Oh-ho-ho! We start learning things about Anita! And why Michelle is REALLY on the ship! I've been asked this, but this is PRE-Curse of the Black Pearl, it's one year or so earlier, and there's a bit of time before the encounters of Jack Sparrow. There will be an early cameo by him in one scene before the actual events of DMC. I've gotten some very nice reviews, and I'm happy about that! Thank you everyone!

Ch. 4.

Jones laughed at Michelle's comment afterwards, which was on how he could never be a worthy gentleman with such forward confrontations to young women. "I think I should tell yeh why I ever allowed a girl like ye upon my ship." He commented.

"I'd rather not hear that, thank you." She replied swiftly. "In fact, as soon as land is in sight, you may just toss me overboard if you wish."

Jones glanced at her chuckling. "See, I can' jus' let ye off." He replied. "Yer father's got a debt to settle." Michelle laughed.

"My father, have a debt to settle? With you?" She found herself highly amused. "I'm sorry, but my father has a high standing in the French government, and has absolutely nothing to do with pirates."

Jones snorted, highly entertained. "Ye don' seem to know yer father as well as ye thought ye did, then, do ye?" Michelle stared at him strangely. "Yer father's a dirty scoundrel of a pirate, an' you'll no doubt, follow in 'is footsteps."

Michelle turned from him. "The only scoundrel in this conversation is you, sir." She growled. "And I want to know why I should think otherwise."

Land passed them countless times, and not once did it appear Jones was going to let her off. Though the outlook of things appeared bleak, the French girl decided she might want to take things into her own hands. Over a month had passed, and the girl managed to pass through the crew without being harmed, thanks to the fear that had sparked within the crew, from the threat from Jones.

Michelle had always been a bit more outgoing than the other girls in Martinique, and perhaps it was one of the reasons why she had difficulties getting married. Most men didn't want to waste their time on a girl who'd rather be sailing than bearing children. She had always been the type to speak back if she was offended. Having had grown up with only an older sister who died after marrying and giving birth, and mostly brothers, she had learned to fight back. Of course, she never showed it to her father, knowing he would disapprove. Only her brothers and a scarce few men and women saw her more rambunctious side. She loved her excuse to her hidden personality. Flat out, it was because she was French. She laughed in the face of those who said otherwise. Martinique was a small island, and most of the men were off sailing, nearly constantly. So, her, along with many of the women, were privately taught how to use swords, pistols, and fight off men, who were obviously considerably stronger than the women of the French colony.

Michelle was seated with Anita in the little room beneath the stairs, wringing out the bottom of her dress, debating on asking Anita if there was an easier option than wearing a dress everywhere. The girl however, seemed to be in a trace, with a single candle remaining lit, the others having been put out by droplets of water throughout the sort of ritual.

"A-Anita?" Michelle asked, knowing that her English had improved much quicker than expected. The Spaniard glanced at Michelle with a dark expression. It was obvious that Anita wasn't too fond of Michelle.

"What?" she snapped, relighting the other candles. "If it's unimportant, then shut up and let me finish."

"I'm just curious about something?" she said. "About the Captain." Anita snorted in amusement.

"Ask away, but trust me, if you want to know why he acts the way he does, don't bother. None of us know that." Anita was constantly in a foul mood, practically everything she said was nasty.

"I just want to know, but does he ever say things that aren't true?" she asked meekly. Anita laughed.

"What cur on this ship doesn't?" she chuckled. "B'lieve me, Davy Jones is the biggest liar of the lot."

"I mean," Michelle began again, searching for how to word this. It seemed best that perhaps she just explain. "He said my father was a pirate. But I know that to be false."

"Then 'e was lyin'!" Anita groaned. She rolled her eyes and began to play with the fire on one of the candles. "Honestly, girl, you're so bloody feminine—" There was scraping noise of metal, and a sharp tip was pressed against a part of Anita's bare back. Michelle was behind the young woman, a sword in her hand, holding it on Anita's back.

"If I must be," Michelle hissed. "I can be the farthest thing from feminine." Anita turned slightly, as Michelle removed the sword from her back, and slid it into a hidden scabbard. It was hidden quite well too, behind a thick, partially sewn on fragment of fabric.

A smile flickered on to Anita's face, illuminated by the faint glow of the candles, and she simply said: "I think the Captain'll like you now."

Anita rose to her feet quickly, grabbed a bag of some sorts from the room and lead Michelle out. It still hadn't occurred to her, as to where Michelle had gotten the sword. Perhaps she had had it all along, and just never saw fit to make its presence known.

She quickly ascended the staircase, bag in on arm, Michelle's wrist in the other. The deck and stairs were slippery, typical. If the ship was dry, that probably meant they had been marooned on some lone island somewhere far out at sea.

Anita banged on the door to Jones' cabin, the sound of the sepulchral organ music echoing from within. Anita banged again against the barnacle encrusted door, and waited for Jones to respond. She was about to bang again, before she heard the clunking inside from the pirate captain. Anita and Michelle both backed away a few steps, knowing Jones was the type of man who never seemed to underestimate himself, and liked to show off his immense strength by throwing doors open, almost knocking them off their hinges.

And the captain had done just that. The door swung open quickly, and powerfully, nearly hitting both girls, even though they had both taken a substantial step backwards.

"An' what exactly were yeh plannin' on speakin' ta me about?" he asked gruffly, noticing it was the two girls who were common on his ship. Anita glared at him, and held out her arm with the bag.

"I think you might want her around, Cap'n." she said, reaching over to Michelle's side and pulling out the sword. "She's had this, Sir." She added, holding the sword to him, handle first. "I don't know how long she's had it, or where it came from."

Jones took the sword, and examined it, laughing so his tentacle beard swished a bit. The sword was the cleanest thing on the ship, glinting in the dull sunlight. It was obviously not made of the best metal, but it was an exceptional sword for a girl. "Nice sword." Jones commented. "For a woman that is." Jones set the bag Anita had given him on the ground, and returned the blade to Michelle, offering her the handle. "Can ye use it?"

Michelle shrugged a bit. "Decently." She growled. "I learned when I was younger." Jones grinned, as Michelle took the sword back, and was about to return it to its scabbard.

"Miss Belard." He said, putting a strange emphasis on her last name. "Show me that ye can use it." He reached to his side with his more humanistic hand, unsheathing a larger, clearly stronger sword. Michelle stared at him in partial disbelief. "I give no mercy ta women." He advised. "If ye wish not ta fight, by all means, walk away."

Michelle smiled a bit, she knew this man was a pirate and obviously highly skilled in swordsmanship. But why walk away from a good fight. It wasn't as if he was going to try and kill her.

However, all assumptions aside, the moment Michelle raised her sword again, Jones lashed at her as if it was a fight to the death. She held her sword firmly holding back the majority of the swing. Obviously, the pirate was going easy on her. He had a massive amount of strength, and was holding that back, but his skill, he was surely using to his advantage.

Michelle swung her sword around to unhook her sword from the Captains. She was sure she wasn't going to win this fight, but she was up for something at least mildly entertaining for the time being. She shuffled back as Jones swung at her, holding her sword firmly blocking what she needed to of his swings before taking a slight lunge forward, swinging at the pirate and taking a short jab, reaching his arm. Backing off, she smiled and said, "Touché." Jones laughed, having barely felt the touch.

"Yer decent, girl." He complimented, starting to put his sword back. Michelle slid her sword back into her scabbard. It really was her sword, she had gotten it years earlier, and her father insisted she have it at all times, in case such a kidnapping like this took place. She began to open her mouth to speak, but the pirate came at her, and jabbed down at her quickly. But before Michelle could move from the attack, or bring her sword back out to block, something clashed with the blow.

Anita crashed chest first with the jab, the blade sliding right through her chest. Michelle screamed a bit, and covered her eyes with her hands, but heard Anita speak. "Now that was just rude." She hissed, as Michelle uncovered her eyes, to see Anita yanking the blade from the left side of her chest. Surely, because that's where her heart was, she should have been bleeding to death. She examined the tear in her dress and looked at Michelle. "What?" she asked, unsure as to why Michelle was pale and shocked.

"H-he just stabbed you through the chest!" she shouted. "And you're alive! And you're not bleeding!"

"And?" Anita asked, nonchalantly.

"How did you do that!" Michelle gasped. Crew members were starting to encircle them, laughing and speaking amongst themselves.

"I'm dead." Anita replied, taking the Captain's sword and shoving it into the chest of a nearby crewman. He stared downwards at the stab and growled, pulling the sword out, yanking out an axe and swinging at Anita. And in moments, most of the crew had weapons out and were fighting. Michelle watched blatantly, and suddenly found herself with her sword out, and fighting crewmembers, trying get up to Anita to scream at her for not telling her that she was dead. Michelle swung at a crewman and searched for Anita and sliced a few more times before pointing around, finding that she had her sword at the Captain. Completely accidental. The fighting ceased, Michelle sheathed her sword, and the crew returned to their posts.

She was staring at the Captain, who looked thoroughly infuriated. Michelle stared at the waterlogged wood of the ship beneath her, avoiding his gaze. After a moment, the Captain began laughing. "I told ye, that ye had pirate in ye." He said. "Ye fight like one."

Michelle raised an eyebrow at him. "Pardon moi, mais je ne suis pas une pirate." She snorted in French.

"You, maybe not, but yer father, yes." Jones corrected. "Yer father's a Pirate Lord, lass. Monsieur Belard, is tha' what he goes by now? His real name's Chevalle, Captain Chevalle to be exact." He leaned down, so he was face to face with Michelle. "And yer father's got a debt to settle."