*Disclaimer*: I dunt own POTC, yadda yadda. Just don't sue me for anything, okay? I'm innocent. Really. No, I don't know how that got there and -- oh that? Heh, no, of course that ain't mine. Now-- oh… oh that, um, er… yeah. Heh, well that one might be mine… -grins and skitters away- But Lee and and anyone else you see not directly related to the movie are MINE. No stealing. -slaps yer greedy fingers away-

^Lil Note^: I have 2 reviews! Yay! Good ones too ^^ Meksh meh happay. Thanks to you all, yew rawk mah sawks awf ^o^!

^Nuther Note^: Okay, yer starting to claw at my flesh now but I'll be quick. I failed to mention before that I'm prone to change things and also prone to forget things. I tend to add/remove things to a story that TOTALLY alters the path. Bad habit x_X I know. I'll warn you when I do though. Like now, I forgot to put something in chapter one when Lee and Jack and Ye Old Whiskered Man were in the rowboat. Imunna change it and re-upload the chapter so, uh… yeah. FANCY. Okay, now on to chapper 2.

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The boat began to slow and Jack noticed the old whiskery man had stopped rowing. He hadn't been paying attention to anything since Lee decided to ignore him. It suddenly dawned on him that it was overcast.

/I don't remember seein' clouds in the distance…/ Jack thought as his forehead wrinkled. He looked to the sky, expecting to find some great gray beast smothering the sun. Instead he saw a great big ship.

The rowboat was nothing but a toy compared to the ship. They drifted beside it and Jack craned his neck around to see crackled and scratched gold lettering. He tried to decipher the words in his head, and through the peeling strips he could make out two very strange words.

/N… Nar Oienlal… e? No, that's an I, or… well then that must be a T, or is that an L…/

Lee glanced at Jack and noticed his obvious confusion.

"Mare Orientale." She said sharply.

Jack looked at Lee quickly, then back at the tattered name. Oh, oh he could see it now. Yeah, Mare Orientale. But then his nose wrinkled

"What the bloody hell kinda name is Mare Orientale for a ship?"

Lee didn't answer. But she paused mid step and heaved a sigh, then continued to climb up to the ship.

Jack shook his head and followed Lee up the limp rope ladder (pitiful thing looked like it would fall apart if you so much as breathed on it. But to his surprise it held quite well) onto the ship. Once on the ship Lee drug her feet a few steps toward the center, rubbing her forehead. Jack looked around curiously, a slight grin on his face. He nodded and shifted his eyes, as if waiting for something. When nothing happened he turned to a random man and spoke.

"Uh, say good fellow. Mind cuttin' these ropes off?"

The man didn't flinch, but his eyes locked on the pirate before him. Jack turned to another man, presenting his hands and tilting his head in question. Still no movement. Jack dropped his tightly bound hands and turned, looking for some way to free himself of the bindings. He was unsuccessful.

"Guess I'll just stay like this then. I can learn to swim like this. It'll make sword fighting a bit difficult though, wouldn't you say? Not to mention eating, I'll have to--"

Jack stopped mid sentence as a silvery blade sliced between his wrists, missing his flesh by mere centimeters. The ropes fell to the wooden floor and Jack rubbed his wrists as a rush of blood came flooding back to his colorless fingers. He looked up as Lee slowly slid the sword in her hand back into the sheath attached to the hip of a very built man. Bald, he was. Didn't look all too pleasant either. He was staring at Jack as if trying to mentally spear him. His fists clenched and he folded his arms across his broad chest. He wore no shirt, only a vest which presented his massive arms. Jack examined his wrists once again and grinned.

"Well that feels better."

Lee shot a harsh glare at him and turned on her heel. She sauntered, muttering to herself, to the bow of the ship and leaned against the wooden rail. She was still rubbing her forehead. A few moments of utter stillness and silence dwelled amongst the crew before they all took their places, pulling up the anchor and preparing to set sail. Jack stood still a moment longer until a random crew member walked past. He put a hand on the plump little man's shoulder and leaned in close.

"'Ey my friend, might there be any rum on this ship? I mean every ship's gotta have its rum, right?"

No answer.

"…right?"

The old man raised his shoulder to flip Jack's hand off of it and walked away with a scowl. Jack brought his hands to his chin and clenched his fist, gritting his teeth as he looked at the sky. He cursed to himself. He'd probably've had better luck in Hell. At least maybe the Devil would share some rum. He looked back down only to notice a woman across the ship staring at him with a smirk. Everything about her was dark. Dark eyes, dark skin, dark hair. Jack rolled his eyes.

"Another bloody woman." He muttered. Then he thought for a moment. /Oh, but maybe this one won't be such a fiery tempered lass like the other./

The woman began to walk slowly toward Jack and he raised his chin slightly, attempting to look charming and interested. The woman stopped just inches away from Jack and placed her hands on her hips, looking up at him. Jack gave a crooked smile and stepped closer. The woman laughed slightly and rolled her eyes.

"Ah, the famed Captain Jack Sparrow. You're just as I've heard. Thirsty for the rum and hungry for the women."

Jack nodded spread his arms, presenting himself with a grin. Then his head tilted slightly.

"Famed?" He questioned.

"What, you'd rather be unheard of?" The woman raised an eyebrow.

Jack's forehead wrinkled in seriousness. "No, no I uh…"

Damn. She was just like that other one. But he was quite surprised he was /famous/. Surprised yes, but oh so delighted as well. He gave a slight laugh and opened his mouth to speak, but the woman's voice filled the silence.

"You can be a real disappointment ya know. 'specially if you say the wrong thing to the right person." She tilted her head to the side. "Smartin' off ain't gonna get you off this ship any faster Mr.Sparrow."

He could've corrected her. He should've. But he was apparently in the middle of a lecture and decided it best to keep listening.

"If it was me, I'd go talk to her. Then again she's known me to long to slice me head off."

With that the woman walked away, leaving a very confused Jack Sparrow behind her. Damn his confusion. It was overcoming him too much today. Normally Jack would dismiss the suggestion without a second thought. But seeing as the entire crew was giving him dirty looks and he didn't have anything to lose (besides his head, maybe. He wasn't exactly sure if that woman was just makin' up stories), he decided to talk to the annoying wench.

There she was, still on the bow. She wasn't leaning on the railing now, she had slumped down with her back against the wood and one knee drawn up to her chest. Jack stopped and watched her for a moment. She didn't turn her head so she must not have seen him.

Of course she saw him. She wasn't blind after all. She simply chose not to look at him with more than the corner of her eye. Why give that filthy sexist the grace of a glance? No. She was still happy with her grayish-blue expanse of ocean. Jack stepped closer and by pure reaction to movement her eyes shot to the side for a brief moment. She cursed her reflexes, her habits, whatever the hell made her look at him just then. Jack put his arms behind his back and bent down close to her.

"Anyone sittin' here luv?" He knew there was no one, but she couldn't kill him for asking. If anything she should be happy with his politeness. She didn't give either response, she only blinked slowly. Jack took it as the favorable answer and sat down beside her. His shoulder brushed against hers and she leaned away with a crinkled nose. Jack brought his knees up and rested his elbows on them. Silence was too abundant on this ship, and Jack searched for something to say, something to spark conversation. But Lee held the match.

"I admired Captain Jack Sparrow."

Jack looked at Lee, somewhat thankful she was talking and somewhat reluctant to hear what she had to say. But then the word 'admired' came to his ears and he suddenly fancied tuning in.

"I'd even dare to say he's the one who inspired me to be a pirate."

She looked down, watching Jack from the very corner of her eye.

"I've heard many things about Captain Sparrow. The good I delighted in and the bad I discarded. I told myself it wasn't true, it was simply the bitter rants of an old drunk."

Now she turned and gave Jack a cold stare. He shifted his eyes and his weight before looking back at her.

"Pour me a pint, mate. I got my own rants to tell."

Jack stayed in that frozen stare for a moment before looking away. Okay, he'd admit it. He was thankful she saved his life, even though she was a woman. He might've been a bit rude to make that comment before. But did he deserve /all/ of this? This staring and silence and coldness and lectures? He sighed. Get it over with, just make her happy so she'll shut her bloody mouth.

"Thanks for saving me neck back there, mate."

The words came out quick and chained together and he looked in the opposite direction to avoid Lee's face. He didn't want her sarcasm or more of her whining. But if he had faced her he'd see only a softening in her eyes and the bare beginnings of a smile. He called her mate. She wasn't luv or lass that time, she was equal with the pirate Jack.

Eventually he did turn around, but it was to the back of her head. He gazed at her tangled hair. It was kissed by the sun in different degrees; streaked with golden and bronze hues. The darkest under layer was a moderate shade of auburn. She had pulled the strands near her face back into a loose half ponytail low on her neck. It was a futile attempt, quite a few wispy strands still fluttered around her face.

Lee turned to face Jack, and now his dark eyes met hers. He blinked and she smiled slightly. Then she stood and walked away. Jack watched her go, not observing her leaving as much as looking at her from behind. Quite a hippy lass she was, in the best possible way of course. The loose white shirt she wore didn't mask the fact that she had a slender torso. Jack's head tilted as he scanned her up and down. The ratty brown trousers she wore were rolled up to just below her knees, exposing her well-muscled calves. Tan. So very tan. Jack squirmed in delight as one corner of his mouth crept upward in delight. He leapt to his feet and skipped after the lass.