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'Ello! This is my first POTC fic, so try not to be too hard on me. DON'T FLAME ME, but constructive criticism is okay. And sorry if Jack's a bit OOC.I wanted to do something different. Hope you enjoy! Please R/R!

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Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Disney characters from POTC, yadda yadda yadda.although, I do own a Cap'n Jack Sparrow doll, courtesy of MrsPitt, and I'm looking to buy Orlando Bloom and Johnny Depp on ebay.

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The sky was a mismatch of deep, brilliant hues of red, orange, and purple, with a few clouds off in the distance. Sunset was the best time of day in Tortuga. Eager women roamed the beautiful island, looking for a partner for the night. Every bar opened up, with overflowing kegs of rum, whiskey, and beer.

'Rum an women - what more is there teh life?' Jack pondered cheerily as he took in another deep breath of the salty ocean breeze.

He made his way slowly down the various beaten cobblestone paths, slightly swaggering, for he was drunk, of course. He licked his full lips, still wet from the faint taste of the last bottle of rum he had.

'When was that?' he asked himself.

He couldn't even remember the last time he was sober. All too well, being drunk just made him forget about his longing, a longing that wasn't fulfilled by a one-night stand, a longing for a woman that loved him.

But, alas, 'I'm *Cap'n* Jack Sparrow. Women adoh me.', he reassured himself.

True as it was, women did adore him; his suavity, charm, and charisma lured them in, but he could never hold a woman for long.

"Drink up, me 'earties, yo ho!...", he sang, slightly slurring his words, as he stopped to admire himself in a shop window. He wore a white, ragged tunic, and a pair of faded blue cheesecloth trousers, holding his pistol, sword, compass, and a bag full of shillings. He smiled a toothy grin to the female shop owner, showing several of his gold teeth. He continued singing as he walked, occasionally messing up a few words, or stuttering, while moving his hands around unusually. He would stop from time to time to tip his worn, three-cornered hat to certain women, revealing his long, black hair adorned with numerous beads, braids, and bones. He would then wink at them roguishly as he walked past, leaving them whispering amongst themselves, blushing.

"Bloody 'ell, where's that bah?", he mumbled angrily, after he had walked around town for a good ten minutes. Suddenly, a familiar-looking blonde in a dark green gown stormed up to him. "Francesca!", he exclaimed, smiling cheekily at her. Without warning, she slapped him in the face, ran off, and, after a moment of rubbing his beet-red cheek, said to the ground, "I may 'ave deserved that."

A few staggers later, and, "Aye, here 'tis!", he announced, glancing at the rotted, wooden sign, reading, 'Man's Best Friend'. He walked inside the dark, musty bar, checking out the scenery as he hopped up onto an empty wooden barstool. He squinted in a peculiar manner. There was a fight, or maybe two, in the back of the bar; he couldn't see straight. A young woman was dancing for a couple older pirates - probably to get a pass on their ship. He skimmed for any new 'lasses' with his deep, mysterious eyes.

The bartender stared at him rudely, waiting for him to snap out of his trance and order something. He finally noticed her staring at him, shook his head, and slurred, with some trouble, "I'll be.be 'avin.some *hic* r- rum.", while wagging a finger, adorned with rings, at her. She walked off, rolling her bloodshot eyes. He sat at the bar with his forearm propped up, the only thing holding his intoxicated, heavy head up, for a little while, his mind obviously somewhere else, his beautiful eyes glazed.

Suddenly, something caught his eye - gold. Little flecks of gold, dancing across the ceiling, entertaining him. For he, of course, was a pirate, and pirates were obsessed with treasure, which made the glimmering gold bits hold his attention even longer.

He heard a loud thud, as he looked around, rubbing his eyes. "'Ere.", the bartender snapped as she pushed the cold rum in Jack's face and held out her palm for payment. "Aye." he said groggily, fishing for the money in his pockets. He managed to pull out two shillings and slurred, "Many thang.thack.thanks, Milady.". She sighed, then walked over to a new customer a few stools over. Jack took a deep breath before chugging the whole bottle down in one swig. "Ahh.", he commented, refreshed, and almost passing out from bottle after bottle of rum.

He tried hard to remember what he was so interested in, biting his lip. "Aye, gold!", he exclaimed, as the skinny, ragged pirate missing two fingers, slumped over next to him, stared at him. Jack ignored the staring and searched the ceiling for the flecks of gold. He turned around, frantically, and finally caught sight of it.

'There 'tis.', he thought to himself.

But the gold wasn't on the ceiling like it was before. It was located around the waist of a young pirate girl, as a chain belt. Jack's jaw dropped and his heartbeat raced. He had just seen the most beautiful girl in the world. And he was determined to have her.

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More to come soon! Left you at a cliffhanger, kind of. Naughty me.