Katherine woke up early the next morning, to the familiar sound of brash seagull squawks. She stretched out in the unnaturally large bed she was in. "Mmmmph." Katherine huddled into a ball again, gathering the covers to herself and trying to regain the comfortable position she was in when the seagulls rattled her out of her dreams. It was a rather pleasant dream too, she remembered little wisps of it, but the rest escaped her. She screwed her eyes determinedly shut and buried her face into her pillow, breathed in deeply and tried to settle herself back into some sort of sleep.

"Aaaaaarrgh," Why did she have to breathe? Why? Katherine had managed to put her own stamp on the pillow by covering it with her red dress, but there was no doubting who had slept here the past five years. All thought of gaining further sleep vanishing, Katherine beat her fist against the pillow a few times and sat up. She felt very grumpy, and not a little embarrassed, now that Jack Sparrow knew her whole bloody sob story. She groaned to herself again. "Bloody… night time… with its… bloody…" she wasn't quite sure how to blame the night for her predicament, and so her words petered out to an inaudible grumbling again as Katherine swung her legs over the bed and slipped her feet into her red shoes from the night before and adjusted her shift for any wrinkles that might be lingering. Yes. Adjusting a linen shift for wrinkles after sleeping in it, Katherine thought. Definitely an achievable task. But somehow, it seemed more palatable than going out there, out on deck, where heaven knows what could be wandering around. Yech.

But all too soon, the non-existent task of twiddling with her dress was over with. Katherine looked around the cabin once more, desperate for something to do, for something to keep her body and mind busy.

The whole place was a dump. The right corner of Katherine's mouth twitched, then slyly rose. She pushed up the sleeves of her dress, one after the other, and started by making the bed, pulling her red dress off the pillow and heading for the magnificent wooden wardrobe standing on one side of the cabin to fold it back up, nicely.

Draping the elegant dress over one arm, Katherine had to use all of her strength to push open the heavy door of the wardrobe. A couple of rum bottles came clattering out, and she stepped back to avoid a collision, rolling her eyes. The wooden shelves inside the wardrobe were just as much of a mess as everything as the room outside of it, clothes were haphazardly crumpled, but just on the left side, where the shelves were more narrowly spaced. On the right side, the shelves were put more widely apart, just high enough for a rum bottle to stand straight up with a couple of inches above it. Four shelves stood on the right side, most of them taken up with rum. Most of them were empty. The left had all kinds of clothing and accessories, spread out among its eight shelves.

Right.

Katherine swept out all the empty rum bottles, first. They fell to the floor with a clang, and she opened the door to the cabin, tossing them out by handfuls. She heard some muffled shouting coming from the deck, but ignored it. As soon as the room was rid of them, she promptly shut the door, heading straight back for the wardrobe.

Folding all the clothing as quickly as she could was a difficult task, as Katherine didn't want to, well, touch it too much. They fit neatly on five of the eight shelves once they were all tidy. Lovingly, Katherine folded her red dress, her last reminder of Port Royal, and placed it lightly in a ladies' dress box she had found. She didn't really want to know where it came from. It fit perfectly on the right side, taking up half of one shelf.

There, the wardrobe was done. Katherine raised her arm to her forehead, and wiped a bit of sweat from her brow. She knelt back on her legs, piling her hair on her head and holding it there with one hand, fanning herself with the other.

"Workin' hard?"

Katherine's hand stopped mid-fan, and she turned her head over her shoulder to see Jack standing in the open doorway, leaning against the frame. Had she really forgotten to lock it back up? Damn.

He was wearing an amused expression as he swayed into the cabin, sitting on the bed. "So this is wha' the counterpane looks like…" He said, taking a bit of it up in his hands and fingering it. "Looks nice. Must've filched it from somewhere."

Katherine let out a little snort of disgust.

At the sound, Jack leaned forward. His hands suddenly stopped fidgeting as they clasped each other between his knees. "Look. Erm. I just wan' te le' ye know. Tha'." He paused. Coughed. Scratched his forehead. Katherine waited. "I think ye. Are. Really brave. And. Soft." Jack's eyes widened. Did he really say that? Good God. Jack tilted his head so he was looking down at the floor. Just breathe, man. You're behaving like a doe-eyed teenager. Breathe. He heard himself take a deep gasp of air in.

Slowly, Jack brought his head up so he could see Katherine. She was turned away again, facing the wardrobe.

SOFT? What kind of compliment is that, Jack Sparrow, ladies' man? Huh? Jack thought to himself. SOFT?!?! She's going to stand up, run, and jump in the ocean screaming. You idiot. You… you…

"Um…" Katherine began.

Bugger. Bugger. Bugger. Bugger. Bugger. Why can't you learn to just keep your big, fat, mouth, just…

"Thank… you…?"

…Open?

"Right. Yer… yer welcome," Jack nodded, and stood up to go.

"Jack?"

"Yah?" He stopped midstep, whirling around.

"No, I really meant it," Katherine stood up. She one arm across her chest, supporting the other elbow with her hand. She was leaning her head in her hand, her face was screwed up like she was really regretting this. She brought her hand down, than looked up at the ceiling. After a moment of silence, her right foot met the floor with a stomp. "Damnit."

"Wha'?"

"I'm not supposed to like a PIRATE."

ooooooo

It had been a hectic night for Commodore James Norrington. He had raced down to the docks with Lieutenant Gilette, determined to reach them before The Black Pearl set sail.

Of course, Jack Sparrow had to know better. He always did. By the time James had arrived, breathless, at The Pearl's port, it had been ready to set sail.

James brought his fist down on his heavy wood table, in his study overlooking the ocean. His white wig sat a few inches beside it, most of the hairs now out of place. He had roughly pulled it off his head when he entered his study, throwing it in a vague direction.

This wasn't fair. Not fair at all. Katherine Winston had lived in HIS city for all these years, and Jack Sparrow just comes out of nowhere, out of thin air, like he always does, and sweeps her away. Although, she wasn't being "swept" very well, James thought as he remembered some colorful shrieking just as the ship had pulled out of sight. In fact, he thought he had seen a figure go down, and he was pretty sure it hadn't been Katherine.

James Norrington grinned to himself.

Now, how could he use this to his advantage? He knew Jack was out there, somewhere very close. If he could get the infamous "Captain" Jack Sparrow now, on this, his life would be complete.

Norrington knew that the general public of Port Royal rarely got excited. Two things were certain to get them so, however. A hanging, and a marriage of an officer in a high position. It looked as if he was in the position to give them both.

James' lips once again curled upward.

Perfect.