yay! it's chapter one!! i know you must be tingling with excitement....*knows it sounded wrong, doesn't care* i hope you guys liked the prologue...if ya didn't it'd be kinda pointless for me to put this up. but oh well. there has to be at least one person out there who likes it, right? right. oh, and as the story progresses, i'm hoping i don't make it too like, ya know. just another whatever love story between some character we're all obsessed with and another of my own making. because i've been seeing a lot of that....*will not name any names* so yeah, i'll stop talking now and let you get on with it, okay? okay!

disclaimer: we already know i don't own pirates. and if you're the one loser out there who didn't, sucks for you. but i do own katrina. i know you all want her but there's nothing i can do.
Chapter One


Katrina's curiousity only grew with the year that passed. With the hustle and bustle of the inn, no one really payed attention to her small figure darting in and out of corners, sticking her nose in places where she shouldn't. But doing this did prove to be quite helpful, for the more Katrina hid in the corners she loved so much, the more she learned exactly what it meant to be a pirate.

"Ol' Robinson gave up his pair o' boots today," she overheard one man say to another. "Damn shame that is."

"Aye," the other man agreed. "He be a bloody good pirate, if I ever saw one, that Robinson."

Katrina squirmed in her corner under a table. So this Robinson man was a. . .a pirate? She knew she had heard the word before, and recalled a night when four strangers, three men and a woman, had come calling for her father. They had sat up for hours talking, and in turn Katrina had sat dutifully outside the door listening to every word they had said, ignoring the fact that she was supposed to be asleep.

"They're bringin' down pirates from here to Tortuga," the woman had said, her voice filled with venom. Katrina had not been sure who "they" were, and even now still didn't know, but that hadn't stopped her from listening intently.

"Sooner or later, they'll find you here too. Along with the misses and the little 'un."

Katrina had assumed the woman had been talking to her father then, after hearing what seemed to be the reference to her mother and herself. But then, did that mean her father was a pirate too?

"What about this brother of yours, Christian?" a man's voice had suddenly intervened.

"Who? Barbossa?"

Upon hearing her last name, Katrina was snapped back into reality, where instead of sitting outside her father's study, she was haunched in a dark corner under a table in her uncle's inn. She craned her neck in hopes of getting a better view of the two men who had seemed to change the subject to that of her uncle.

"Aye, he runs a nice little place here, he does," said the man with a long, straggly beard and thick, heavy set brows. The other man wore an eye patch over his right eye, which was positioned in such a way that Katrina could just make out the white outline of the scar underneath. He leaned in closer to Straggles so that Katrina was forced to inch forward as well.

"I also hear," Eye-Patch said with a hint of excitement in his voice, "that he also runs a nice smuggling ring, right here at the inn. He's got his own ship and everything, that sails from here to Tortuga with a load of looted goods!

Katrina's grey eyes sparkled. That was the second time now she had heard of this Tortuga place. For some reason, she felt a strange longing to go there. Besides, it did sound a lot better than Port Royal. Nothing ever happened here worth remembering.

"D'ya think we could get a share in some o' them profits?" Straggles seemed to wonder aloud.

"I sure hope so," Eye-Patch confessed. "I'm aimin' to get meself a fake eye, ya know? In place o' this ol' patch here."

Straggles nodded in approval. "Aye, that'd be good for ye. But how do we go about gettin' on the right side of a pirate such as the likes of Barbossa?"

"By not speakin' of him in places he shouldn't be spoken of."

Even Katrina, who was not one to scare easily, jumped at the sound of her uncle's voice.

"Now, if you gentlemen'd be so kind as to step into the back with Murdock here. . ." He gestured to the insanely large man to his left, which upon looking at, Katrina saw both Straggles and Eye-Patch gulp down a lump of fear. ". . .I'll be happy to discuss your, 'share' with you."

Barbossa gave them a deadly grin as they laughed nervously and stood to follow Murdock into, Katrina knew, the secret room behind the kitchen where Barbossa prohibited her from going. And, if truth be told, Katrina had never really any desire to go there. Until now.

She watched them disappear behind the kitchen door, and when they had gone, figured that it was high-time for her to disappear as well. Putting in an effort to make no sound at all (even though from the noise in the inn she probably couldn't be heard anyway), she waited until her uncle had picked up a wine bottle from one of the tables and started cleaning it roughly with a rag. Him being occuppied allowed her the chance to slowly creep out from under the table to make her getaway.

She didn't get a chance, however, to get very far.

"Katrina?"

Freezing in midway crawl, Katrina realized that Barbossa had known she was there all along.

"A quick word, if you don't mind."

He set the wine bottle back on the table, and Katrina quickly scrambled to her feet before he could turn around. When he did, they stood for a moment and seemed to critique each other, like adversaries before a battle. To Katrina, he was an adversary, always being the one to get in the way of what she wanted most: knowledge.

"Right, follow me, Missy."

Katrina allowed him to walk in front of her, and then fell into step behind him. In an effort to take her mind off the lecture she was about to receive, she counted how many steps it took for them to reach their destination. She had gotten to to forty-six when Barbossa suddenly stopped ahead of her, a sign they had reached the door to his upstairs room. Her eyes lifted from the ground to look at him as he opened the door and held out his hand, bidding her to go inside. Katrina followed his silent order, and once inside the room took a seat on the creaking bed. Barbossa then stepped in himself and shut the door with a click behind him.

"So just how long were ye under that table?"

Barbossa continued to pour himself a drink, while Katrina remained silent. He decided to answer for her.

"Long enough to hear everythin' they said, no doubt."

Normally she wouldn't have done it, but at this point Katrina thought it best to say exactly what was on her mind.

"You're a pirate."

Her uncle seemed to freeze in place, making Katrina wonder if she had said the right thing after all. "Is that so?" he questioned, his voice raised ever so slightly.

"Yes. And Dad was a pirate too, wasn't he?"

When he said nothing, Katrina cocked her head to one side. "Uncle? Uncle is it true?"

He let out a long sigh. "Yes, yes it's bloody true." Katrina's face brightened at the thought. To think that both her uncle and her father were pirates! But if Barbossa had told her, then why. . . .

"Why did Dad never tell me he was a pirate?"

Barbossa rolled his eyes. "One, because ye were too much of a child, and two. . . ." His voice trailed off at this, and his face took on the look of someone wondering what to say next. "And two, for the same reason I wanted to tell ye naught at first."

"And why's that?"

"Because ye have a big mouth, girl! That's why!"

Katrina raised her fingers to the corners of her mouth, prodding them gently. "My mouth isn't --"

"It's a figure of speech! Means ye talk too much about the things we adult folk would prefer ye didn't."

"Oh. Like pirates?"

"Aye, like pirates."

She bowed her head in thought. So, pirates were never spoken of, and the fact that her uncle was one was kept neatly in the shadows where it collected dust. A devious idea crept into Katrina's mind then, and she had to try very hard to keep herself from smiling.

"I'm sorry, Uncle," she cooed. "It was wrong of me to eavesdrop."

"Well, I'm glad ye realize your mistakes," Barbossa said, believing her, Katrina hoped, completely. "A sign o' good character that."

"And I do promise not to tell anyone," she continued, "since you said that talkin' about pirates was bad and all."

Barbossa raised his chin. "And do I have your word on that?"

Katrina lowered her eyes to her hand which sat restlessly in her lap. "Well, yes. . .if you take me to Tortuga with you, that is."

She looked up to see Barbossa open his mouth to reply, and then close it again, finally being hit with the realization of what she had said. What Katrina had expected, was for him to go furious with her, while she would sit calmly and tell him that it he didn't take her, she would kindly announce anyone who was willing to listen that he was a pirate. Instead, what she got was the complete opposite. Barbossa started to laugh.

It began softly enough, but as the seconds passed the laugh grew heartier and louder. Katrina balled her fists in annoyance.

"Uncle! Stop laughing, I'm serious!"

"Oh, I'm sure ye are, Missy!" he chuckled. "But as ye should be well aware, that is completely out of the question!"

"But I'll tell!" Katrina cried desperately. "I'll tell everyone!"

"I have no doubt ye will, lass. But to what profit would that be to you?" He took a step towards her and bent forward slightly. "Say ye did tell, hmm? And I'd be taken away to the gallows to get the punishment I best deserved. But wait!" He raised a jeweled hand to his mouth in fake surprise. "What about little Katrina? The poor orphaned child thrown to the streets with naught but the clothes on her back!"

Katrina's frustration turned quickly into confusion. "But I'm not an orphan. . . . Mum and Dad can still come back for me if you get caught. . .can't they?"

Her uncle's face took on a sudden sadness. "I'm afraid, Katrina, that this time they left ye here for good."

A heavyness set in her heart when she realized Barbossa's words were probably true. Already a year had gone by, with no sign at all of her parents. Katrina remembered her father telling her that he wouldn't leave her as long at the inn as he did last time. She figured now that it had probably been just talk.

"A right shame to be certain," Barbossa continued suddenly, "ye havin' to be left here and all. Haven't quite got used to the face meself yet. Never was too good with kids. . . ." He unbuckled the belt that held the holster* for his pistol, and the pistol therein. Katrina eyed it carefully as he placed it on the bedside table, then leaned down to open and dig through a rather large wooden chest.

"Now where did I put that blasted thing. . .? Ah!"

He sprung up to produce from the trunk the most, in Katrina's opinion, hideous hat in existence. It was definitely bigger than necessary, and had three black feathers of almost equal length protruding from out the side. She watched with mild disgust as Barbossa placed the hat atop his head, and admired himself in the mirror."

"Hmm, not bad. Now, if ye'll excuse me," he said, glancing sideways at Katrina and heading towards the door. "I have gentlemen downstairs wonderin' what's become of me."

Katrina jumped quickly to her feet. "Take me to Tortuga! Teach me how to be a pirate!!"

He sighed and swung around to face her. "No, no and bloody no! How many times do I have to tell ye before it settles in that thick, childish skull o' yours?"

Mumbling something about her being too young, he reached for the handle of the door. But Katrina would have none of it. She would show him how ready she was to be a pirate, regardless if she was seven or not. Her eyes instantly locked onto the pistol on the table, and she ran to grab it. It was heavier than she thought it would be, and it took both of her small hands to hold it up in the air. With her right thumb, she cocked the pistol, just as she had seen her father do so many times. She squinted her eyes and aimed for her target: the top of her uncle's head. However, Barbossa had apprently heard the click, for he began to turn around. . .just as Katrina squeezed the trigger.

She was nearly thrown off her feet by the sheer force of the bullet being catapulted from the pistol, a force she most certainly had not been expecting. A thin white wisp of smoke eminated from the barrel, and the sound of the shot still rung clearly in her ears. Past the barrel, Katrina could see her uncle standing completely rigid and with a brand new hold in his over-sized hat.

Barbossa let out a short gasp of a laugh and took the hat from off his head, sticking his finger through the hole. He gasp-laughed again and looked up at his niece.

"Can I ask ye why ye shot a hole in me hat?"

"It was ugly and I didn't like it," she answered him simply, the gun now hanging at her side. "Besides, it looked funny on you anyways."

"Well, ye certainly do have a fire in ye, for such a wee lass," was Barbossa's reply. "I've had a change of thought," he told her, a mischievious twinkle growing in his eyes that made Katrina wonder. "I've decided to show ye the ropes o' bein' a true scallywag."

Her face instantly brightened, but Barbossa held up his hand as if in warning. "Don't get too excited now! The road won't be an easy one," he paused, "for either of us, I reckon. Now, ye can make this real easy by followin' my every word, or ye can make it hard by, pullin' a stunt such as ye did now. What say ye?"

Katrina grinned at her Uncle broadly. "Yes sir!"

"No child! When I ask, 'What say ye?', you say to me either 'aye' or 'nay'. So, what say ye?"

". . .Aye!"

"Good! Now, first rule o' the evening: stay here, and don't be causin' no trouble. Understand?"

Although her childish instinct was immediately against the taking of any orders, Katrina's desire to be a pirate was the instant victor, and she bowed her head in submission. "Aye, sir."

"Right then. Until I return!" Barbossa was about to swing the hat back onto his head, but before he could remembered it's current condition and instead tossed it to the floor with a wave of his hand, and then was gone.

Giddy with the events, Katrina didn't even mind the soft click of the door being locked. Noticing that she still had the pistol in her hand, she gingerly placed it back on the table. She then flopped down on her uncle's bed, her deed grey eyes staring into the ceiling. Perhaps it was better that her parents weren't coming back to get her after all. She knew her mother wouldn't be happy, and even though Barbossa had said her father was a pirate, she was pretty sure he wouldn't be too thrilled to discover his daughter was about to become one herself.



*about the holster...i'm not sure, but i think they called the thingies that held the guns and stuff frogs...can someone tell me if i'm not just making this up out of the insaneness of my mind?? thank you!

A/N: whew, another finish to another chapter. much thanx to ivy3 who was my first reviewer! your review made me happy ^^. i am sorry to say, however, that there won't be any jack for some time yet, actually not for another two chapters at least....but don't worry! he will be in here. i just hope the wait is worth it....
-Meru