Hey, everyone.

Yeah, I'm back. Although I'm not entirely sure how much I'm back. I'm going to University now, writing for the school paper and doing comics for that as well. My time's going to be pretty stretched. Still, I love writing fanfiction, and I think it's about time I got back in the saddle, so to speak. Thank you for all the support, by the way. It's great to know that you guys actually care about this, and your great reviews were one of the things that helped me get through this shitstorm that has been life. Although I can't say things have really settled, things are looking up. Thank you all, once again.

On a totally unrelated note, I'm looking for an artist to collaborate on a manga I've been writing. I intent to send it to a publisher eventually, so someone of professional-level skill is preffered. And just so you know... it's five volumes long, and there's really no end in sight. So if you're interested, be prepared for a long haul. If you or someone you know is interested, give me a shout at ks!

With all the love in the world, Jiia

"Well, well, well, lookie here!" The gangrenous old pirate leered viciously, leaning over the railing of the schooner to observe the grim expressions of those aboard the tiny skiff. "If it ain't Cap'n Sam's old crew? Where is the codger, anyways? Still sleepin', I 'spose."

The captain laughed, a harsh, grating sound that was just about as pleasant as rocks being smashed together.

"Yeah, he is." Sully glared at him from his customary post at the helm. "With Davy Jones, that is. The blighter's dead."

The other man paused, for one brief moment, as if in sombre contemplation of the news. Then, his leathered face crinkled into a vindictive grin.

"Well, I can't say he didn't deserve it. So, I'm guessin' yer in need of a new cap'n, eh? An' it just so happens that I'm in possession of a officer in need of a promotion. So ain't this just our lucky day?"

Sully smirked. This seemed to irk the other captain, so the mate let out a little amused laugh. The man began to turn an ugly shade of red. He was obviously not used to being laughed at by people in imminent danger of being killed by him.

"Sorry, Cap'n, but we've already got ourselves a new boss."

"Oh, really?" The man sneered. "And who might that be?"

Sully just smiled and pointed up. The captain's eyes followed the line of the rigging, all the way up the mast, until they were almost even with the rail of the galleon itself. And there, standing upon the cross beam like the figurehead of some backwards ship from hell, was a little boy with a tricorn hat and beads braided into his hair.

"Captain Jack Sparrow, mate. An' don't you ever forget it."

The captain's name was Wilson. Or perhaps Willis. Jack wasn't entirely sure, but that was alright. He would have deliberately gotten it wrong anyways, just to annoy him.

And oh, was the captain fun to annoy. If only he had made it a little harder. The only thing Jack had to do to get him all riled up was exist, and that didn't take any effort at all.

"What do you MEAN, he's your captain?! He's a child, for goodness' sake!!" The captain roared into Bootstrap's overly patient face. "He should be swabbin' decks an' runnin' errands, not SAILIN' A SHIP!! Have you all gone bloomin' mad?!"

Bootstrap pursed his lips and slowly, slowly brought his hand up to his face, wiping the captain's spittle off his cheek with his sleeve.

"Yes…" He said, with the same irritated tolerance he had been using the entire time. "Captain Sparrow is young. But he is not stupid, which is more than I can say for some."

Sully laughed quietly, sending Jack a conspiratorial wink from behind Willis' back.

"Yes." Jack tapped his fingers against the desk impatiently. "And I am also in the room. I would much prefer you talkin' to me instead of my crew, savvy?"

Willis glared at him. The man's first mate, a tall, gangly man in his late twenties, offered a secret smile, which Jack happily ignored.

"Listen here, ye lil' brat." Willis thrust his bony finger in Jack's face, making the boy go cross-eyed. "If we were on my ship, I'd have ye drawn an' quartered."

"Well then, it's a good thing we aren't on you ship, now isn't it?" Jack beamed up at him, and without any more warning whatsoever, lunged forward and took a bite out of the captain's accusatory finger.

He felt the man's hand torn away from him, leaving a rather satisfying chunk of flesh behind, and then experienced the queer sensation of being hit with a fist with a piece missing. He was strong for his age, but not strong enough to resist the force of an adult fist impacting his jaw, and he found himself spiralling onto the floor.

With a disgusted gag, he spat the piece of finger out onto the worn wood, and was sad to see one of his teeth go with it. He gave a sigh and pulled himself to his feet, wiping the blood from his little lips like some underage vampire just returning from a feast.

Bill had the situation under control, of course. He had Wilson's arm twisted so far behind his back there was no way it wasn't broken. Sully was doing his part, keeping a pistol trained lazily in the general direction of the first mate. Who, strangely enough, didn't appear too concerned with this sudden turn of events, other than the pistol-trained-at-him part, of course.

Jack strolled up to stand before the restrained captain. Bill pressed him down and forward, forcing him to bend down to eye level so his little Captain wouldn't have to look up. Wilson whimpered, and Jack shot his friend a sly smile over the injured man's shoulder.

"Here's how this is going to work." Jack looked the captain straight in his blood-shot eyes. "I am going to take your ship, and you are going to let me."

"And why would I do that?" Wilson hissed, baring his crooked teeth in an almost animalistic snarl.

"Because, if you don't…" Jack smirked, revealing the black, bloody cavity where his tooth used to be. "I'll let him kill you."

Bill's eyes went very, very wide, and then very, very narrow, and then twisted the man's arm so hard he'd probably never use it again.

Needless to say, what's-his-name got the point.