First dead fish people, now Tortuga. Today wasn't a very good day, smell-wise. And that's coming from someone whose nose is perpetually lined with stinky rosin dust.

The three of us-Gibbs, Jack, and I-were sitting off to the side of a noisy, crowded tavern. Jack sat against the wall, trying to make his compass work. Gibbs was behind a small, desklike table, running the sign-up sheet. I sat at a table behind them, having been instructed by Jack to "stay put, be quiet...basically act nothing like yourself for as long as you can manage, savvy?" It was very boring. I wondered if trying out my new violin would qualify as "being quiet."

An elderly man hobbled up.

"And what makes you think you're worthy to crew the Black Pearl?" said Gibbs.

"Truth be told," the old man rasped, "I never sailed a day in me life. I figure I should get out and see the world while I'm still young."

"You'll do. Make your mark. Next!"

A very, very drunk man staggered up. "My wife ran off with my dog, I'm drunk for a month, and I don't give an ass rat's whether I live or die."

"Perfect! Next."

"Me have only one arm 'n' a bum leg."

"It's the crow's nest for you. Next!"

"Ever since I was a little lad, I've always wanted to sail the seas. Forever."

"Sooner than you think. Sign the roster."

"Thanks very much."

"How we going?" Jack asked.

"Including those four? That gives us...four!" Gibbs turned back to the next person in line. "And what's your story?" I pushed back my hat a little and gaped. It was none other than Norrington. But now his clothes were battered, his wig was frizzy, and his face was dirty and beardy.

"My story? It's exactly the same as your story, just one chapter behind. I chased a man across the Seven Seas. The pursuit cost me my crew, my commission, and my life."

"Commodore?"

"No, weren't you listening?" Norrington demanded. "I nearly had you all off Tripoli. I would have, if not for...the hurricane."

"Lord." Gibbs's eyes widened in sympathy. "You didn't try to sail through it?"

"So do I make your crew, or not? You haven't said where you're going. Somewhere nice?" The last word came out as a grunt as Norrington shoved the table over. The music that someone had been playing stopped, and everyone turned to stare at us.

"Whoa," I said, staring at the overturned table. "He's got issues." Jack grabbed a plant from a vase and held it in front of his face; with his free hand, he grabbed me by the wrist and yanked me along as he attempted to escape.

"So am I worthy to serve under Captain Jack Sparrow?" Norrington sneered, pointing his pistol at Jack. "Or should I just kill you now?"

Slowly, I removed my wrist from Jack's hand, putting a finger to my lips. I snuck around behind Norrington. He was too drunk to notice.

"You're hired," said Jack to Norrington, but his eyes were on me, smiling ever so slightly.

"Sorry. Old habits and all that," said Norrington.

Just before he could pull the trigger, I grabbed Norrington by the elbows and pulled. Under normal circumstances, I would barely have been able to make him budge an inch, but with him being both drunk as a skunk and taken by surprise, he staggered backward, the pistol shooting harmlessly at the ceiling. I managed to dive out of the way before he fell on me, and I landed the dive with an only slightly clumsy somersault. For a moment I just froze in that cool kneeling spy position, realizing what a long way I'd come from the daydreaming girl who barely knew port from starboard to the totally badass pirate I'd always dreamed of being. Meanwhile, the ball from Norrington's pistol ricocheted off the chandelier and broke a man's bottle as he was drinking from it. He conked his neighbor over the head with the remaining glass and almost instantly an enormous fight broke out.

"Time to go!" said Jack quickly, striding over and pulling me to my feet.

"Aye!" Gibbs sat up, having been lying on his back since Norrington tipped the table over. Poor guy. If I hadn't been busy trying to be all badass I would have helped him up myself.

The three of us maneuvered through the crowds of brawling pirates, Jack trading hats with a few of them along the way. Ultimately Jack decided no hat at all was better than having a hat that looked stupid, so he plopped it down on the head of a man about to be thrown over the edge of a railing. "Carry on, heave," Jack encouraged the two men that were holding the guy as we continued on.


We'd begun the process of loading up the Pearl with supplies when I noticed a couple of shifty-looking guys lingering at the edge of the docks. Boys, really-neither of them looked much older than fourteen or fifteen, all scrawny and gawky. One of them had freckles all over his face and the other had a big crooked nose like a hawk's beak. They were holding a burlap sack, each of them trying to shove it at the other.

"You do it!" said Freckles.

"No, you!" said Beaknose.

"It don't sit right with me. You got to."

"What are you, a baby?"

"You're the baby!"

"All right, gimme the bleedin' thing, I'll do it!" Beaknose grumbled. "I ain't no baby." He snatched the bag and made to throw it in the water. I realized with horror that the bag was squirming. And...was that meowing I heard?

"Stop!" I cried, running over. Beaknose paused.

"Oy, mind your own business. We got orders from our captain," he sneered.

"Don't hurt that cat!"

"We're not."

"Oh, right," I said scornfully, "I'm sure you were just trying to give it a bath. Inside a bag that's tied shut." I glared at them and turned away as if I was going to leave. Then, quick as...well, a cat, I turned back, snatched the bag, and ran back towards the Pearl.

I opened the sack. A tiny kitten with black and grey tiger stripes and big bluish-green eyes poked her head out and gave a pitiful squeal. "Aww, you're so precious! Oh my goodness! You're just a lil' baby." I picked her up out of the bag and scratched her behind the ears. She purred and rubbed her head against my hand. "I'm not gonna let anybody hurt you, don't you worry," I cooed. The cat wriggled out of my hands and climbed up on top of my head.

"'Ey, look," Pintel said Ragetti, pointing, "that cat's got a poppet unner it." They chortled.

"Isn't she cute?" I said, picking her up off my head and holding her out for them to see. They both reached out to pet her. The kitten nipped Pintel's finger and he pulled back, yelping, which made Ragetti giggle. Pintel smacked him. At that moment, Jack walked by, and then he did a double-take and backed up.

"Where did you find that?"

"In a bag. An actual cat in a bag, isn't that funny?" I said. "I rescued her."

"You'd better hurry up and find a home for it elsewhere, because it is not coming on my ship," said Jack.

"Aw, Jack! C'mon!" I held up the cat in front of my face and pretended she was the one talking. "Pleeease, Cap'n! I'm so cute and fluffy, and I can help keep rats away!"

"A rat could eat you," Jack told the cat, "and it wouldn't even get full."

"'S good luck, havin' a cat aboard," Gibbs said, coming down the Pearl's ramp.

"Pretty please?" I asked Jack, batting my eyes at him.

"Oh all right," Jack huffed. "First a parrot, then the monkey, now a cat...turning into a bloody menagerie." He turned to walk up onto the Pearl when Elizabeth came along.

"Captain Sparrow!" she called.

About to walk aboard the ship, Jack paused.

"Come to join me crew, lad? Welcome aboard!"

"I'm here to find the man I love."

An expression of discomfort crossed Jack's face, and he made a motion to Gibbs as if suggesting to dump the speaker over the side. "Deeply flattered, son, but my first and only love is the sea."

I cuddled the cat and tried to ignore the twisty feeling in my stomach at Jack's words. It didn't help that Norrington chose that moment to vomit over the side.

"Meaning William Turner, Captain Sparrow," Elizabeth specified.

Jack's expression turned to one of slight panic. "Elizabeth. Hide the rum," he told Gibbs, who nodded and went off to do so. Turning around, Jack smiled at Elizabeth. "You know, these clothes do not flatter you at all," he said, gesturing to her rough-and-tumble-y boy clothes. "It should be a dress or nothing. I happen to have no dress in my cabin."

"I know Will came to find you," she said to Jack. "Where is he?"

"Darling, I am truly unhappy to have to tell you this, but," Jack began, "through an unfortunate and entirely unforeseeable series of circumstances that have absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with me, poor William has been press-ganged into Davy Jones's crew."

"Davy Jones?" Elizabeth repeated.

Norrington vomited over the side again and then spat. "Oh, please. The captain of the Flying Dutchman?"

"You look bloody awful," said Jack, frowning. "What are you doing here?"

"You hired me," Norrington retorted. "I can't help it if your standards are lax."

Jack made a face at him. "You smell funny."

"Um, hello, kettle? This is pot. You're black," I said. Jack made the same face he'd made at Norrington at me. Displaying oodles of maturity, I made a face back at him, sticking my tongue out and wrinkling my nose. Jack responded by scrunching his mouth up and over to one side and crossing his eyes. This probably would have gone on for hours if not for Elizabeth.

"Jack," Elizabeth said, once again trying to rein in his rather short attention span. "All I want is to find Will."

"Are you certain? Is that what you really want?"

"Of course."

"Because I would think that you'd want a way to save Will most."

"And you have a way of doing that?"

"Well, there is a chest..."

"Oh, dear." Norrington rolled his eyes.

Overhearing the conversation as they passed by with a crate full of rum, Pintel and Ragetti joined in. "What contains the still-beatin' heart of Davy Jones!" Pintel said, finishing Jack's sentence.

Ragetti pretended it was sitting right there in his hand. "Unh-unh...unh-unh...unh-unh..."

"And whoever possesses that chest possesses the leverage to command Jones to do whatever it is that he or she wants," said Jack, "including saving dear William."

"You don't actually believe them, do you?" said Norrington incredulously.

"How do we find it?" said Elizabeth.

"With this." Jack pulled out his compass. "My compass...is unique."

"'Unique' here having the meaning of 'broken,'" said Norrington.

"True enough," Jack agreed. "This compass does not point north."

Norrington vomited over the side again. I glanced at him. "Okay, precisely how many tons of rum have you consumed in the past twenty-four hours?"

"Where does it point?"

"It points to the thing you want most in this world."

"Oh, Jack," said Elizabeth, smiling. "Are you telling the truth?"

"Every word, love. And what you want most in this world is to find the chest of Davy Jones, is it not?" he asked Elizabeth.

"To save Will?" said Elizabeth, frowning.

"By finding the chest of Davy Jones," Jack repeated.

He put the compass in Elizabeth's hands and then drew away quickly, as if getting too close would scare off the heading. The arrow pointed clearly in one direction. Slowly, Jack rose, peering at the face of the compass. "Mr. Gibbs!"

"Cap'n."

"We have our heading."

"Finally! Cast off those lines, weigh anchor, and prow that canvas!"

Meanwhile, Pintel dumped a goat into Norrington's arms. "Welcome to the crew, former Commodore!" He snickered. The goat neighed.


A/N: If anyone's interested, there is now a blog on tumblr dedicated to this series of stories, in which I've been posting a whole bunch of stuff like music that's been mentioned and drawings of mine. There's a link on my profile. Check it out!