As always, disclaimers are on the first chapter!

So, you've read this far, now have a bit of trivia! This was the first chapter written of this story. Yes, I realize it's chapter 4, but like I said, this story wasn't written in order. I just wrote things as they came to me.

All's Fair in Love and Mutiny

Sitting back in his chair with a sigh, Jack stared out the port-hole behind his desk, a bottle of rum in his hand. He hadn't touched it in hours, and didn't seem to notice. The sun was low in the sky, coloring the sea a deep orange-red. The room felt like it was closing in around him. He needed to see the open ocean again, to make sure that it was still there. Without thinking, he put the bottle on his desk and headed to the upper deck of the Black Pearl. A quick visual sweep assured him that everyone was doing their duty, including his head-strong and ambitious first-mate, Hector Barbossa, who was manning the helm. He fixed his gaze on Hector and crossed the deck, graceful as a cat on the unsteady flooring of the small ship.

"Mister Barbossa!" Jack called out as he approached, "How fares the crew this evening?"

"Well as could be expected, Captain." Hector eyed Jack warily.

"Good, good." Jack loved that he could put his first-mate on edge without actually doing anything. After all, he was just needling the poor bastard. "What of our passenger?"

Hector's gaze went from Jack to what seemed like the starboard side of the helm deck. Jack walked around his first mate and peered down the steps to a young woman who was sitting on the railing with her back against the rise to the helm deck. She was staring out over the ocean with the same far-away gaze that Jack had not moments before. He carefully made his way down the steps closest to the woman, careful to keep his steps soft and silent. Jack lived by the rule of thumb to never just give anything away, be it treasure, knowledge, or your position to your enemies.

"Mister Sparrow…"

Jack stopped with one foot on the main deck and the other still on the last step. How did she know it was him? To cover his hesitation, he quickly stepped off the last stair and around to her front, though her face was still turned out to sea.

"My lady," Jack said, laying the flattery in his voice on thick. "I hope my crew has treated ye well so far."

Reluctantly, the woman—Maren, Jack reminded himself—shifted her gaze from the ocean to Jack. Her eyes were a medium hazel in color, but held the hard, cold gaze of someone who didn't necessarily live a hard life, but had enough troubles that she didn't trust easy. Jack gave her a quick once-over, not the first since she boarded the Pearl. She was a solid woman, broad of shoulder and compact. Nothing like those tiny slips of girls that usually lived on land. She was definitely a seafaring woman and had the muscle to prove it. Despite having a tan that matched his own, her hair was still dark, with only a few sun-bleached highlights reflecting the light from the setting sun.

He noticed that she gave him her own once over, and he stood up straight to give her the best view possible. His pride deflated a bit when the once-over was followed by a sneer. "How about you stay in the cages tonight, and I'll take your bed."

With an undignified snort, Jack crossed his arms over his chest. "I offered ye my bed and you refused!"

"With you still in it, is what you meant!" Maren hopped from her perch to land solidly on the moving deck, and advanced so only a few slips of paper would be able to fit between her and Jack. She was only a mere three inches shorter than he was, and almost came nose-to-nose with him. "I'm not one of those filthy Tortuga girls," she spat, not even bothering to hide her disgust, "who fawn over you like…like…like—"

"You're standing awfully close for someone who's not interested in me offer." Jack's lips pulled back in a mischievous grin, his gold teeth flashing in the fading light.

With a "hrruff!" that was more of a growl than an actual word, Maren spun on her heel and stalked down to the bilge deck. Jack fancied that he heard the slamming of the cage door as she settled herself in for the night. His grin morphed into a frown. He didn't have the same desire to needle the girl like he did for needling Barbossa. He needled Barbossa to piss him off, but his needling of Maren had more to it. He wanted to keep her talking, just to hear her voice.

Maren plopped herself down on the make-shift bench in the cell she used as her sleeping quarters. With another "hrruff!", she crossed her arms and glared at the wall of the cage. Wall was a loose term. More like a wide grating made of cast iron. She didn't bother closing or locking the door, not only because there was no privacy anyway, but Jack had the key. There was no point to do anything more than sit, hrruff, and sulk. She stared off into space for a long time, her mind whirring with possible retorts that she could have said, possible alternative outcomes. Slowly her scowl turned into a smirk, before she realized where exactly her mind had wandered to. Shaking herself free of those thoughts, she lay down on the bench and closed her eyes, drifting off to sleep.

Jack was back in his cabin, staring out the port hole again into the dark this time. He couldn't understand the unusual feeling he had when he thought about Maren; especially when she had that angry look. A shiver ran up his spine, and he grinned. He knew she'd never take his offer to share a bed with him…not yet, at least. He took a swallow of rum, then another. Usually rum was his drink of choice, but tonight it was like a combination of liquid courage and to drown the fluttering in his stomach. He forced himself to turn back to the maps sprawled out on his desk.

Now, to concentrate on the task at hand…

* * * *

"Damn you, woman!" Jack shot a frustrated glare at Maren from across the helm. "What does it bloody take to get you out of my hair?"

Maren stood perfectly straight, legs crossed and hands clasped innocently behind her back. She tilted her head and regarded Jack's dreadlocks with child-like interest, as if she were taking his figure of speech literally. Her perfect poise and cat-like balance, even on the moving ship, were a stark contrast to her bouncing around and reading maps over Jack's shoulder earlier that day.

"Books," she finally said.

"Books...?" Jack still had that frustrated glare plastered to his face.

Maren nodded. "Books."

"When we get to Tortuga—"

"The only book we'd find in Tortuga is probably the Karma Sutra," Maren grumbled

Jack grinned. "I know that one."

"Real books, or I continue to be a pest."

"The Karma Sutra is a real book!"

Maren crossed her arms and took her turn to glare at Jack. "You told me to make myself useful, so I'm going to make myself useful as a Bard. I know music, and I know stories. I don't know what types of stories your crew likes, though. Either you help me, by getting me real books, or I go back to spending my days making sure you're thoroughly annoyed."

You say that like it's a threat, love! Jack mused to himself, a half-hidden smirk on his lips. "All right, when we pillage the town tonight, I'll make sure the men don't burn all the books, and bring some back, just for you."

* * * *

Her "room" was piled with books. Not so many that she couldn't stay in it like she had been, but there was no light down there. Instead, she lounged on Jack's bed, using a lantern that was bolted to the wall after the sun went down. Most nights, Jack would sit at his desk while she reclined in his bed, reading by lantern-light. She started to enjoy the quiet time they spent together, long into the night. Jack would usually be able to out-last her, though, and she would slip out just as exhaustion would turn her into the walking dead.

One night, Jack looked over when he hadn't heard the rustling of pages in a while. Maren had fallen asleep, still holding the book. He stood up and walked over to the side of the bed she was laying on without his usual swagger. Gently, he took the book from her hands and closed it, tossing it onto a pile of other books at the side of the bed. He reached out as if to pick her up, but thought better of it. Instead, he pulled the top blanket of his bed so that it wrapped around her. That night, he slept with in his chair with his feet propped up on his desk.

He was woken up before sunrise by an odd, yet pleasant pressure on the side of his head. It took his muddled brain a moment to realize that he wasn't in his bed like normal. He jolted awake, knocking himself to the floor from his chair. Using his desk to pull himself to his knees, he looked around the cabin wide-eyed as Maren was climbing back into his bed. He jumped to his feet and dusted himself off, as if he had meant to fall out of his chair.

Maren waited until he was looking at her again before she patted the empty side of the bed. Confused, Jack didn't dare to move. That was when Maren smiled at him in a way he was very, very familiar with…

* * * *

Maren was happy, not only to have her precious books to read, but she also enjoyed Jack's silent company at night. Despite his sarcasm, she was more than just warming up to the man, though she would never admit it out loud to herself or anyone else. There was a gentleness about him that would only come out when no one else was around them, and he had a few too many hits off the rum bottle. She noticed that Jack was also happier lately, since he had found that silly broken compass two days prior. He kept it strapped to his belt at all times now. She did not understand why he would be happy about a compass that didn't point north, but she did not care either. She was just happy that Jack was happy.

"Good morning, lady!" was Jack's very groggy early morning greeting.

Maren raised her book a little higher to cover her smile. "Good morning, Mister Sparrow. I see you're finally awake."

"'Finally'? You're usually the one sleeping in most days!"

Maren closed her book and set it aside before she snuggled down under the blanket and closer to Jack. "I could go back to sleep."

Jack's mischievous grin, as familiar to her as any other part of him, appeared on his lips. "I have a better idea than sleep, love."

She pressed her lips to his. Just as Jack was about to pull her close to him, she pulled away and gave him a mischievous smile of her own. "You also have a crew up there who might think their Captain has turned his back on them! Go, the hour is already late."

With a groan, Jack forced himself to get out of bed and dressed. As he emerged from his cabin, he blinked at the brightness of the afternoon sun. It felt like a grand day to him! He had Maren, and soon he would have the Treasure of Cortez.

"A word with ye, Cap'n!"

Jack shifted his gaze and eyed Barbossa warily. The man had never willingly approached him before, so Jack wondered what it was now that he wanted. "Yes, Mister Barbossa?"

"The crew an' I 'ave been discussin' among ourselves… We's be thinkin' that, since th' treasure we be goin' aft'r be so grand, we all be getting' an equal share. Includin' the bearin's."

Jack turned his gaze back to the clear blue sky as he thought about that. A smile crept to his lips as his mind wandered to his plans for that night with Maren, putting him in an even better mood. "Aye, Mister Barbossa. Sounds fair enough."

* * * *

His eyes were locked on the last spot he had seen the Black Pearl on the horizon. The last moments he spent on the ship were etched forever in his mind, and would not stop replaying.

He was warm and content in bed with Maren one moment, and then suddenly pulled to his feet by cold hands. Barbossa had allowed him to put on clothes, but forced him to watch as the crew dragged a naked Maren, kicking and screaming, out of his sight while he struggled against the bosun's iron grip. A part of him died that night with Maren's final scream of terror.

There was dialogue between Barbossa and himself, but rage and rum had made it all a blur. He was shoved from the plank, after they shoved his sword and a pistol with only one shot in his hands. Jack had not even made it to shore before the crew started their journey to the Isla de Muerta, under the command of the new Captain Barbossa.

With a bottle of rum in his hand, and rage in his heart for his lost loves, Jack stared at that horizon line and made two vows: to get his ship back, and to avenge Maren.