The information on Anamaria's family, well, most of it, I found on POTCWiki. You can check it out if you're interested. I still don't own POTC.

Kate had only been on the Black Pearl a good ten minutes when Will and Elizabeth returned with Anamaria, hauling some sacks and crates of food. "There's one worthwhile thing to mention about Tortuga." Will remarked. "The food is highly indelible."

"But what you must go through to get to it." Elizabeth sighed. "That's the part that I find unpleasant."

"We've enough grub to last a week at least now." Anamaria sighed with relief.

"Here, I can take that." Kate offered, picking up the loaded crate of bread. Anamaria sat down on a coiled, heavy rope. Elizabeth took a box nearby.

"Shouldn't we put the supplies away?" Will suggested.

"Nay!" Anamaria declared. "Leave 'em. It'll do those drunken a lot of good to do some real, hard work in the morning, after the glitter of partying has worn off."

"Do you actually believe you'll get away with it?" Kate asked in surprise. Anamaria crossed her arms.

"How do you think I've managed to keep order on the Pearl as long as I have?" She huffed. "Let the men have their stupid fun. Yes. They'll pay for it later. No work? Then no grub. No work? No bunk to conk off on, but the hard floor. No work? No rum!"

"I think it's a fine tumbler of regulations." Elizabeth approved. "Make them earn their keep."

"With one big exception." Will rolled his eyes.

"Jack? And what makes you think he gets out of it? Hmm?" Anamaria gloated. "Because he calls himself captain? Ha! Guess again, landlubber! He knows who keeps this ship running smoothly."

"Apparently, he'll do anything for a bit of rum." Elizabeth sighed.

"Speaking of which, Kate, I noticed you're back before us. How did everything go?" Will asked .

"Not without a few bumps along the way." Kate shrugged.

"I knew it!" Elizabeth pursed her lips.

"But, Jack did bring me back before any real harm could be done. And we did find out that Briggs, the foreman on the Cartwheel is surely alive! And Jack says, that means my father is alive too!"

"Really?" Elizabeth's face softened.

"Can he be sure?" Will added.

"He sounded quite sure to me!" Kate smiled. "If only we didn't have to wait till morning to set sail."

"Best not complain, girl. Typical when we journey to Tortuga. Whining over it won't change it." Anamaria said. Kate frowned but nodded.

"I, uh...I lost my weapons. They were stolen in a tussle." She hung her head.

"You mean like this one?" Will smiled and walked over to her, handing over her lost dagger.

"Will! Where, how..."

"I thought that dagger looked rather familiar." Will grinned. "And it still has some good years of service left in it. Seemed ashamed to just throw it away."

"Spoken like the craftsman that he is." Elizabeth said fondly. Fashioning weapons was Will's specialty, and he a keen eye for fine workmanship when he saw it.

"Thanks, Will. I really appreciate it." Kate said.

The crew didn't return to the ship till passed midnight, and at dawn, Anamaria loudly aroused them to get off their sorry backsides and get to work, while she managed the rudder as they prepared to sail. The men were groaning and testy from their merciless hangovers. Anamaria told them it served them right and do as she asked if they wanted their meals that day. Jack remained in his quarters for most of the morning, snoring away.

Jack would've suffered a major headache too, if he'd not slept it off so well. His head did ache a bit, but he was in better shape than the crew. After all, he had a ship to master. The bright sun did blind him a little though at first, so he tilted his hat down further over his eyelids. "Mornin', Anamaria." He said quietly as he found his way to the wheel.

"You're daft, Jack! It's passed lunch!" Anamaria scolded him.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" Jack grumbled.

"Oh, right. As if that would do any good, 'cept you yackin' at me like a cat in water for interruptin' yur precious beauty sleep!" Anamaria retorted. "Captain Sparrow!"

"Not now, luv, please?" Jack whined. "Me head's a bit achy this morning."

"Serves you right." Anamaria smirked. "I'll not have you manning the ship in your ditsy condition." As if to emphatically illustrate her point, she gave the wheel a hard turn. Jack sidled up close to her ear.

"Anamaria...sweetness..." He whispered. She bit her lip hard to not fall for his game. "You happen to know just where I might be able to find a 'tonic' to soothe my temporal sorrows?" Anamaria loudly cleared her throat. Jack Sparrow never took any kind of tonic, not even if he was very sick. "Just need some rum. That will take care of it." That's what he always said. Anamaria turned her head slowly and glared at him, with a hint of a playful smile.

"Under your pillow, you dunce." She whispered back. Jack grinned widely.

"Always count on you, luv." He said with satisfaction. Anamaria shook her head as he happily tromped away.

"That man causes enough trouble for three children!" She told herself.

Elizabeth and Will were discussing wedding plans, while Kate had taken over some of Anamaria's chores, by the female sailor's request as she had no intention of a half-drunken captain steer at the helm. Kate sat down on the steps below the helm, taking a break, while the men groaned and complained about how the 'feisty wench's makin' us work like dogs!'Jack had a new bottle of rum and was quite content. Kate was humming softly as she held her open diary in her lap and gazed off into the horizon with a wistful look. Jack heard as he passed by and turned his head curiously. "What's that?" He asked.

"Hmm? What's what?" Kate asked, without looking at him, lost in her daydream.

"That sweet little tune you were making up just now."

"Oh. I didn't make it up. I was just thinking about it."

"Wouldn't happen to be a song about pirates, now would it?" Jack asked with a smirk.

"Oh, no. Just a song my mother taught me years ago. She sang it a lot when she thought of Father. I've been thinking about him a lot today. I suppose it started to bring back memories."

"Oh." Jack grunted. "Whatcha scribblin' in there?"

"Nothing for you to see!" Kate gasped, clutching her diary to herself.

"Let's see it."

"No!" Kate told him firmly. She rose to her feet and scampered away from him. Jack shrugged and took another swig, pulling out his compass. Gibbs came up behind him.

"So, Jack, which exactly are heading to first: Bermuda or England?" He asked. Jack didn't answer, but watched the compass intently. The needle pointed just a notch below true North.

"Jack?"

"England." Jack grunted.

"But why not just sail for Bermuda, rescue Summers, then make a run for it?"

"That wouldn't do." Jack faced him. "We must go to England first! We have some respects to pay to an old friend."

"What old friend? Oh, right! You mean that scalawag Briggs fellow."

"Aye. It'll give me great pleasure to see the sour look on his measly face when I show up again!" Jack smiled mischeviously.

Kate was on the other side of the helm, sitting in a corner on a barrel. She stopped her writing, and glanced down at the necklace her father had given her. She held it up where she could see it clearly. Materially, it wasn't worth much, but to her it was priceless, one of the only physical connections she had to Captain Summers. Her mother's song was fluttering around in her head and she began to sing quietly, without realizing it.

Kate ran her thin fingers over the small, smooth white shell. Her mother had hardly ever spoken ill of her husband, but only kept telling her daughter what a brave, fine man he was. Did she not know what truly happened? Did she believe that he'd left her, left us?! If she did...oh, how did she manage to hide any resentment or hurt feelings around me about him? All those painful questions, and she never found out why! Oh, Mother. I made a promise to you, and I intend to keep it!

Kate stood up and stroking the railing, gazed out at sea. She recalled all too vividly how her mother, Mary, would always well up in tears when she sang that particular verse. It described her longing for her husband so well.

"Nice melody, that one." Anamaria interrupted. Kate looked back at her.

"Oh." She grinned.

"Your momma's song?"

"Mmm-hmm." Kate nodded. "It was one of the only things that brought comfort to her, when she felt troubled about Father and what might have happened to him. That and remembering the Holy Scriptures of course."

"That's nice."

"She died when I was 11-years-old." Kate hung her head.

"That's tough. Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"No. It was only me." Kate shook her head. Jack was down the stairs but his ears perked up when he heard that part of the conversation.

So...she doesn't know...all this time...He thought to himself guiltily. He should probably be the one to break the news to her, but how would she take it? Most likely slap him around and hate him from now on. Jack's face grew hot. That 'little detail or two' that he'd failed to tell her, his conscience told him that it wasn't his place to withhold any information from her on what he knew about her family. But, as usual, Jack brushed it aside.

"How'd you make do?" Anamaria asked.

"Well, my mother worked as a seamstress in Port Royal." Kate replied. "She was a very good one too! Through her business connections, I got to know Governor Swann, Miss Elizabeth's father, and her. When Mother died, they didn't want me to be alone, so they offered for me to live with them, working as Miss Elizabeth's lady in waiting. I'm glad for it. They've been more than fair, and Miss Swann is more than my mistress. She's my friend. What about you?"

"Well, missy, I am number five of four other sisters." Anamaria declared.

"Four sisters?!" Kate sputtered. "I can't imagine!"

"Sometimes neither can I." Anamaria agreed. "We had us a family business, Momma and us. We called ourselves the 'Stingrays'."

"Stingrays? What line of business were you into?" Kate laughed, with curiosity.

"Smugglin'." Anamaria said simply, as if it was the most common career in the world.

"Smuggling? That was your family business?"

"Life can get rough, girl. You get by how you can." Anamaria frowned. Kate pursed her lips.

"Is your mother still alive?"

"She oughtta be. My sisters are probably blamin' me for puttin' 'em outta business. But that wasn't my fault!"

"What changed it?"

"Jack Sparrow." Anamaria narrowed her eyes and glanced around, as if scanning the deck for the eccentric rascal. "Stole my boat, he did! And didn't bother to return it! The sneak thief. Oh, but I gave him what for! He won't be a-crossin' hairs with me again!"

"Oh." Kate chuckled. "Did you have a favorite song you girls enjoyed singing?"

"Us girls made up our own song, 'bout bein' rich an pretty, and no one could take it away from us. Momma's favorite was always When the Saints Go Marchin' In. We thought it was silly, singin' about religion while we was smuggling stuff. Momma always said it was for a good cause."

Kate chuckled. Just then, she noticed Elizabeth coming up the stairs. "One of my favorite songs has always been about pirates!" She announced without reservation. "Everyone else has always frowned on it, but that didn't stop me from singing or liking it."

"Will said that you've always had a streak for thinking 'outside the line'." Kate teased.

"Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me..." Elizabeth began to sing.

"Jack says you taught him that song. He sings it all the time." Anamaria sighed. "When he's dead drunk is the worst!"

"Has he managed to teach it to the whole crew yet?" Elizabeth asked curiously.

"Mmm-hmm. Of course, they don't all get it right, 'cept for that nice Mr. Gibbs. He the only level-headed one under Captain Jack, besides me. You can usually find Jack singing a line or two, or whistling. Now that gets under my skin like a band of bed bugs!" Elizabeth and Kate laughed.

"My mother didn't approve of my fascination with pirates any more than my father did." Elizabeth sighed. "She'd catch me singing about them, and beg me to sing something more ladylike. She died shortly after we embarked for Jamaica as we departed from England. She took sick barely a week into our voyage, and passed away two days later. It was awful, especially for Father. I suppose that's why he's been so overly doting all these years."

"You can't blame him." Kate said sympathetically.

"No, I can't." Elizabeth nodded. "He's only ever wanted the best for me, and he promised to look after me when Mother died. It is understandable that he doesn't feel at ease when I'm out of his sight, especially out on the ocean."

"With your notorious habit of running away and doing what you want to do because you want it, luv, your father really should appoint Mr. Turner as your personal chaperon. And what a discomforting thought that is!" Jack teased dramatically as he suddenly appeared. Elizabeth's face went red.

"Jack Sparrow!" She fumed.

"It's Captain Jack Sparrow..." Jack reminded her.

"Whatever." Elizabeth gulped. "Just how much of that did you hear?!"

"More than enough!"Jack cringed. Kate giggled at the horrified look on his face.

"Don't you have something better to do than spying on people?" Anamaria scolded him.

"It is not spying when a captain inspects his own ship for stowaways and unfriendly cargo."

"Well, there be nothing of the sort up here. So you just go on with ye. Shoo!" Anamaria commanded.

"A captain's place is at the wheel."

"If the said dimwitted captain would keep a level head and not drown himself with liquor, he wouldn't need someone else to steer in his place!" Anamaria declared with a note of finality. Jack pouted and clutched his precious bottle to himself. He didn't dare look at Elizabeth, he knew he'd find no sympathy there.

"A good man's gotta relax once in a while." He offered feebly.

"He'll pay for it later." Elizabeth told him. Kate bit her lip sheepishly. Jack puffed out his lips.

"Well, I can see I will get no polite company up here!" He huffed playfully, crossing his arms. "I'm going below deck, where I can engage in civilized conversation."

"You do that." Kate said casually.

"Humph." Jack turned up his nose and nearly stumbled down the stairs from the helm. Elizabeth snickered. Kate descended from the helm back onto the deck, gazing at the endless blue horizon. She glanced down at her diary and flipped a couple pages to a rough sketch she kept of her mother. She lovingly caressed the canvas drawn features and tears filled her eyes.