Sparrow moved away to join the fight, drawing his sword as he walked, but Ash held back for a few moments, eyes sweeping over the battle raging on deck. Most everyone fought with swords, but that was not her preferred style of fighting. She didn't even have a sword, in the slim chance she was so inclined to fight that way. She liked to be very far away where the enemy couldn't touch her when she killed them, it enhanced the odds of her survival significantly. She loved her rifle, but in order to wield it correctly, she had to have a good vantage point. Here on the upper deck by the helm, she could use her weapon. But eventually the enemy would notice her and move to deal with her, and then she'd be facing a close quarter fight anyway. Her eyes traveled upwards, and found the crow's nest. Yes, that was ideal.

No one looked up when they were looking for something, so when the enemy crew noticed they were being systematically shot down, they probably wouldn't spot her. And then even if they did, the crow's nest wasn't an easy place to reach. Only a couple at a time could climb up, and she could take her time dealing with them if it came to that. But first, she would have to reach it, past the heaving mass of bodies that fought on the main deck. The rope ladder to reach the crow's nest was on the side of the ship on the main deck, stretching from the railing to the sails. Taking a breath, she moved in that direction, down the stairs from the upper deck to the main deck. She ducked and weaved out of the way of dueling men, avoiding attention as much as possible.

She had just reached the rope ladder and was about to get a hand on it when someone seized her by the hair and dragged her back. Ash cried out in pain, a hand automatically grabbing the wrist that held her. Senseless from the agony emanating from her scalp, she lost her footing and fell to her knees, striking the deck hard and yelping like a kicked dog. The hand holding her hair yanked her head back, and Ash's eyes widened as she saw a gleaming knife descending on her, aiming for her exposed throat. She blocked it with her left forearm, but the jeering man that held her paused, frowning curiously.

"Well, a woman," he smirked, "Isn't this a surprise."

Ash gaped at him. How could he tell? No one else on board knew it by looking at her.

"I suppose you're kept around to please the crew, or the captain. No reason why you can't do the same for me," he leered.

Ash's eyes narrowed into slits as a black rage filled her heart. Her right hand released his wrist and went to the top of her boot behind her. It was good she lost her footing and fell to a kneeling position, it would be difficult to get at a blade unnoticed otherwise. Just as he was saying how he enjoyed a woman on her knees and how good her lips would feel around him later, Ash drew the thin knife from her boot and brought it around in front of her, stabbing upwards viciously into the man's groin. He screamed in pain, releasing her hair to grab at himself. Ash howled in fury as she batted away the hand holding the knife, launching her self to her feet, off the deck, and on top of the man, taking him down to the deck and stabbing him repeatedly in the chest. She only stopped when she heard a familiar cry of pain.

She got to her feet as her head turned in the direction of the voice, and saw a stranger with his sword in Sparrow's left shoulder. As she watched, the man withdrew the blade and went to swing it and take her captain's head off. Her arm moved automatically, without her brain having given it any command. She threw the knife in her hand at the enemy, burying it into his neck. He crumpled to the deck, plucking feebly at the hilt, his life already draining away. Sparrow's eyes followed the direction the knife had come from and saw her standing across the deck from him, and he nodded his thanks. Ash nodded in return and scrambled up the rope ladder to the crow's nest, drawing her rifle from her back.

Finally, she went about what she was best at. Her speed was incredible for a sharpshooter, for as her hands worked at reloading, her eyes were searching for a target so she was ready to shoot as soon as she was loaded again. Enemy after enemy fell, leaving the Black Pearl's crew member that had been fighting them looking confused for a moment, before they shrugged and turned to face the next foe. She never missed. Seeing the tide was turned against them, the crew that attacked them attempted to flee back to their ship, but the crew of the Black Pearl wasn't going to let them go so easily.

Luckily, Sparrow called out not to kill them, to both crew's confusion, but he was obeyed none the less. The captives that weren't dead by now were tied up. Ash slowly climbed down to the deck, her rifle once more on her back. The enemies weren't wearing uniforms, or flying any specific colors. They were pirates, then, like them. Why would they attack? It seemed Sparrow had the same line of thinking, because that's what he asked the captives.

"We had our eye on that treasure from the presidio too," one man told him, "But we saw you got there first. So we thought we'd let you do the hard work for us, then follow you and take it."

"And you thought we'd be asleep in the middle of the night," Gunnar spat at them, "You didn't think we'd have sentries on the look out at night?"

"We figured even if you did, you could not get everyone ready in time to repel our attack successfully. We were almost right."

"Well lads, you cannot walk away without some sort of punishment," Sparrow told them, "So we shall board your ship and take what we like. Afterwards, we will place you back on your ship and let you go."

When the captives began to protest, John slapped them on the back of the head.

"Shut up," he told them, "You're lucky we're letting you live. Plenty of us here would like to kill you, just so people won't say we're soft. Be grateful our captain has more restraint."

"Captain my captain!" Jahir called suddenly, "Over here!"

Ash ran over under the crew's curious gazes to Jahir, who crouched beside a bleeding man sprawled on the deck. It was Carver. His shirt was stained with blood, and he seemed to be unconscious.

"Oh no," Gunnar said, who had followed her, "No, no, no. Carver!"

Ash knelt down and put two fingers to his neck, searching, waiting with bated breath. After a few moments, she sighed, relaxing.

"He's alive," she told Gunnar, "But he needs immediate attention."

Gunnar stormed over to the captives, drawing his blade.

"You bastards, I'll kill you!" he seethed.

Sparrow stepped in front of him.

"No," he said calmly.

"But captain – "

"I've given them my word to let them live," Sparrow said, "I'll not go back on that promise."

Gunnar's eyes blazed, and his jaw clenched. Sparrow put a hand to his shoulder and led him off to the side, speaking quietly. Most of the crew went over to the enemy vessel to plunder their ship, while some stayed to deal with the dead men. Ash, still on her bruised knees, tried to ignore what was going on around her in order to help Carver. The shirt was ruined, she cut it away from him and used it to clean up most of the blood, allowing her a clear sight of the injury. He'd been shot in the chest, but luckily it was no where near his heart.

"I need to move him," she said, "Is there a table somewhere I can work on him?"

"The captain's quarters," Mr. Gibbs told her, "We use it as a surgery area sometimes."

Gunnar came over to help carry Carver, and Jahir, Mr. Gibbs, and John also helped. Ash ran ahead of them to the captain's quarters to clear off the large table in the middle of the room. When the men got there, they laid their wounded comrade on it, and Jahir went to get the materials Ash listed off to him.

"Is he going to be okay?" Gunnar fretted, hovering over his friend.

Ash hesitated. She wanted to say yes, she knew how to fix this, but there was no telling what sort of complications she might encounter.

"I don't know," she said at last, "I'll do my best. But if everything goes well... yes, he should come out of this."

"What could go wrong?"

"Internal bleeding, for one," Ash said, "If the bullet went into his body and bounced around in there, which does sometimes happen, there's no telling what sort of damage was done, and I don't have the skill or equipment to open up his body to see and have it fixed. I'll have to just do what I can, and hope for the best."

"What can I do? I want to help him."

"I don't know if you're the religious sort, Gunnar, but you could pray for him, if you like. And stay out of my way."

Jahir returned with the things she needed, and Ash got to work. She prodded at the wound a bit and found the bullet lodged in his chest, a bit deeper into his flesh from the entrance wound. Luckily, it had gone straight and not hit anything inside him to cause a ricochet. She was glad he was sleeping, because this was going to be painful. Carefully, she used a pair of tweezers to draw out the bullet, then swore as blood began to pour out of him.

"What's going on?" Gunnar asked, "What's wrong? Is he okay?"

"Get him out of here," Ash ordered tersely.

"No!" Gunnar shouted, "I'm staying! You little shit, you can't – "

But Jahir grabbed him by the scruff of the next and towed him out. The door closed behind him, and Ash continued her work in silence. She'd forgive his stupidity of insulting the person trying to save his friend's life. The brain didn't always think straight when emotions got in the way, as she knew from personal experience. It took a few tense moments to get the bleeding under control, but once she did, she cleaned and disinfected the wound, then stitched it closed. After that, she put a dressing and a bandage on it. Sparrow had entered the room unnoticed while she had been working, and when she finished with Carver and looked up, she saw him standing there, watching her.

"Good, you're next," she said brusquely, "Sit, captain, shirt off."

He complied, stripping to the waist and then sitting on the chair near his desk. His left shoulder had been run clean through with a blade, and had stopped bleeding by now, she was glad to see. She started to clean and dress the wound.

"What happened?" Ash asked him.

Sparrow grimaced.

"I saw you. That man was about to cut your throat, you were on your knees, defenseless. Or so I thought. While I was distracted, my opponent took his chance. Luckily I saw it at the last second and twisted slightly so he only got my shoulder. He was aiming for my heart."

Ash shook her head.

"You shouldn't let yourself get distracted in battle," she scolded him.

"Usually I don't."

"Then what happened this time?"

"I realized I didn't want you to die."

Ash snorted.

"That's funny. Just last night, you were ready to shoot me."

"I thought... never mind. I was wrong."

Ash lifted her brows, turning her head to get one ear closer to him.

"Sorry? What was that?"

"Aye, I was wrong lad," Sparrow frowned at her, "I wouldn't be sitting here being taunted by my own cook if said cook hadn't saved my life today, savvy?"

"Oh, I savvy," she said, smiling, "I was just making sure you did."

Sparrow rolled his eyes and flapped one hand in a shooing motion.

"Go to, go to, you are a saucy boy."

Ash laughed.

"I've been meaning to talk to you about that, captain," she said, "Never expected you to be a fan of Shakespeare."

"I'm full of surprises, lad."

She continued her work, and for a while neither of them spoke. But Sparrow broke it after a few moments, quietly, as if not wishing to disturb the peaceful atmosphere.

"I'm going to pay you double."

"What? If this is about me saving you, you don't have to – "

"No, it's not that. Doctors are worth their weight in gold on ships, lad. I know you say you're not. But you do better than nothing at all. I was a fool not to have one on the crew before I set sail, and if you didn't have the knowledge you do, I'd be paying for it in a worse way than gold. As for saving my life, that's a personal debt to be repaid later, when I can."

Ash kept silent. If he really wanted to pay her more for something she was doing anyway, she wouldn't argue. She liked money. And she didn't know what to say to the fact that Captain Jack Sparrow owed her. As before, she had just reacted in the heat of combat. She didn't even think about it.

She finished with his wound and realized her stomach was growling. Realizing how long past sunrise it was and guessing everyone else was hungry too, she went below to the galley to make a quick breakfast. After she had distributed the food to the crew, she took three portions up to the captains quarters and gave one to Sparrow, then pulled up a chair and sat to eat her own food. Ash was halfway through her breakfast when Carver woke up. She immediately got up and put her food down on her seat, then went to him.

"Relax, Carver. You're going to be okay," she told him soothingly.

"Really?"

"Really."

Probably, more like it. The bullet hadn't ricocheted in his body, she'd gotten it out easily, stitched it closed, and bandaged it up. The biggest threat now was him ripping the stitches, and infection. She told him to be careful until the stitches were ready to come out, and that she would check it regularly to monitor signs of infection. She helped him sit up and gave him his breakfast.

"Can I see Gunnar now?" he asked, mouth full.

Ash nodded and stepped outside to get him. When Gunnar saw his friend sitting up and eating, he grinned, relieved. Ash stood by and put her back to them, giving them some privacy. To her surprise, Sparrow put a hand on her shoulder, and held out her half finished breakfast with the other hand.

"You're so busy taking care of everyone else, I can't let you neglect yourself," he said.

She tried to conceal her surprise as she took it, nodding her thanks. Her stomach wasn't growling anymore, but she knew she should finish it anyway, and she did. Carver and Gunnar were speaking in soft voices, and they were ignored for the most part. Until they actually requested attention.

"Cap'n?" Carver's voice said.

Ash and Sparrow turned around.

"Aye?"

Carver and Gunnar were holding hands, smiling shyly.

"We were wondering if you would marry us," he said.

Ash's brows shot up, and she stared at them. Wait, what? Were they serious?

"A wedding, I love weddings! Drinks all around!" Sparrow exclaimed.

Ash stared at him next. Had he lost his mind?

"As long as that's activity I can do without ripping my stitches," Carver said, smiling at Ash.

She started to get uncomfortable. They were asking for her permission? What the hell?

"Uh... I guess that would be fine," she said, "Provided you don't plan on any rigorous activities."

"I'll be careful with him," Gunnar vowed.

Ash looked away, feeling her face heat up. She wasn't talking about that. She didn't want to think about it.

"Can we go?" Carver asked, "To tell everyone? And prepare for a party tonight?"

"By all means, get out of my quarters," Sparrow agreed.

They went.

"You okay over there lad? You look like a lobster."

Ash rolled her eyes and glared at him.

"Well, you do. Not happy for them?"

"It... I don't really care what they do. Why should I? I have my own life to worry about."

"You said there's no matelotage where you come from," he said, corking open a bottle and putting his feet up on the table Carver had just vacated.

Shaking her head, pushing aside the shock that there was actually a word for this, she fought to make herself stop blushing.

"I don't care that they're both men," she protested, "How a person makes sex is their own damn business. That's the point. I don't feel so comfortable talking about... that... openly. It's private."

Sparrow's eyes rose, and his eyes shone with amusement.

"'Makes sex'?" he quoted, "What, like it's pottery?"

Ash scowled at him, the heat still on her cheeks. He was making fun of her. Blast him.

"You seem at ease with the concept of two men being intimate with each other," she said slowly, "As if it's familiar. Do you...?"

"Alas, men don't do it for me. I go without until I get to land and find a lovely lass to partner me. Why? Curious?"

"What? No!"

"Wait..."

Sparrow sat up, peering at her intently.

"You wouldn't know, would you lad?"

"Wh – what?"

"You've never had intimate relations before, with anyone, have you lad?"

"As I told you, that's private," she said shortly, "And if we're having a party tonight, I've things to do."

She left him and went to find Gunnar and Carver, asking what they wanted for dinner that night. They talked it over for a few minutes, and she went below deck to see how she could arrange things. She didn't know why Sparrow was constantly prodding her about sex, if she wanted men, if she approved of Carver and Gunnar. Honestly, she didn't know how she felt, but she felt pressured somehow. Was she really required to have an opinion? Because she didn't. She really couldn't care less, it was their business. But it was nice to see them happy. Come to think of it, she had never seen Gunnar smile before now. He had always been so gruff and rugged, but he seemed to be more gentle now, somehow. It was rather touching. Mr. Gibbs caught her looking in their direction more than once that day.

"You okay, lad?"

Why was everyone asking her that today?

"Yes. I'm just surprised. They seem... I don't know. Different. Not because now I know their preferences in bed, but their attitudes. They're happier. It's sweet."

"Aye. They told me they'd been thinking about it for a while, but since the recent battle and with Carver being wounded and all, they didn't want to risk waiting any longer."

"Risk? Risk what?"

"Time lost," Mr. Gibbs said softly, "Anyone can die anytime out here on the sea. Best to spend it with the one you love."

"You're okay with this then?"

"Why not? Didn't Jack tell ye, we don't discriminate on the sea? They can be together and still do their jobs, so why should anyone care or have a problem with it? Their business, aye?"

"Aye," Ash agreed, relieved, "So, how does it work? The captain actually has the authority to bind them in marriage? Uh... matelotage?"

"Aye, he can perform marriages," Mr. Gibbs said, "After, we drink, have a celebration, and the next day, things carry on as usual. They still sleep with the crew and have their own hammocks, and if they have sex with each other, they'll be discrete. And if one of them dies, the other gets their share of pay."

"Oh," Ash said.

She found that all rather interesting, actually. It seemed a very in depth arrangement, just like a normal marriage. Just... on the sea. With men instead of different genders. Ash shrugged and got back to work. Dinner was served early, and afterwards, everyone gathered on deck for the ceremony. The sun was going down, and it was beautiful. It seemed the perfect time for such a ceremony, but her eyes were on Sparrow.

He seemed just as confident as always, and a strange mixture of ruggedness and flamboyance. But humor was absent in him now. No matter how much he may joke otherwise, it was clear in his manner that this was a serious thing. Once the ceremony was over, however, all the stoppers were pulled out. The crew lit lanterns, since the light was fading fast, brought out countless bottles of rum, and pulled out crates and barrels for seating.

Andrew pulled out a lute and began to play. Over the past month, he would play when they had long stretches of boredom, which was surprisingly often, and so he had become and invaluable crew member, along with Carver who was skilled in carpentry, Gunnar who saw to the guns, Ash who both cooked and healed injuries, and Mr. Gibbs, who was second only to Sparrow himself. Ash got a bottle of rum and sat on a crate, watching the festivities fondly. Someone produced a deck of cards and challenged the captain to a game. Others danced. Some, like her, simply sat and drank. This feeling of camaraderie was nice, as if she belonged here, as if this was home. Ash had gotten almost completely through her bottle, her vision swam pleasantly, and the sun had long set when Sparrow came to sit next to her.

"I'm having a thought, lad," he said, "Do you own a sword?"

"No, what for?"

"Judging by what happened today, I think you should have one, and learn to use it."

"Okay, yeah, that will be easy," she snorted.

"It is! We got some swords from the attack today, and I could teach you, aye? What say you to that?"

"I... I'd really appreciate that. Thank you."

They sat in companionable silence for a while, watching the revelry. Ash watched Jahir, who drank and gamed and talked with everyone. She never thought of him as a social man, he hardly ever spoke, but it seemed he didn't need to speak to have a good time. Sparrow followed the direction of her gaze, then looked back at her.

"How did you get a mountain like that to follow you?" he asked.

Ash shrugged.

"I freed him from the brig of an EITC ship that had taken us captive. I didn't know him before that though, I just saw him as I was leaving and knew he needed help."

"I thought you said you're not a pirate, why would the EITC be after you?"

"They weren't hunting me. I... I was fleeing Japan with some members of the Yakuza when they came across our ship and attacked."

"The Yakuza?"

"A criminal organization in Japan. And before you ask, I'm not one of them either, we just did business occasionally."

"What sort of business would a nice young lad like you have with such a shady group?" Sparrow asked.

"I'm not as nice as you think. My adoptive father was one of the Emperor's elite guard, so I was often around the palace. I heard things – no one notices children. Over the years, I sold state secrets. I don't know how I got away with it for so long, but eventually the guard found out there was a spy at court, and they set a trap. I ran with the Yakuza members I was negotiating with, and as we ran I changed my price. I'd give them the information they wanted, if they got me out of Japan. They agreed, of course. I didn't even get to say goodbye. I like to think my father's alright, but the Emperor probably had him executed, whether he was guilty or not, he was connected to a criminal. The dishonor that would bring upon the Imperial family..."

"Your adoptive father, you say?"

"Yes. I never knew my parents. Apparently my adoptive father found me as a small child washed up on the shores of Japan, and took me in. I don't remember anything before that. He tried so hard to get me to take an honorable path, but I found a criminal life to be more profitable. He was a good man, and I didn't deserve him. He took me in, saved my life, and look at how I repaid him. But some part of me wonders if perhaps this is my destiny, and I was powerless to resist it's pull as the tides follow the moon."

"I like to think we can forge our own destiny," Sparrow said.

"Perhaps. Perhaps not... I tried something of the sort. There was a man, a wizard, around where I lived. He taught me what I know of healing, plus some other things. I was his apprentice for seven years. He also tried to teach me ethics. Still, maybe some of what he and my father tried to instill in me over the years stuck. I don't think I'm evil, but I'm not all good either."

"Lad, you can be a pirate and a good man."

Ash looked at him. Her vision swam a bit, and she sighed.

"I know," she said softly, "You are. A good man."

Sparrow's mouth twisted into a smile.

"All evidence to the contrary."

"What evidence? All I've seen is you being a good man. There are worse than you in the world, Jack."

He turned to look at her, his expression unreadable.

"You are a good man. You could have killed me when you suspected me of trying to poison you. But you didn't."

"It was what you said, about wanting freedom. That is what is most dear to my heart as well. Ships are wonderful for that, aren't they? Can take you anywhere, anytime."

Ash looked into his eyes and understood him completely. This ship, the Black Pearl, was his freedom. Being it's captain meant he could steer his own destiny, answerable to no one but himself. That sort of independence was worth more than all the rum in the world, more than towers of gold. It was a treasure without price. She had never felt such an intimate bond with another human being as she did in that moment. For once, she understood him completely, down to the marrow of his bones.

"Jack..."

"You smell good," he said suddenly.

Only then did she realize how very close their faces were.

"And your skin is so pale, and so soft," he mused, his eyes misty as he looked her over.

"I..."

"Ash..."

Her heart was pounding. Sparrow's eyes flickered down to her lips, and it was that precise moment that Andrew struck up a tune. Ash's head turned, and she smiled.

"Oh, yes! I love this one!"

She got up and went to dance, leaving Sparrow to sit back, frowning. He watched Ash, thinking over what just happened, the things he learned. Jahir came to lean on the rail next to him, also watching Ash.

"He's a lot stronger than people think he is, isn't he?" Sparrow said out of nowhere.

"Aye," Jahir agreed, "Stubborn too. Has to be, to make it in this life. Still, I an' I look out for him."

He went over to Ash and picked her up, throwing her over one shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"No, put me down!" Ash called out as he carried her away, "I'm having so much fun!"

"You need to sleep, captain my captain. Breakfast to cook tomorrow morning."

Watching them go, Jack drained his bottle, then lurched to his feet to get another.

Author's Note: Just a friendly reminder, please review. You have no idea how much they make my day.