"And what makes you think you're worthy to crew the Black Pearl?" the grizzled man demanded.

"I think you'd find me useful."

"You think we need toothpicks?" the younger Captain Teague look alike asked.

Ashlyn smiled at him.

"Even toothpicks are sharp, and handy," she replied, "Good for getting rid of annoyances stuck between the teeth."

"Lad, have you ever crewed a ship before, worked with lines and such?" the older one asked.

"Not really. But I'm a fast learner. And in the meantime I can do other things."

"Can you cook?"

"I can."

The two men exchanged looks, then the younger man shrugged.

"Very well, lad. Make your mark."

Ashlyn signed the paper before her, leaving off the last half of her name. Now, she would be known as Ash.

"I'm First Mate, Mr. Gibbs. Our Captain, of course, is Captain Jack Sparrow," he said, waving at the man beside him, "We leave tomorrow morning. Feel free to go aboard tonight and inspect our supplies. If you think we need more of something, or additional items, give us a list so we can pick it up before we set sail."

He slid a key across to her, and Ash took it with a nod.

"And you?" Gibbs asked, looking at Jahir.

"Oh, I forgot to mention. We're kind of a package deal," Ash said.

The Captain shrugged.

"Welcome aboard, lads."

Ash and Jahir left quickly and made their way down to the docks, where they easily found the black ship with black sails. It took her a while to find the supplies, which were below the crew's quarters, and was locked. She let herself and Jahir in, and surveyed the supplies. This was it? What was she supposed to do with this? Shaking her head, she exited, locked the supply room, and returned to the house for her last night in it.

Jahir slept while she stayed up, writing a list of things she would need. Most of it was herbs, but she also asked for heaps of rice, potatoes, beans, onions, dried meats, fruits, and vegetables. The last wouldn't keep for long, but she'd see to it that the crew got what nutrients they could. Finally, she could sleep. It was strange to think this was the last time she would see this place, and for a while, she stared at the ceiling. It seemed she was only asleep for a few moments before Jahir was shaking her awake. Groaning, Ash got up and went to deliver the list to Mr. Gibbs.

"Don't ask for much, do you?" he asked.

"Believe me, you lot will eat better if I get what I want."

"Rest assured, I'll see to it you get it."

"Thank you. I've taken a look in the kitchen –"

"Galley."

"Uh. Yeah. And I was wondering if I could sleep in the little room in the back?"

"I don't see why not."

Ash thanked him, and went to find something she saw she lacked in the crew's quarters. A bed. They all had hammocks, she needed something of the sort unless she wanted to sleep on the ground. She bought one and a gray wool blanket with a soft pillow, looked around the house for the final time, and left for the ship.

"You're going to allow me my privacy," Ash told Jahir firmly, "Sleep with the rest of the crew. You don't need to watch over me every second of the day and night."

"Aye aye, captain my captain. But I an' I keep you out of trouble during da day."

Ash smiled, shaking her head.

"You might not want to call me 'captain' around the actual captain. I don't think he'll take well to it."

"He is puny. I an' I could squash 'im like a bug."

Ash snorted gently in amusement. Sparrow was indeed puny compared to Jahir, but she was tiny compared to Sparrow. She wondered what she looked like in comparison to Jahir. No wonder people stared when they walked by. They couldn't be more opposite in appearance, as well as size. It must be hilarious. She noticed that now that it was a little later in the day, people were going back and forth from the ship to land.

She boarded and went to the galley, where she sat up her hammock in the small room behind the galley, and Jahir vanished no doubt to do the same in the crew's quarters. After that was done, she gave both her room and the galley a thorough scrubbing. The actual cooking area was separate from a bunch of tables the crew would eat at, but she gave that area a good cleaning as well.

After that was done, she went up on deck to watch the ship get underway. Sparrow was at the helm, shouting orders. She sat on the steps leading from the main deck to the upper deck where he was, watching mostly him. From what she could tell, he was competent, strong, and confident. At last, she tore her gaze from him and watched the crew scurry around. She was interested to see there was a lot of variety. They ranged in height, weight, skin color, country of origin, and age. It seemed the only thing everyone besides her had in common was their gender.

"What's got you so lost in thought, lad?" a deep, rough voice said suddenly.

Ash blinked, looked up – way up – and saw Sparrow standing a few steps above her. She got up and got to one side of the stairs, in case he was wanting to pass her.

"I was just reflecting on the diversity of the crew," she said honestly, "It's surprising."

"We don't discriminate on the sea, lad. As long as you can do the job you're hired for, no one cares about anything else. We've got more important things to worry about, savvy?"

"Aye, captain," she replied.

She hadn't thought about it like that before, but that made sense. And she was realizing she had only encountered prejudice on land, not that she'd ever spent much time at sea. But so far, every pirate she'd met had been unique, and most were pleasant.

"Speaking of being able to do jobs, I'd better get to mine. Dinner for this many is a big thing, but I think you'll be pleased."

"Bring mine to my quarters, aye?"

"Aye."

"That's 'aye aye'," he told her.

"Um..."

"I can see you're confused. 'Aye' means yes. But 'aye aye' means more than that. It means 'I understand and I will comply'. Savvy?"

"Savvy. Thank you, captain."

Ash went below to the galley, where she stayed until dinner, when she started to dish out servings to the men that started to trickle in. As she worked, she listened to the gossip the men were telling each other. Most of it went in one ear and out the other. At last everyone was fed, and after Ash set aside a portion for herself, she took up a tray to the captain's quarters. Balancing the tray on one hand, she knocked with the other. Once she heard Sparrow's voice calling for her to enter, she did so, shutting the door behind her with a foot.

"How'd you get into this life, lad?" Sparrow asked, "You're no pirate."

Ash froze in the act of setting the tray down on his desk, which he was seated behind.

"Um. It's a bit of a story," she said slowly.

"Haven't you heard? Sailors love stories."

"A story I'm not comfortable telling," she said pointedly.

"Come on, lad. Tell it. No judgment here, remember?"

"Alright. I'll tell you. As soon as you tell me yours."

"Not only is mine a long story, but it's more like several all together. You first."

"I'd rather not."

"Are you refusing an order from your captain?"

Ash stared at him. His expression, for once, held no trace of humor or amusement in it. But neither did it have any other discernible emotion. He was completely blank, flat, void of any telltale signs to give away his mood.

"Is it truly so important to you?" Ash asked, nearly inaudible.

Sparrow stared at her for another few seconds, and whatever he saw in her face made him sit back and shake his head.

"No, lad. You can go."

Ash had never been so relieved to leave a room in her life. She ate her own food mechanically, cleaned up after everyone had left, and went straight to sleep, tossing and turning in her hammock for what seemed like hours. Finally, sleep came. When she woke, she realized she was savagely biting her pillow, mistaking it for a hand that had been reaching towards her in her dreams. She released it, blushing, glad that she slept alone. What else might she do or say in her sleep?

There were no windows in the galley, so she'd have to go up on deck to see what time it was. Groaning, she tumbled out of the hammock, putting on her special breast flattening corset, a shirt, pants, and boots. She was rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she walked towards the main deck, but before she reached it, she ran into someone. Ash jumped back, startled, and let out a shout.

"Ahhhh! Captain! What are you doing here?!"

He gave her a curious look.

"This is my ship, lad."

"Err... right. Sorry. I didn't mean... um, can I help you?"

Her heart was pounding. Had he been coming to see her? That would have been a disaster. Perhaps it was time to stop sleeping naked.

"I'm hungry," he said simply, "Make me food."

Ash exhaled shakily. He had been coming to see her. She ran a hand down her face as she struggled to regain her composure.

"Aye, aye, captain," she said faintly, changing directions.

Instead of returning the way he came, he followed her, watching as she set things up.

"I'm sorry for being late," she said, "It won't happen again."

"You're not late," he told her, "I'm just up earlier than everyone else."

"Oh. What time is it?"

"The sun is coming up."

Ash nodded as she pulled out ingredients and lit the fires. Was this going to become a regular thing with them? She hoped not.

"You're an odd little thing," he commented idly, sitting on one of the tables.

She could feel his stare burning into the back of her head. Finding no need to respond to that, she stayed silent and concentrated on her work.

"Are you always so skittish?" he asked.

Blast. A question. She had to answer that.

"No."

"Ah. I scared you, then?"

"No. Bad dream," she said shortly.

"Want to talk about it?"

His tone was so causal. Too casual. Slamming her knife down, she looked over her shoulder at him and gave him her most furious glare.

He put his hands up to shoulder height, grinning slyly.

"Had to try."

Arching one eyebrow, Ash picked up her knife, twirling it with her fingers without looking, then turned back to her work. He sat silently while she cooked, swinging his feet a bit.

"Eating in here this time, captain?"

"Aye, why not?"

Ash was finishing up. Most of the food would sit there until the crew got up, for now, she took only two portions and sat one near Sparrow, keeping the other for herself. He didn't seem eager to leave his perch, so she sat on the counter across from him and tucked in.

"You make some good food lad, I'll give you that," Sparrow said as he ate.

"Thank you, captain."

"Though why do you include rice at every meal?"

"It's both filling and nutritious, and I got used to it in Japan."

"You're not Japanese," he said, "Too blonde."

Ash rolled her eyes. He was right, though. In her adopted country, she always drew looks for her golden hair and bright aqua eyes. She stuck out like a sore thumb there.

"Very astute," she retorted dryly.

"That rifle also gives you away. Aren't the Japanese born with katakana in their hands?"

"No."

Her adoptive father was, but he was one of the Emperor's personal guards. She wondered if he was still alive after what she did. Probably not. Sparrow finished his breakfast and put the empty dish down on the table, hopping down.

"Well, I've a ship to captain."

And she had dishes to clean. He left, and Ash finished washing the dishes they had used when the crew began to come in, sleepy eyed and yawning. She envied the extra sleep they were able to get. For the next hour or so, she stayed to hand out breakfast, and started cleaning up when they turned in their empty dishes. At last, she completed her morning tasks and grabbed her hat before going up on deck. The wide brim prevented the sun from blinding her when she emerged.

For the first time, she realized the reason why some pirates wore eye patches was to prevent blindness when going from a brightly lit area to a darkened one, like above deck to below. The seconds it would take to adjust to the light or lack thereof would be crucial in an emergency, like a battle. She visited the head, a hole with a removable cover at the front of the ship, to perform necessary acts of nature. It was a nerve wracking process in which she glanced around anxiously and tried to hide her private parts as much as possible, frightened of someone noticing she didn't have the same equipment as the rest of them. That harrowing task completed, she got a second to look over the rail.

Ash's eyes widened at the sight that greeted her. The sun shimmered on the waves, and the water was such a deep, rich blue. It was a truly breathtaking sight. Ash sighed, leaning on the rail and gazing into the depths, unaware of the little smile that curled her lips.

"I know that look," a voice said, "You're in love, aren't you lad?"

Ash looked up and saw Mr. Gibbs smiling at her.

"Oh," she said, straightening and trying not to blush, "I think I might be, Mr. Gibbs. I've never seen water so beautiful."

"Only in the Caribbean," he agreed.

"I was actually looking to ask you something, before I got distracted," she admitted sheepishly, "Would you teach me about the ship, how to do what the rest of the crew does? When we both have free time, of course. I am supposed to be learning, after all."

"Perhaps so, but I doubt Jack will let you give up being a cook for a normal crew position, he's that fond of the food. Still, I'll teach you what I can."

He talked her through the three masts of the ship, as well as the names and locations of the sails attached to each, as well as the sails anchored to the bowsprit. He left it at that, giving her time to memorize the information he had given her. Ash went through each mast, front to back, bottom to top, then went back to from, top to bottom. After that, she would point at random sails and mutter their names under her breath. The mizzen mast had only a topsail and mizzen course sails, but the main and fore had a course, topsail, and top-gallant. The bowsprit had a fore stay-sail and and the flying jib.

She was still muttering to herself while she made and served lunch, all through the cleanup, and back up on deck. Finally, realizing she needed a break, she leaned on the rail and stared at the sea, forcing her mind to relax. The sea really was beautiful. It was easy to see why sailors were obsessed with it.

"Can you actually use that rifle?" Sparrow's voice asked.

Ash turned and looked at him, insulted.

"Of course."

"How good are you?"

"Extremely."

"Show me."

She stared at him as he drank from a bottle, draining it, then held it up so she could see. Realizing what he wanted, she reached over her head behind her, brought the rifle up and over her body, off her back, and put the butt to her shoulder in a smooth, practiced motion.

"Do it."

Sparrow threw the bottle as hard as he could high into the air over the rail. Ash got it in sight immediately and pulled the trigger. A loud shot rang out, followed by the sound of breaking glass and the sight of the remains of the bottle falling into the sea.

"That is good. Very good," Sparrow said.

Ash reloaded the rifle, reflecting how glad she was that this particular weapon was a breech-loader and not a muzzle-loader. It wasn't a common design, which made Ash wonder how hard and long Jahir had to look to find this and how much it cost. But she preferred it because it afforded her faster and easier reload.

"Any particular reason you ask about my shooting skills?" she asked as she replaced the rifle in it's familiar position on her back.

"It's advisable to be prepared," Sparrow said mysteriously, "Just wanted to be sure you are."

"If you mean to be prepared for trouble, I always am, captain. And on the rare occasions I'm caught off guard, I adjust quickly."

"Good lad."

Ash watched him walk away. He was strange, there was no doubt of that. But then, he would be so boring if he was normal. She prepared, served, and cleaned up dinner, and then went in search of Mr. Gibbs, telling him she had memorized everything he told her of the sails. He quizzed her to be sure, and then he started her on knots.

She found a piece of rope and fiddled with it while she lay in her hammock, gently swaying with the motion of the ship. That was another thing she learned since coming aboard. She was rather sure footed on a moving ship, much like Sparrow was. Others, however, had problems. Jahir being one of them. She had never noticed the big man having issues before, but he did stumble occasionally, and while he never said anything to her, she noticed he hung near the rails a lot, perhaps in case he had to empty his stomach suddenly into the sea. Eventually, her fingers stopped moving, her eyelids drooped closed, and her body went slack. Sleep seemed to hit her like a battering ram.

Over the next few weeks, Ash settled into a routine and made friends among the crew, not just Jahir. One day, Sparrow wanted her to join him on deck. When she emerged into the sun, she noticed an island off the starboard side.

"Ah, Ash! Come here!" Sparrow called once he spotted her.

Cautiously, Ash stepped over to him, and he slung an arm around her shoulders, gesturing grandly at the island with the other hand.

"So, what do you think?"

"Um... of what, captain?"

"Right! You wouldn't know, no one does really... Well, lad, that is a presidio, a Spanish fort. Inside is a treasure we are going to liberate. What I want to know is, where should we anchor the ship?"

Ash looked at him suspiciously. He was more than capable of making such a decision himself. This was a test.

"Well captain, I'd say the side with the trees gives us a better chance of going unnoticed, and being inconspicuous is probably the best option for us to get in, get what we want, and get out with minimal casualties."

"Agreed."

He swaggered away towards the helm, and she let him go, shaking her head. One day, she would figure him out. But it was not this day. Sensing that a fight would take place, she prepared her weapons and made sure everyone was fed. She wondered what sort of treasure they were going after. She wondered why he hadn't told anyone of what they were about before now, hours before the event.

Mr. Gibbs saw her pensive expression as she sharpened her blades and came over to ask her about it.

"I'm just wondering," she said, "About the captain. He seems... closed off."

"Oh, aye, but with good reason," he said easily.

"What do you mean?"

"He plays things close to the vest now. He was betrayed, once."

Ash listened intently as Mr. Gibbs told her about Captain Barbossa and the curse that took over him and his crew once he left Sparrow on an island to die.

"Oh, come on!" Ash exclaimed suddenly, "Sea turtles? Bullshit!"

"It's true!"

"No it's not," she challenged, "Where did he get the rope?"

"Human hair from his very own back."

Ash snorted and rolled her eyes.

"No one is that hairy," she protested.

"Then how do you explain his escape?"

"How should I know? I wasn't there. My best guess is someone came along and saved him."

Sparrow started calling orders to have the ship anchored, and Mr. Gibbs glared at her.

"We'll continue this later," he told her.

Ash merely smiled at him and waved as he ran off to assist. Sure they would. Even if they did, she wouldn't believe him. She'd heard some ridiculous things in her life, but this was one of the craziest. She stood and checked over her weapons one more time, feeling the ship come to an abrupt stop. For the first time in so long, everything was completely still. It was so calm... the calm before the storm.