CHAPTER ONE
Jack growled and drank another mug of rum. Here he was, in a tavern on some Caribbean Island or other – again without the Black Pearl. He had lost it a second time, to mutiny no less. This time it was led by the woman he'd stolen a ship from. He now realized he shouldn't have trusted her to be in his crew, with her lust for revenge and all.
This time he feared he may not have the diligence it would take to get his beloved Pearl back. Perhaps he'd just stay here, scoring hookers and getting drunk on rum until he died from it. Yeah, that sounded all right.
Eventually the bartender kicked Jack out of the tavern, when he then wandered the streets of the island settlement, tipsy in his movements.
"Yo-ho, yo-ho, a bloody pirate's life for me…" he slurred bitterly, stumbling every few steps.
He found a nice barn to spend the night in. No one would mind. He curled up in a pile of hay and sighed, talking to himself.
"I'm beginning to think I'm not meant to have the Black Pearl," he mumbled.
Eventually, Jack moped himself to sleep. He was awoken the next morning, being beaten over the head by a boy with a broom.
"Get out of me father's barn, scum!" he shouted.
Jack quickly stumbled to his feet and ran into the street, removing his hat for a moment to run his fingers through his knotty, heavily damaged hair. After putting the hat back on, he sighed and strolled down the road, morosely examining the morning village life happening around him. Then, when he neared the docks, he stopped dead in his tracks.
Tied to the dock was the second most beautiful ship he'd ever seen (the Pearl being the first, of course). It was large, elegant, and apparently unsupervised. Jack got the familiar itch for adventure in his fingertips, and he merrily made his way to the ship.
When he got to the dock of it, he saw that it was called "The Sea Maiden". He looked around for a bit, seeing that no one was on or near the ship. Perfect opportunity to commandeer it. Perhaps the Pearl would be his after all, if he could find a TRUSTWORTHY crew.
After untying it from the dock, he climbed aboard the ship and took the steering.
"This is too bloody easy," he smirked to himself. After the rudder started going, he proudly proclaimed, "I hereby pronounce this ship commandeered, by the Great Captain Jack Sparrow." He laughed.
"Aye, it's commandeered, but not by any Jack Sparrow," said a voice.
Jack whirled around to see a young boy on deck. He was short and had a delicate, feminine face, suggesting he was no older than 12 or 13. He wore pirate's rags – much like Jack's but slightly less elaborate. He wore the typical white shirt with puffy sleeves, and an old, worn pinstriped leather vest over it. His trousers were tan and filthy, only reaching to just below his knees. Long, decorative strips of fabric dangled from all over the pants. Underneath these he wore torn stockings, brown from wearing but presumably white, originally. His boots looked a bit too big for him and were also tattered, made of old leather. His hair was red and jawbone-length. It was spiky and shaggy at the ends, suggesting a several-layered sloppy cut with a sword or dagger. Last but not least, he had on the typical three-pointed hat of a pirate.
Jack sighed and leaned back against the steer. "Come on lad, get off this ship, I'm commandeering it."
"No, I'M commandeering it," the boy replied.
Jack laughed. "You – you commandeering a ship? You barely look old enough to know how to SPELL commandeer."
The boy raised an eyebrow. "How DO you spell it then?"
Jack creased his brow. "Well let's see. C…O…um…M…er…"
"C-o-m-m-a-n-d-e-e-r," The boy smirked.
Jack growled. "Look, I'm not here to compare each others' spelling skills, I'm here to take this ship for my own, so I suggest you get off before you get hurt."
The boy drew his sword. "I'm not leaving until the ship is mine."
Jack sighed and pulled out his own sword. "I really don't want to do this, PLEASE leave."
The boy stood his ground. Jack eventually shook his head and gave in to the boy's request. They began to duel.
At first Jack figured he'd go easy on the boy. Just try to knock his sword out of his hand and push him off the boat so he could safely swim to shore, which was only a few meters away. But this boy proved to have superior dueling skills. Not only was he quick, but he seemed to have the ability to predict every move Jack was about to make. After about 30 minutes, Jack grew tired and impatient and jumped behind the boy, throwing his arm around the boy's chest and holding on to him tightly, putting his sword to his neck.
"I'm asking you nicely one more time, get off my ship, lad," He said quietly.
The boy tried to struggle against Jack's strength, which was greater than his own. Suddenly, Jack noticed something odd about how the boy's chest was shaped.
"Wait a tick…" Jack said.
He blinked and cautiously dropped his gun, putting both his hands on the boy's chest and feeling around. This caused the boy to struggle harder and with twice as much anger. Underneath his tightly-tied vest, Jack could very faintly detect two small, symmetrical lumps.
His eyes widened and he spun the boy around, holding his hands behind his back with one hand and ripping his vest open with the other. Through the white shirt, Jack could see that his suspicions were correct. This boy had breasts. Humble breasts, but breasts nonetheless.
"You…you're not a lad!" Jack croaked in disbelief.
The girl pulled herself away from Jack, wrapping her arms around her chest and falling to her knees, feeling a great loss of dignity.
"No, it appears I'm not," she said glumly.
"But…you…I…" Jack was speechless.
Looking at her as a woman now, Jack figured she wasn't all that bad-looking. And she was definitely older than 13. Perhaps 18 or 19, but no older.
The girl picked up her vest and put it back on, buttoning it together tightly and standing back up, straightening her hat.
"My name is Flynn," she said.
Jack shook himself to his senses and smirked. He stepped on Flynn's sword, which had been lying on the ground by his feet. "Well, Miss…FLYNN. It appears you are without weapon and I have won this duel. Therefore, the ship is mine."
She scowled at him for a moment, clenching her fists. Then she sighed, her expression calming and said, "Very well."
Jack blinked. "That's…that's it? You're giving it up that easily? Not that I have any complaints, mind you…"
"Oh, I do have one condition," she said, smiling sweetly and putting her face very close to his.
Jack smirked, leaning in a bit closer and slightly puckering his lips. Flynn flinched at his rancid breath and pushed him away.
"Not that, you filthy sea dog," she said. "My condition is that I can accompany you on this ship. I suppose I'm all right with not being the captain, but I DO need a ship, no matter if I have to be in a low rank on it."
Jack pondered a moment. "All right, I suppose you can join me on my little cruise. But you've got to be willing to help me get my other ship back."
She nodded. "Aye, anything, as long as I can stay well away from any mainland."
"Just be sure to behave," Jack said. "I've learned from recent experience that women are frightful bad luck to have on board."
"Then just pretend you didn't grope my teats, and I'll be a boy," She replied, sitting on a coil of rope and polishing her sword with a rag.
Jack chuckled and continued to steer the ship, feeling the spray of the sea in his face and whistling. "What the bloody hell have you gotten yourself into now, Jack?"
He continued to whistle lightheartedly.