name." Jack gaped at Ivy, who grinned. The pirate dug around in the pockets of his coat, producing three silver coins.

"What do you say to three shillings and we forget the name?" The harbormaster peered at them over his glasses, and the boy who tagged along beside him's eyebrows shot up. The man took the bribe, proving that he was a prime example of who not to hire as a dockmaster.

"Welcome to Port Royal, Mr. Smith, Miss Smith." Ivy hadn't realized he knew she was there until that moment.

"That's interesting," remarked Jack as he pocketed the harbormaster's purse, shaking it. By the sound, it contained more than three shillings. "See anything else useful in the future?"

"Only that it's in my best interest to stay with you for the time being."

Jack looked like he'd swallowed something terrible. "Look, love, I can't have a girl following me around an' getting in the way of things."

"Your funeral," she replied, quoting something he hadn't said yet. How did that work, anyway?

"Why do I want ye to stay with me then?" he asked, sighing impatiently.

"Isn't it useful to have a psychic with you? Particularly if you run into Captain Barbossa or Davy Jones?" she asked sweetly, playing her ace. Jack gulped. "I can also sail rather well. I doubt you can get one of these ships out of the bay on your own."

"And how do ye know that's what I'm here to do?"

"Read your mind," chirped Ivy, as if it were obvious. She noticed was speaking with a British accent, without even trying. The grey-eyed girl blamed it on whatever strange force it was that sent her here. The pirate sighed in defeat, and Ivy smiled, trotting along behind him like a puppy.

Jack and Ivy strode by two relaxing naval officers, walking toward the Interceptor. Murtogg and Mullroy noticed them, jumped up, and slid in front of them.

"This dock is off limits to civilians," stated Murtogg, proud of himself for saying something that sounded important.

"I'm terribly sorry. I didn't know. If I see one, I will inform you immediately," answered Jack, trying once more to slide past the guards. He was stopped in his tracks. Changing tactics, Jack started, "Apparently, there's some high-toned and fancy to-do up at the fort, eh?"

"How could it be that two upstanding gentlemen such as yourselves did not merit an invitation?" finished Ivy. And that, she could tell Ted when she saw him, was an excellent reason to memorize movie lines. Ted… Ivy looked around, half-expecting him to pop out of the water, or appear behind her in a puff of smoke.

"Someone has to make sure this dock stays off limits to civilians," Murtogg said, rather self-righteously. Ivy was snapped back to reality, or whatever this strange movie-world was.

"It's a fine goal, to be sure, but it seems to me that a ship like that," Jack told them, moving to point out the Dauntless, "makes this one here a bit superfluous, really."

Ivy, who'd been snickering under her breath, as Murtogg and Mullroy scrambled to stay between Jack and the Interceptor, gasped, looking up at the Dauntless. In the movie, Ivy had liked her, and been impressed, but here, she was breathtaking. She was everything a flagship of the Royal Navy should be, imposing, grand, colorful. The girl's fingers itched for a pencil and paper, to capture the sight in lead. She felt insignificant, a crumb, compared to the majestic vessel.

"Oh, the Dauntless is the power in these waters, true enough, but there's no ship as can match the Interceptor for speed. " Ivy looked over at the Interceptor. There were some things that practically screamed to be drawn, that appealed to something in her. This was not one of them. She was a nice ship, but she didn't have whatever it was the Dauntless had; she felt no urge to sketch the smaller craft.

"I've heard of one," Jack cut into her thoughts, "supposed to be very fast, nigh uncatchable." He paused for dramatic effect. "The Black Pearl." Ivy's heartbeat quite literally sped up a bit. The Pearl! If she stayed in this adventure, she'd get to see the Pearl. That was motivation enough for her. Ivy had loved the ocean her whole life, and when she was ten, she'd discovered sailing. After that, every weekend she could get away, she'd rent a small boat, and let her thoughts scatter with the seagulls in the serenity of the waves. Once she got away from home, she'd taken her friends with her on larger boats. When she saw "Pirates of the Caribbean" for the first time, she was enchanted by the Black Pearl, the ghostly ship with its ripped and tattered black sails that still caught the wind, the fastest in the Caribbean… and now she'd get to see it! Ivy went back to paying attention to the conversation. She'd missed a line or two.

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is. I've seen it."

"You've seen it?"

"Yes."

"You haven't seen it."

"Yes, I have." Murtogg and Mullroy bickered like little children. Ivy decided to steal Emma's favorite line in the movie.

"You've seen a ship with black sails, that's crewed by the damned and captained by a man so evil that Hell itself spat him back out?" she asked, imitating Mullroy's voice perfectly. Murtogg didn't seem to realize that his companion hadn't said it.

"No," confessed Murtogg.

"No," Mullroy verified.

"But, I have seen a ship with black sails." Jack and Ivy took this opportunity to sneak onto the Interceptor. While Jack amused himself by pretending to steer, Ivy turned to listen to the rest of the conversation.

"Oh, and no ship that's not crewed by the damned and captained by a man so evil that Hell itself spat him back out could possibly have black sails, and therefore couldn't possibly be any other ship than the Black Pearl. Is that what you're saying?"

Murtogg nodded. "No," he said. He appeared to have thoroughly confused himself.

"Like I said," Mullroy gloated, turning back to where Jack and Ivy were supposed to be, "there's no real ship as can match the Interceptor." It took him a moment to notice his audience was no longer there. He turned, seeing them on the ship.

"Hey! You! Get away from there!" shouted Murtogg. The two soldiers ran over to the helm.

"You don't have permission to be aboard there, mates!" Ivy found this all a lot less humorous now that she had a gun in her face.

"I'm sorry. It's just- it's such a pretty boat," Jack explained.

"Ship," corrected Ivy. The pirate nodded.

"Ship."

"What's your name?"

"Smith," responded Jack, nonchalantly, "Smithy, if you like."

Murtogg and Mullroy turned to Ivy. "And yours?"

"Uh… Bilbo Baggins?" she offered, using the first name to pop into her head. She and the others were still reeling from Tyrone's "Lord of the Rings" kick.

"What's your purpose in Port Royal, Mr. Smith, Miss Baggins?" inquired Mullroy. Had she not had dangerous weapons pointed at her, Ivy would have laughed at his gullibility.

"Yeah, and no lies," added Murtogg.

Jack looked at them for a second. "Alright, I confess…" he began. Ivy was startled. She'd almost missed stealing one of her favorite lines.

"It is our intention to commandeer one of these ships, pick up a crew in Tortuga, raid, pillage, plunder, and otherwise pilfer our weasley black guts out," they finished together. Jack gave the grey-eyed girl a questioning look, and she mouthed, "Psychic." This was ridiculously fun.

"I said no lies!" Murtogg cried, indignantly. Ivy snickered inaudibly.

"I think he's telling the truth."

"If he was telling the truth he wouldn't have told us," reasoned Murtogg. In a strange way, this actually made sense.

"Unless, of course, he knew you wouldn't believe the truth even if he told it to you," Ivy piped in. That line was just asking to be stolen, and it sounded better if Jack wasn't speaking in third person, she thought.

That sentence, as she knew it would, left the two men completely confused. Jack looked relatively puzzled too. Ivy guessed he was trying to figure out who Bilbo Baggins was.

This isn't my favorite chapter, since it's mostly just the movie, but that's alright. Reviews will find you incapacitorially finding and/or locating in your discovering, a detecting of a way to get me to update sooner. Yep.

Again, critique is okay. I want to know if I'm doing something wrong. Feel free to be nitpicky. Alrighty, then.