A/N: My friends who write here all insist on the "You/Character" stories are the best, and continually search for those to read. They also write them.

.. Screw them.

Yes, and .. insert things about how none of these people, except ones I made up like Tom, are not mine.. ..

CAPTAIN'S HAT

"Bloody hell 'tis, Rudolph! A damn bloody hell!" Captain Jack Sparrow mused thoughtfully, slurring his words courtesy of the empty rum bottle next to him.

Tom, overlooking the fact that his name wasn't Rudolph, nodded silently as he surveyed his new employer: drunken, but smart. The commands he issued were crazy, yet relatively simple. Examples of such errands were: buying rum by the gallons, hundreds of different hats (never mind that he wore his same old, raggedy one anyways) and buying expensive art pieces for target practice. "Waste of time, art," Jack would say when he did this, which was usually right after he'd gone through one of the gallons of rum.

All of the aforementioned things had been lost, though, except the hat, when the tragedy occurred. In fact, one of the first things Jack insisted on was replenishing the rum.

"Stupid, stupid Jack. Should've never let that Anamaria talk me into letting her on the Pearl," he slurred. "Should've known that manly wench would sneak off with my ship while I was ashore!"

Tom held back laughter. It wasn't the way he recalled it. Reminiscing, he thought back to that day. He had been ashore, buying art. When he had come back, he'd found Jack, lying on the dock at Tortuga, in a drunken coma. It had taken ages to wake the man up. Tom was a small man, and had no means to carry Jack away from the docks. They'd sat there, Jack in a coma, Tom bored and occasionally shaking him, for the better part of an hour. Then, out of the blue, Jack had sprung up, demanded why Elizabeth was burning the rum again, and fell back down. Tom was still staring in something like shock at his prone body, when he immediately sprung up once more to ask where he was, why was he there, and where the hell was his bloody ship?! After Tom had told him these things in as much detail as possible, Jack then told Tom that that wasn't what he remembered at all.

"Timmy, my boy! You, see, that's not what happened in the least!" Jack had said. "First, that wench Anamaria told the crew lies upon lies concerning their dear old Captain Jack. Then, being small-minded as they were, they believe the scoundrel! Seeing me taking my beauty nap, they got the idea it would be easy just to toss me out. Of course I screamed and cursed at them, but didn't want to hurt the poor misguided blighters! I saw what they meant to do, but by then it was too late and I'd been overwhelmed by sheer numbers. They tossed me overboard and I was conked unconscious! Horrible thing!

On the bright side, ole Jack had kept stashes of money hidden in various places for just such an occasion. He figured if you'd been turned on once, it could happen again. Unfortunately, most of these hidden places were not on Tortuga. Thankfully, they also weren't anyplace his former crew knew how to get to. Jack was the only living person who knew where the last adventure had begun and ended, and where most of the plunder was stored: the island where the former cursed crew of the Black Pearl had hidden their loot and the chest of Aztec gold.. The money there wasn't itself hidden, just the island . . . Which could, you see, form some problems.

"Yes, Randy! Don't you recall that horrible expression on her face as she steered me ship away?" Although Jack and Tom both knew that nothing of the sort had been seen by Jack, even according to Jack's own story where he'd been knocked out cold, Tom agreed merely for the sake of not being argumentative. After all, he was being paid to be his servant.

Jack, in fact, had his own thoughts now. As they stood on the balcony of a tavern, Jack was surveying all the docked ships. There were a few rickety old fishing boats, and a medium-sized hunk of wood that couldn't even be called a ship. These bloody things couldn't even hold a bloody carp, let alone me, Ricky, and the necessary rum.. Oh, yes, and food and other such extras. But it really is the rum that's important. And me, I s'pose, if I'm to get anything done about this situation. Ricardo's entirely disposable. Wait.. What I am thinking about? Must be drunk.. Must be..the rum.

Entirely unaware he was being disposed of in Jack's mind, Tom was watching the setting sun. All of a sudden, a rather large ship appeared from behind the rock face that stretched far out into the water from the right side of the island. It was big, but not too big enough for two men to handle themselves. It was also nice, and new, judging by the perfectly white sails and undamaged exterior. It looked fast.

Jack saw it, too.

"If I ever made prayers, Carlos, there's God's answer to them!"

Tom looked at him questioningly, not understanding just yet. The hungry look on Jack's face cleared all questions from his mind: Jack was going to 'commandeer' that boat.

"Now, now, Kim, if that is your real name, and I'm sure it is, who wants some celebratory wine?"

"Wine, Jack?" Tom asked with a faintly surprised look on his face.

Jack gave Tom a sad look, one you'd probably give to someone with a horrible disability, or cancer. "No, Kim. Rum. Rum all 'round!" Jack cackled merrily while Tom gave Jack a look that could only be described as 'confused'.

~~~

A/N: Any good? R/R, please please please. This is my first fan fiction, I need constructive criticism and stuff. Flames are appreciated, as they provide me with amusement. ^_^ If you help me any (with suggestions and things for the plot) I may just give you some mentions either in the story (if I'm feeling creative) or in the A/N.