He had been woken barely an hour before dawn, and had been unable to close his eyes since. At nearly noon, a month into the voyage, and he'd lost seven men. Jack took another long pull from the bottle he was nursing. Seven men, in one night! The crew was unsettled, Gibbs kept going on about how having a woman on board was bad luck and that this just proved it. To top it all off he was queasy and he had a woman, for the first time in his memory, chained in the brig aboard the Pearl. Her effects were scattered about his room, the largest pile sitting in front of him on the desk. A beaded necklace, four daggers, two pistols, a sword, and the length of twine she used to tie back her hair. All had been expertly concealed on her person. Her hat, jacket, trousers, shirt and makeshift brassier lay on his bed; the boots she wore resting on floor just below it. He was surprised she'd been able to walk, let alone work with all those weapons strapped to her. Jack was slow to open her trunk and her bags, afraid of what might be in them. He decided to wait until later, he had much more to consider at the moment.

The men wanted to maroon her, no questions asked, but Jack wanted the whole story. He'd been dragged to the lowest level of the hold to find three pools of congealing blood, and a man laying face down in his own entrails. It was, by far, the most gruesome and horrific thing he'd ever seen. Not to mention the other four. One man impaled by a harpoon, another with a crushed skull, and two with limbs broken beyond usable repair. Why my ship? Jack thought. Why now, when, on top of everything, his compass still refused to show him his way. Resigned to his duty as Captain, he went to the brig.

She lay on the floor, looking like a fallen angel with her cream colored skin thrown into sharp contrast against the hue of the ship and her hair fanning out beneath her. He couldn't say exactly why, but he felt drawn to her, like a moth to a flame. It wasn't so much lust as it was an inescapable tugging in his gut. She lay there, covered only by a flimsy blanket that was standard brig issue, in other words, no good for any other purpose. She was motionless, her eyes closed, as if sleeping, but her breathing wasn't the deep even rhythm brought on by slumber. Even so, despite all the evidence to the contrary, she was still dangerous, Jack knew. Nothing was more hostile than a caged animal, no matter what form they took. Oddly enough, however, she did no pacing, screaming, or pulling on her chains. Of course, she'd picked the lock on the shackles as soon as she was alone in the room. She had simply given up hope. Her food and drink lay untouched, and she hadn't moved from her position in hours, though her back ached and her stomach growled fiercely. She knew she would most like be sentenced to death in some manner or another; why prolong the inevitable? When Jack puled a stool over and sat in front of her cell she didn't so much as glance at him. "Why?" He demanded. "Why am I short eight crew members?"

"You're not. I only killed five."

"Aye, but I've two men nursing broken limbs that will never be the same, and about as a good as rocks on a ship, and the woman who broke them sitting in me brig! So, once again, why?"

"Why? You want to know why?" Lianna sat up and glared at him through the bars. "They're dead because they got in my way! The one who's impaled? He tried to grab at me as I ran on deck, and the one with the crushed skull. He had the nerve to throw a dagger at me!"

"So, you crushed his skull, with...?"

"I dropped a cannon ball on his head. If they'd just let me be I'd be gone by now and you wouldn't have to worry about me! But no! I'm stuck here because some pompous ass couldn't bear the thought that he was beaten by a woman! Because he had to exact his revenge!"

"That's why they're dead? They were looking for revenge?"

"Well, I don't know about the other two, but Max was. They were scum! You may have noticed by now the pile of clothing near Max's body? They're all his, in the same condition they were when he took them off, but mine?" Her eyes flashed and she stood now, grabbing the bars keeping her from the rest of the world. Jack was taken aback at her strong reaction. Of course he'd noticed the difference in the conditions of their apparel. He guessed the cause, but he needed to hear the story from her if he hoped to convince the crew she deserved to stay. "Tell me" he said gently.

"I was up on deck..." Lianna told the whole story, from her perspective, and the simple acceptance of death in her tone accompanied by the bone chilling tale of insults, threats, and the final act of revenge had him trembling with rage. Why hadn't she told him? Pride, fear? If she had, he could have done something to prevent the terrible tale she was spinning. After she had finished he sat quietly for a moment. "That's the why of it then?"

" Always the why? Captain Jack Sparrow, I have been questioning the 'why' in my life for the past year! And I want my necklace! If I'm to die I want it with me; it's not for the likes of you and yours to rob me of after my body's gone cold!"

"Me and mine?"

"Yes! Your kind. Pirates! Bloody damn pirates!"

"And you're no pirate?"

"No, I'm not! I did what I had to in order to survive. Things change! I had to change, or I'd never have found him." she replied, softly now that her temper had cooled.

"Found who?" Lianna didn't answer, just looked away and sat on the floor again. They sat like that for a while, not saying a word. Suddenly Jack got up and left. When he came back he held a ring of keys and a heavy blanket.

"Here, love. Wrap this around yourself. We've had enough men trying and dying to get a hold of you."

"What?"

"Well, I can let you walk out in naught but your skin and that flimsy blanket if you want, but I don't care for the idea of having to shoot my own crew if they get too excited and cause problems."

"Why are you doing this?"

"I happen to think your actions are justified, besides, we're pirates. If something like this doesn't happen often enough we get edgy. It's really quite simple, darling. We crave excitement, of the worst kinds. Are you coming or can I leave you here for the rats?"

She took the blanket and wrapped it hastily about herself while Jack unlocked the cell door.

"Follow me, love. You'll be staying in my quarters for now. I'm tired of trouble on my ship."

Lianna was warm, full, and just little bit drunk. She'd spent the rest of the day and most of the night cooped up in Jack's room, and away from prying eyes and ears. She was tired, but resisted the urge to go to sleep just yet. Jack had ordered the ship anchored. He wanted to wait a bit before going on, especially if there was going to any fighting to hamper work on the ship. When she was sure no one else was out on deck, Lianna crept from the cot she occupied and into the moonlight. Taking great care to be quiet, she lowered a boat into the water and climbed in. She rowed a short distance away before discarding the meager amount of clothing she wore and diving into the water. It was cool and refreshing against her skin. She hadn't bathed since the incident with Max, and she felt grimy and unclean where he had touched her. She swam for a while before getting out her soap and proceeding to wash her hair. Afterwards she spent some more time swimming, enjoying the feel of the water caressing her skin in the way a lover might. Gentle and soft. Too rare were the moments like these; moments when she could smile. Once her task was done, she would have reason to smile more.

Jack was smiling as well as he watched her. She was a strange one. He hadn't met a woman so at odds with being a pirate since he'd walked away from Elizabeth for the last time. He had no doubts about Lianna though. She was a pirate. She may detest being called such, but it didn't make it less true. Few could take a life without blinking, but she could. She could kill him where he stood for looking at her the wrong way and not think twice about it; a far cry from Elizabeth, who not only killed him, but had denied that she was sorry about it. I'm not sorry. That's what she said. If she wasn't sorry, why then did she risk her own life to free him from Davy Jones' Locker? He much preferred Lianna. Sooner or later, she'd come to terms with what she was. Just as it had been with Elizabeth, there was the curiosity, lurking just below the surface. What would it be like to live as a pirate? To love a pirate? No, given enough time she wouldn't be ashamed of being labeled a pirate, or even branded as one; although, he imagined any man stupid enough to brand her as anything would be given cause to regret it later. Feeling bold he decided to greet her as she made her way back to the Pearl and onto the deck. When she came aboard she was still dripping, and still without her scraps of clothing.

"Nice night for a swim, eh?" She whipped around, her eyes burning.

"What right have you to spy on me?"

"Well, love a man sees what he sees, and it is my ship, so pardon me if I feel free to stand about on the deck watching whatever catches my eye. Oh, by the way, you might want to get dressed. There's no telling when someone might come stumbling up on deck in the middle of the night."

" Is nothing sacred between pirates?"

"Since you have to ask, clearly you've been a pirate for too short a time, darling."

"I'm not a pirate! And don't call me love or darling, I'm neither to you or to anyone else." Upset, she grabbed her clothes and headed back towards the captain's quarters. Once inside she grabbed what apparel was wearable and quickly dressed, only to find, that her shirt was in serious disrepair. Now what do I do? She thought. That was my last shirt, I never got around to buying more! Of course I didn't think I'd need too many because I never planned on getting attacked. She searched through her bags for a moment, and soon discovered she had nothing but trousers left. "Here, borrow one of mine." said Jack, holding out a light blue shirt. It was too large on her small frame, but serviceable. "Thank you."

Lianna felt better after she was dressed. She didn't feel as vulnerable, or as strange as she had when Jack had met her by the railing, wearing one of his inexplicable smiles. She began to grab her things from his desk and stowing them, once more, in various places upon her person. Needless to say she wasn't at all surprised when she turned and found Jack between her and the cot. "What now?" she asked, obviously annoyed.

"You know, love, a pirate's life can be quite a hardship. And it can be quite lonely..." He was expertly cornering her between his body and his desk. Since he'd taken quite a few chances tonight, he didn't see how one more could hurt as he ran a hand across her cheek, and then her neck.

"Jack?", Lianna whispered when he was only inches away.

"Yes, love?"

"What exactly are you doing?"

"I thought it was quite clear, darling. You're not one of those women who've gone their whole lives without a tumble are you?"

"That's none of your business!"

"Why don't we make it my business, love? After all, you're quite attractive."

Fine, she thought, If he wants to play, we'll play. Leaning forward, she kissed him, gently, but not intimately, at first. When he deepened the kiss, not only was she taken aback by his audacity, but by the the deep liquid tug of yearning she felt. She was half tempted to let it run it's course and see what happened, but that would be foolish. She needed to focus, and she couldn't do that if she was romantically involved with anyone, particularly her captain. Slowly she reached down and pulled the revolver from the sash tied at Jack's waist and brought down with a loud thud upon his head. He stumbled back with a bewildered look that was half smile half surprise before he slumped to the floor, unconscious. "Don't call me love, Jack. And never underestimate a woman."

When he awoke, Jack had a throbbing headache. He couldn't quite remember why until he saw his pistol lying beside him on the floor, and Lianna asleep in his bed. Couldn't blame her though, his bed was quite comfortable. She was a confusing lass, that much was certain. First she kisses him, stirs him up, and then knocks him out cold with his own pistol. "Curse the god what seemed fit to put women in a mind to sail." Muttering to himself, Jack stood and walked towards the bed. He shook Lianna hard enough to make her start up in the bed, knife in hand.

"Easy, love. Just a wake up call."

"Who, what? What time is it?"

"Out of bed, love. You've got work to do." Jack said, a smile playing across his lips.