Disclaimer: I don't own Jack and Vicki doesn't want Will anymore (at least that's what she says but recent shiver activity declares strongly otherwise). I would like to address a very important point here. This is to JosieandthePussyCats "friend". My co-author and co-conspirator in crime, Vicki and I, were both furious that you had taken certain phrases and actions word for word and given them to your friend to use in her story. If you have already apologized to Vicki than thank you for that, but do not do it again. Please, this piece of work has been the fruit of two years labor. Don't try and run off with what we consider our baby, we've worked too hard for someone to come along and pass it off as their work, and get the credit which is rightfully ours.

Disregard anything written here. You know except for the whole taking things from us. Everything is resolved and happy and it's nice to have a new friend in Josie and her friends. We're just using our old chapters from when they were first posted so not all the disclaimers are up to date.

You know, more people should see Jack asleep…or knocked out as the case was. He almost looked…innocent. Now that was a disturbing thought.

Jack began to stir.

"Ah…bloody 'ell. Why is it always me? I feel…"

"Like you were hit over the head with an oar? You were." I gave him my hand to help him up.

He stood, swaying on the spot; his hand grasped my shoulder to steady himself.

He touched a hand to the side of his face, "Ye got quite a swing on ye, lass." He mumbled looking down at the oar in my hand.

I started, "Oh no! No, no, no…I…I didn't hit you."

"The oar in yeh 'an disputes tha' litt'l excuse, love." He indicated to the oar.

I pushed it into his hand, irritated. Nothing was easy with him. "Well, now it's in your possession. Will knocked you out." I said, "He left with Elizabeth and Vicki, back to the Interceptor some time ago."

Sparrow held the oar as if it were the cane we lost in Tortuga, using it to support his weight, "An' ye, lass. Why ye be 'ere?"

"I thought you of all people would know that life is never as exciting without the great Captain Jack Sparrow."

Jack's expression darkened, "Nor more dangerous with 'im." He replied sternly, "Yer in over yer 'ead, lass."

"Oh, puh-leeeeese…" I snorted.

"I mean it, lass, I don't want yeh 'ere." He said again, taking an imposing step forward. What was he gonna do, force me to shake a tale feather and run for the hills? I don't think so. You and I both know that's not the way I work.

I opted for the rational route of reason. "Well, you're just gonna have to suck it up, 'cause there's no freaking way I can catch up with them now." I argued.

"Foine." He snapped, "But stay 'ere…"

"Hell no!" I exclaimed indignantly, "And let you have all the swash-swash-buckle-buckling fun by yourself? No way, Jose. I'm tagging along."

"Listen, love…" He said stepping closer, his tone that of someone trying to pacify an obstinate child, "Do this…"

I looked at him skeptically, "Or what?"

"Look…" He seized my shoulders, then seemed to gather his calm again, and he lowered his voice, "Ave I ever given yeh a reason not ta trust me?"

Knees felt a little unsteady…oh he was sly, the evil bastard. That line was this close to making me melt. But that was his game, and that line wasn't going to work for me this time.

"Uh, yes."

It looked like I had thrown him for a loop. Heh, heh, heh, not gonna work today, Jackie Boy.

"For example?"

"Not telling us that the cider had turned, and almost getting us drunk…Shall I continue?"

"Alrigh', alrigh'!" He bit out angrily, having been foiled, "But ye do as I say, got tha'?"

"Like I got a loverly bunch of coconuts, de dil-la-dee, which I don't really, although if we ever needed to fake horse sounds they would come in handy."

Jack paused, "Was that a 'yes'?"

"No."

"Then tha' was a 'no'?"

"Yes."

"So it'is a 'yes'?"

"Yes."

"Alrigh' then. Stick close."

I latched myself onto his arm.

"Not tha' close."

"Deal with it." I steered him in a certain direction and began to walk, "Now, let's find us an adventure!"

And I walked us right into Barbossa's goons.

"Wow, that was fast." I remarked.

Jack glared dangerously at me, "Ye did tha' on purpose." He accused.

"I guess we'll never know."

" 'Ey!" Pintel exploded seeing us. He pointed a lone finger at Sparrow in outrage and utter disbelief, "Yer supposed ta be dead!"

Jack looked down at himself as if half expecting to see a gaping hole in his chest, "Am I not?" Satisfied that he was whole with none of his limbs missing, he turned to leave, as if he would remedy that for them secretly making his escape. I stayed put. We would be here for a while.

A gun cocked ominously behind me and a mere second later, Jack rejoined himself at my side, realizing there was no point. Hell, I could have told him that, but sometimes Jack's not a very good listener.

Pintel and Ragetti had their own pistols pointed right at our noses. Jack stalled as if he weren't quite expecting them to be there, he reeled back slightly and his tongue danced in an effort to get out a certain word. I leaned back against a rock as he struggled with a pronunciation that would save his life.

"Purla…perlalalulu…parsnip…parsley…" He fumbled about for the right word, and I waited for the 'Partner…partner…Howdy partner, howdy partner.' But was disappointed when Ragetti cut him off before he could finish.

"Parle?" Ragetti suggested.

"Tha's it! Tha's the one! Parle! Paaaaar-leeeeee!"

Pintel turned to glare at Ragetti in astonished incredulity, "Parle?" How stupid can you get man?

I nodded my head toward the thinner of the ruffians, "Thanks, mate."

"Damn ta the depths, whatever mutton-head though' of the word 'Parle'!" Pintel snarled, turning to us again, brandishing the gun threateningly.

I moved forward and put my arm over Sparrow's shoulder as he leaned forward and lowered the nuzzle of the gun with his fingers and we both replied, "The French."

Turning slowly to face me, Jack exclaimed, "Will ye stop tha'?"

"Fetch the Captain!" Pintel hollered over his shoulder, gun never wavering from its mark on the both of us.

"No, don't do that…" I murmured.

"Shut yer 'ole, wench!" Pintel growled.

"Wench!" Ragetti echoed happily.

"HA HA HA, you're so CUTE!" I exclaimed, but then turned stony faced, "But seriously, call me a wench again and I'll slap you silly. Slap, slap, bitch."

"Ye 'ear tha'?" Ragetti nudged Pintel, "She says she thinks I'm cute!" He gave a girlish giggle.

"I 'eard 'er!" Pintel snapped.

Jack and I shared a glance.

"I also called you 'bitch'; I'm well read that way."

It suddenly became absolutely still. The quiet thickened, as if it were a death march drum solo. I saw the crowd of buccaneers part to reveal the tall, intimidating figure of Barbossa. A shiver ran through me. Now Geoffrey Rush by himself is uneasy enough, but this…this man before us was real. And he was not happy.

"Whoah…" I murmured, "Scary…"

"How the blazes did ye get off tha' island?" Barbossa sneered menacingly.

Smiling timidly, I waited for Sparrow's answer that could almost always make me forget we were surrounded by murderous, traitorous, sea dogs.

Jack leaned forward on the oar to answer, "When you marooned me on tha' godforsaken spit o' land," he spat out in calm disgust, "ye fergot one very important thin', mate…" He opened his arms as if he were a force that could not be barred by regular human standards, "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."

I chuckled. Wrong thing to do.

Barbossa's eyes caught sight of me finally. Moving closer with a predatory gait he peered down at me, "An' 'oo's fine company 'ave yeh been in, Sparrow? Anotha of yer whores, mayhap? She's no' as fine as the others, but she 'as plenty o' skin on 'er bones. Getting' desperate, are we?"

Ouch, Barbossa actually brought it!

Straightening my back in an effort not to cower into a ball or to punch his lights out, I placed my hand forward. "The name's Rachel, if you don't mind. Also known as Jack Sparrow's Bonny Lass, the best and the greatest of them, might I add. Don't worry, you're not the first to call me whore, or strumpet today…but you are the first to say I'm fat. You know just because I weigh 148lbs does not make me a cow, don't let this fool ya, most of it's muscle….pleased ta meet ya."

"Likewise." Barbossa smiled a terrible smile. Eruch…feel nasty things crawling under my skin. "Ye do 'appen ta be aware of Sparrow's fortune at bein' an unfortunate devil, eh? Are yeh positive yeh want 'im ta drag ye down with 'im?"

"Drag me down…go down on me…same difference." I muttered.

"Eh?"

"I'll take my chances." I clarified, "Oh and how did you come up with a lame ass name like Barbossa, anyway?"

"Why you litt'l…!" He began murderously. Jack hastily stepped between us.

"I think it's a lovely name, just like yer motha's." Jack claimed happily, "But tha' not bein' the point 'ere, but the fact tha' nothin' in 'eaven or 'ell can stop Captain Jack Sparrow."

"Well," Barbossa smirked, seemingly thinking he could remedy that easily, "I won't be makin' tha' mistake…again." Turning he addressed his bullies, "Gents! Ye'll remember Captain Jack Sparrow? Kill 'im." He uttered in a soft poisonous whisper. "An' bring the gel ta me. We'll teach 'er not ta rip into names, shall we?"

The men grunted in response, wide evil grins turned to smile recklessly at us. Many cocked their guns while others made to reach for me.

Jack straightened, his face hard when he spoke, and his voice rang out like a slap throughout the cave, "The gel's blood didn't work, did it?"

Barbossa stopped dead and stood ridgedly in silence, "Hold yer fire!" He barked more than a note of impatience in his voice. He spun around and approached us again, the darkness of his displeasure rolling off him in waves, "Ye know whose blood we need." He accused Sparrow.

Jack's voice dipped into a deeper, self-satisfied, dangerous whisper of agreement, "I know 'ose blood yeh need."

I swooned. No, really, I actually swooned right onto Pintel. No kidding, I just put a hand to my head and…fell back. I know, perfect timing right? But, jesus, he just always sounded so damn devilish when he said that line.

All this, of course, drew stares.

"Wha's wrong with 'er?" Barbossa inquired frankly of Jack, gazing oddly at me.

"Lots o' thin's, mate." Jack answered pleasantly.

I don't like being mocked. Let's just make that clear. "Your mom's lots of things…in my pants." I muttered, pushing myself off of Pintel, shooting a look at Sparrow.

"She's an odd one…" Barbossa remarked.

Jack nodded his agreement.

"Kill 'er."

WHAT?

"We've no need o' 'er."

"WHOAH! HEY THERE! SHOOT MAN!"

"Ye 'eard 'er lads, shoot."

"NO! Hold your goddamn fire, you nitwits! Par-freakin-le!"

"Wha'?"

"PARLE!" I screeched. "What are you, forking deaf or something?"

Well that must have hit a nerve or something (ya know the old man's not as spritely as he used to be, I bet)because old Babs growled menacingly, "Take 'em to the ship!" He ordered, though it was clear to all what he wanted most in the world was to get rid of us then and there.

Pintel reached for my arm. I mean, I know he was my cushion when I fell but honestly…how desperate do you think I am? Don't answer that, by the way.

"I can walk very well on my own, thank you." I snapped succinctly, walking forward to keep pace with Sparrow.

He snuck a sly glance at me from the corner of his eyes, "Me bonny lass, eh? Las' nigh' ye didn't seem so willin', now it's all Rum an' gigg'ls…"

"Don't flatter yourself," I cut him off with a stern reminder, "out of all the pirates here you happen to be the coolest…and the cleanest. Besides," I added, "I like the title. Has a nice ring to it."

"O' course it does, love." Jack smirked. I could just see the wheels in his head turning out a mantra of, "I'm gonna get meself laid, gonna get meself laid, I'm the best 'cause I'm gonna get meself laid." Well excuse me if I wanted to make it absolutely clear to him that that was not going to be happening anytime soon. Stopping, I turned slowly to him as if in a trance. I do think he even leaned in a little, and then…I pushed him into one of the pools of murky underground water behind him. He never saw it coming. He fell in with a yelp and a resounding splash that echoed throughout the caves.

I quickly stuffed my arm behind my back, whistling innocently when every face turned to behold what had just taken place.

"What? WHAT!" I exclaimed, then hurrying forward up to Barbossa before Jack could come out and kick my ass, as he resurfaced, sputtering.

"Wha' was tha'?" Barbossa asked.

I shrugged my shoulders, "He tripped…on his ego."

Barbossa looked at me for another split second of silence and then he threw his head back and roared with laughter.

"Aye lass! Tha's 'ow a pirates mind works! Underhanded an' schemin'. Come now, gel an' tell me wha' other little mischiefs 'ave ye been bestowin' upon Sparrow!" He laughed again, placing an arm around my shoulders, walking me out of the caves.

Hey, I could go with the flow.

'How much time ya got?"

"So…ye plan ta leave me on some beach, watching you sail away with MY ship," Barbossa's laughed coarsely in incredulous disbelief and amusement, as he sat back comfortably in his chair in the middle of the Captain's Cabin, "with nothing but a name, and YER word it's the one I need?"

"No…!" Jack stated, shocked at such a ridiculous idea, "I plan ta leave ye on some beach with no name a'tall, watching me sail away with MY ship, an' then I'll shout the name back to ye, savvy?" He explained leaning over the table between them, the very image of a negotiation gone wrong.

"Sounds like a good plan to me." I commented, with my boots on the table, leaning back just as comfortably as Barbossa. I still didn't know why I was here. But hey, I wasn't complaining.

"But tha' still leaves me on some beach with naught but a name an' yer word…it's the one I need." Barbossa argued on a grim hissing of the vowels.

"Well," Jack began good naturedly, leafing through the bowl of red and green apples before him on the table, trying to find the most appealing one, "O' the two of us…"

"Three." I piped up.

Jack sighed in annoyance, "Aye, aye, o' the three o' us then…I am the only one tha' 'asn't committed mutiny…"

"Saying no to groping is not a mutinous act, Jack."

"Will ye shut up?" An irritated spark leapt into his eyes, "I'm tryin' ta finish me sentence. May I 'ave yer leave ta do so?"

I was sufficiently quelled to say the least, "I sorry I interrupt." I amended with a slight accent.

Jack's gaze sharpened, "Since when did ye become German?"

Goddamn you Vicki, and your Hans Yenssen influences.

Shaking his head in utter confusion he turned back to Barbossa to finish his little speech, "Therefore…"

"…ergo," I murmured, "…visa vi… CONCORDEDLY!"

Jack clenched his jaw in irritation and continued forward, "…my word's the one we'll be trustin'." Jack closed up his argument, sitting back with an apple in each hand. He tossed one to me, " 'Ere ye go, lass. Bite inta tha'. Maybe if yer mouth's occupied with somethin' else, we'll 'ave some peace an' quiet."

I caught the offered apple with an unhappy frown, "I want a green one." I complained. So sue me, I like Granny Smith's.

"Ye'll eat wha' yer given, love." He assured me taking a bite out of his own juicy fruit, though I'll bet anything he was longing for a banana right about now.

I threw the red apple at his head, "Eat me." I snapped.

"Ow! Bloody 'ell, woman. I think I've been hit ova the 'ead enough for one day, savvy?" He barked, rubbing his sore whittle head.

"That would account for it." I muttered.

"Accoun' for wha'?" He asked.

I actually didn't know what I was talking about, I just wanted to insult Jack in any possible way I could. I shrugged my shoulders in a Harry Potter Puppet Pals Dumbledore fashion, "I dunno."

Frown deepening, he turned his attention back to Barbossa who was watching us with interest, a funny sort of knowing malicious glee in his gaze, "But I suppose I should be thankin' ye, mate. Because if ye 'adn't mutinied an' left me on tha' island ta die, I would 'ave a share in the curse, the same as ye." Jack took another bite of the apple, relishing it temptingly before Babs, whose face hardened, "Funny 'ole world, ain't it?" Jack asked rhetorically, smirking as he did so, offering the apple to Barbossa who sneered it away.

"Captain!" Came the deep, sharp reply from the ever intimidating Bo'sun. It actually shocked me into dropping the apples I had been juggling at the time, "We're comin' up on the Interceptor!"

The freaky deaky monkey leapt from its wooden perch and scurried across the surface of the table making Jack jump in disgust in his seat. Barbossa rose and offered me his arm, and since the guy had a sword I thought it best that I not piss him off at the moment. Good advice to use around barbers and hairstylists, too. Remember that.

On the way out I threw another red apple at Jack, "And get me a green one this time!"

In a fast movement, too fast for me in any case, Jack had grabbed me back, pulling me away from Barbossa (who of course instantly reached for his pistol, silly paranoid man), "Ye migh' want ta rethink ever doin' tha' again, lass." He warned, softly. And for a second I thought, jeeze I just caused Sparrow to snap, but then from up his sleeve he produced a green apple. I grinned as he handed it to me, "Are we all savvy?"

"You're not the Captain on this here boat, Sparrow…" I said tartly, still smiling, "Sorry, sorry, SHIP, sorry."

I turned, and took Barbossa's arm again, "At least not yet."

"Wha' was that?" Barbossa growled back to me.

"Nice net." I clarified, covering my true words, as I pointed to the net leading up to the Crow's Nest.

Barbossa's eyes narrowed as he spun and stalked toward the helm to look through his spyglass.

We followed him up and as Barbossa extended it to see further into the distance, to catch sight of the quickly retreating Interceptor, Jack sprang in front of him.

"I'm 'avin' a thought 'ere, Barbossa!'

Barbossa lowered the spyglass and eyed him warily.

" 'Ow abou' we run up a flag o' truce, I scurry ova ta the Interceptor an' negotiate the return o' yer medallion, eh? Wha' say ye ta tha'?"

"I'm disinclined to acquiesce to your request?" I offered, shrugging my shoulders unsure.

"Nah, ye see, Jack," Barbossa leered, smiling horrifically, "tha's the attitude tha' lost yeh the Pearl…"

"He didn't lose it," I snapped, "YOU stole it from him."

"Pirate, lass." Barbossa explained with a snarl.

I rolled my eyes, exasperated, "Shut up, yer next!"

"Wha'?"

"Later." I assured him.

He shook his head, choosing instead to ignore me (It's a hard thing ta do…we could USE a ship) which I'll admit was an impressive feat, "People are easy ta search when they're dead!" He slammed shut the periscope, "Lock 'im in the Brig! An' the lass, as well!"

Jack and I both jumped as Bo'sun grabbed us by our shoulders, and guided us down to the bowels of the ship.

"Apparently there's a leak…" Jack commented as we were both pushed roughly into one of the cells with a grunt. Snapping the lock in place, Bo'sun strode away.

Jack and I stared at one another.

Now what?

A sudden rock of the ship threw Sparrow into me, slamming us both against the iron grid walls.

"Apparently," I said, blushing when a grin crept up his face when he refused to move from our position, "you have no sense of personal space."

"Ah, so ye want ta get personal, love, is tha' it?" Jack purred, running a finger across my collar bone.

I gulped dryly, "Umm…you don't, by any chance, have any intention of getting off me, do ya?" I asked, fearfully.

"None." He replied, the grin stretching further still.

Just then another rock of the ship sent him falling to the floor.

"Good!" I bit out, "Because I won't ask you again!"

"I'm not exactly askin' yer permission," He retorted, the grin never slacking, as he rose to his feet with the aid of the wall.

"Oh hell…"