"Owhh, my head…" Sarah woke up to a very, very unpleasant headache. She was sitting in her bed, on top of the covers. She didn't remember getting in bed…then again, she didn't remember much about last night in the first place. All she could think of was that there was a crowded bar, a very hard table, and large amounts of rum. Very large amounts of rum.

"Well, that explains me pounding headache and selective memory loss…" She muttered, slowly dropping her legs off the edge of the bed. Her boots hit the floor, making a loud noise, too strong for her head. "Ahh!" She cringed, one hand gingerly touching her right ear. "Bloody headache…" She stood up and stepped through the doorway. "With my luck, it's a migraine…" She paused in her one-sided conversation, then, as an afterthought, she added, "Then, with Jack's luck combined with mine, it will be brain fever." She smiled wryly, closing her eyes, then headed up to the deck.

The sun was very bright, even at it's low state in the east, and she had to squint in order to not walk headfirst into everything.

Thought she couldn't see much, she had to take a double-take at what she saw on deck--which was…actually, a lack. A lack of Talia. Which was strange because Talia was always up first. No exceptions. Except for that once, when she hadn't been up, and Sarah went into her room to check on her. After nearly getting hit with almost everything in the room, and having her life threatened numerous times by Talia, Sarah vowed never to enter Talia's room again.

This was a problem, since Sarah had no idea what else to do. Talia wasn't up, but nearly everyone else was. Spotting Ryan, Sarah approached the card-playing-fanatic and spoke;

"Ryan--have you seen Talia?"

"Talia?" He asked. The way he said it, it either sounded as if he knew more than one Talia, or as if he had no idea who Talia was. "No, I haven't. You don't think she's…"

"Sleeping? Don't know…afraid to check, if you know what I mean."

Ryan raised his eyebrows very high, then shrugged. "Yeah…well, if she is, someone will have to wake her." He rocked on his heels for a moment, watching the sea, then glanced back at Sarah. "Not me."

Sarah's headache had suddenly just gotten nastier, and her personality along with it. What luck. Hoping her mood wouldn't fluctuate all day, she rolled her eyes, exasperatedly. Her head's condition did not exactly allow for arguments, so she took Ryan's hint to go see what was up with Talia, and turned away from him. Having to go near Talia's room was bad enough. Going in it was like facing death--actually, it was facing death.

Groaning, she trudged down the stairs to Talia's quarters. Far from thrilled, and closer to raw fright, Sarah cautiously neared the door. Please don't kill me, please don't kill me…I value my miserable life…sort of… She prayed, very slowly opening the door. And…

There was nothing. Talia did not jump up, cry like a savage, then start hurling things at her, nor did she begin screaming profanity. She did nothing, because she was not in the room.

"T…Talia??" Sarah asked, now very puzzled, which hurt her brain. Where could she be? She had gotten home from last night's tavern excursion…hadn't she?

She decided that, if anyone knew, it had to be Jack (since he had been awake that night, and she had not). Jack, who would most assuredly make her mood even worse with his complicated and random speeches. She could already feel her headache getting worse. As much as she was disinclined to talk to him, it had to be done. Now very sour for a number of reasons, she lazily headed over to the Black Pearl, which was buzzing with life in a similar manner to the Death Lily.

To annoy her further, Jack was not on deck either. "Oh what joy." She growled, grinding her teeth and surveying the ship. Her eyes fell upon Mr. Gibbs, who was standing casually near the side, and she walked over.

"Where's Jack?"

Gibbs turned around. "Sa--I mean, Pandora?" He frowned. "What are you doing here?"

Sarah's attitude this morning was not in the mood to suffer brainless, as well as pointless, questions, and so she narrowed her eyes and lowered her head.

"Where is Jack, Gibbs?" She asked, her voice very low. He stepped back, a little nervously.

"…Sleeping, I believe. But you shoul--"

Sarah was already gone.

"JACK SPARROW!!"

Jack woke with a start, then fell out of his bed, his head hitting the floor first. "Wha--?" He sluggishly recovered from his fall and looked around.

Sarah glared at him from the doorway. It apparently really irked her that he was asleep. "G'morning, sleeping beauty." She said, a very purposely brummagem smile on her face.

"Ah--Sarah. What brings a lovely…ehh…person…like you out here at this hour?" He blinked one eye, then the other. Then both at the same time. He sat up, looking a bit confused.

"Don't try me today, Jack. I'm most definitely not in the mood." She crossed her arms. Jack smirked and shifted his position, so that he was now sitting cross-legged on the floor, his hands on his feet.

"Really? Oh, that's a refreshing change of pace."

She smiled again, sarcastically, and shrugged one shoulder briskly.

"And I was so hoping that you'd warm up to me today…I had so much planned…horseback riding…poetry…walks on the beach…after all," He held up two fingers, now grinning broadly. "even harsh, ill-tempered lowlifes such as one Sarah Warren need a break or two."

She stared for a moment, anger building, then walked over, seized him by the collar yet again, and picked him up. She set him on his feet, brushed him off, backed away by a few inches, then slapped him very hard.

"Right. I get it. No crossing you today. Alright."

Sarah turned and sat on his bed, arms crossed again. She was now focusing intently on the floor in front of her. Jack arched an eyebrow and sat down on the bed--as far away from her as he could get.

"And if you don't mind me asking…" He began. She didn't react. "What's put you in such a bad disposition?"

She rolled her eyes. "I have the worst headache of my life." She said. She looked quite irritated, now that she didn't look so furious.

Jack chuckled a little. "And rightfully so. If you had actually seen the amounts of rum you consumed last night, love, you'd have a worse headache than this! Ah, but Talia probably has it worse…"

"Eh," Sarah held up a finger. "Speaking…of Talia…do you know where she is?"

"…No, why? Isn't she on the Death Lily?"

"Where did you last see her?"

"Watching her amble her way back to her ship. What's this about?"

She pursed her lips and drew herself up for a moment. Flashing a brief look of worry and confusion, she sighed. "Err, well, she's not awake and on deck…and she's not in her room…so…umm, we're not…exactly sure where she is."

Jack frowned. "…Ah. I see. And you have no idea where she is?"

"None. Could this be bad?"

"Perhaps we should search the town and look for hints or clues as to where she might have gone." His expression was that of sage-like thought, his eyes narrowed, and his hand stroking his beard. Sarah stared at him. It was creepy to watch him do that. Opening her mouth, she stood up and turned around to face him.

"Well, in that case, we should probably get going."

"Okay."

- - - - -

Talia opened one sleep-blurred eye on to a shadowy figure set on a white background. For a moment, she thought she was dead. Then, as her vision became clearer, she realized it was a man with a bright blue sky behind him. She frowned. The man was not Ryan, was not Chess, was not Jack (thank heavens), and was most assuredly not Asher or Adrian (unless she really WAS dead). Maybe it was Sarah (so Sarah wasn't a man, but Talia couldn't see well at the moment)… Finally her vision reached it's peak of quality and she realized that the man was Drew. It took a few seconds for this to sink in, what with her secondary realization of what had likely happened the night before (yeah--she had gotten VERY drunk), but when it did finally sink in, she jerked upright from where she was slouched against a crate.

"What the--!" She found, as she bolted forward, that her hands and feet were bound together. She was also tied to the crate behind her, which meant that, when she jerked up into a somewhat vertical position, she slammed backwards against the crate.

"Good morning!" An all-too-happy smile from Drew.

"Where am I!?" She demanded. At the moment, she understood no concepts except that she was tied to a crate, being stared down by Drew. And she was angry about it. At least she wasn't depressed anymore.

"Well, last night, you see, you got very drunk and stumbled home to your ship, collapsing on your bed and, at the same time, falling asleep. Jack, who was on your ship, talking Sarah him, who had fallen unconscious at the tavern, left soon after and my men and I came and spirited you away from your bed. And now, here you are, on my ship."

She stared at him. It was a lot to take in. He seemed to notice her blank expression and tried taking another approach on telling the events of the night before.

"Umm…we kidnapped you."

"YOU WHAT!?"

The crew then had the pleasure of listening to Talia spurt a lovely string of swear words that would have been comparable to an old, crusty sailor who has been sailing all of his life through vats of wet tar and has gone half insane from the unbearable, inescapable frustration. Or something like that. After that point, several of the crew members began to take on an invisible sort of demeanor, what with being scared of her.

She stayed tied on the crate that day.

- - - - -

Sarah and Jack took it upon themselves to search the town for Talia, checking in all the more likely places first (stores with good merchandise, taverns, and…okay, that's about it, but there were many stores), then checking people's houses, the jail, random clearings, and this little cave they found that was filled with lovely flowers and small animals--of course, it was only after they checked there that they realized the small animals would be dead, had Talia been there. Confused, they returned to the Death Lily to tell Ryan and Chess.

"Uh…have either of you seen Talia since I last asked?" Sarah asked. Ryan pocketed his cards and frowned. Chess, who was at the helm, raised his eyebrows and shrugged.

"Why do you ask?" Ryan asked. He looked around.

"…Because we don't know where she is."

He glanced at Chess. "She's not in her room?" Sarah and Jack shook their heads.

"Is she in the town?" Chess inquired. Another shaking of heads. "…Well that can't be good." He stepped down from the helm and took a seat on a nearby crate.

"She couldn't have been kidnapped, could she?" Jack's voice sounded doubtful--after all, it was Talia, and she was more likely to kill herself than be kidnapped. The kidnapper would never make it within six feet of the raging Captain Frost.

Ah, but they were forgetting one important thing--last night, Talia was out cold from the rum at the tavern. Not good. As soon as the group realized this, a shockwave of horror shook through them. You see, they reasoned, if the person who kidnapped her knew about her tendencies, it was almost certain that they would take extreme measures to assure that Talia couldn't break free and slaughter someone. Great.

"So what do we do?" By now, all the invisibles were paying attention. They may have been frightened by the captain, but her absence still distressed them. They, too, wanted to know the plan.

It seemed likely that the kidnapper would stay in the Caribbean, but for both ships to go to every port in the Caribbean, looking for Talia, was just plain tedious, so they decided that the ships would go solo. They'd split up the islands and check them separately. Eventually, one of the ships would have to find her, then they'd travel around to find the other ship. It sounded sort of confusing, but it wasn't.

Sarah was to travel with Jack, since that way, he'd have someone to keep him on track (also, behind the scenes, Sarah wanted to go with Jack in the first place). Each ship would leave in the morning.

They all hoped for luck, which was bound to be scarce.

- - - - -

When darkness fell about Drew's ship, stars twinkling and blue moonlight splashing about the deck, Drew approached Talia with the intent of somehow (and this was a stupid thing for him to do) feed Talia, as she was still tied to the crate.

It didn't go well. She practically bit the end off of the spoon he offered to her (with food on it, obviously). Not only that, but the fact that she was growling at him sort of drove him away. Smiling nervously, he commanded another guy to go feed her (by now, wondering if ship, herself, would rather starve). That guy wound up missing part of his hand, screaming and running around the ship.

Again, it didn't go well.

Whenever Drew tried to approach Talia, she would either lash out verbally, using large, insulting, degrading words, or she would kick bother of her bound feet forward with all the force she could muster. One unfortunate time, he did this strange thing where, reaching his hands out to her face, he proclaimed his great love for her. Her response left Drew howling in pain from the deep, deep bit mark on his index finger.

"Right! I'll just stay over here, then!" He called from just out of her kicking range. Glaring at him from her spot on the deck, she amused herself with lovely thoughts of mangling him.

Later into the night, still staring menacingly at Drew, Talia realized that (Oh yeah, her drunken sort of stupor was gone now.) she was devoid of her knives. This did not have a positive effect on her.

"WHERE ARE MY KNIVES, YOU FREAKISH, BULBOUS-HEADED, WRETCHED, WRETCH!?!?" Drew fell over.

"Uhh…we were afraid you'd use them to escape and possibly hurt someone, so we took them away." Despite how scary and violet Talia was, Drew, in his twisted little mind, felt that it was very much worth the suffering and crushing insults. Then again, only Drew thought that; the rest of his crew found her to be terrifyingly volatile and none of them would so much as look at her. It was only the first day.

- - - - -

The following morning, Jack stole Sarah (still half asleep) from the Death Lily, after wishing good luck to Talia's crew, and dragged her over to the Black Pearl. About an hour after that, they set sail for their first destination--ironically, Tortola (If you don't remember, Tortola was where Talia and Jack had made their first agreement). The trip was slow, the sky was blue, and Jack, having borrowed a deck of cards from Ryan, spent the majority of the journey playing "War" with Sarah as they spoke of destinations. The rest of the crew would have participated, but hardly any of them knew what was going on (they didn't listen to Jack and Sarah when the explained it).

Tortola hadn't changed. Actually, not at all, in a very literal sense. The group of gossiping women were still standing a little ways off from the docks, spitting poison in each other's ears, the guy who had had his eye gouged out by Talia when he cracked a pointless and stupid joke was standing outside the Flintlock Pub, an eye patch now gracing his face. Essentially, the only thing that had changed was that the Death Lily was not in the harbor. Rightfully so. This was the Pearl's stop.

Every place on the island, every little alley, every small attic, was searched for Talia (even though some places were unbelievably unlikely), but she wasn't found. They, that is, Sarah and Jack, asked every person about a red haired woman with a nasty attitude and a penchant for tossing knives, but no one knew what they were talking about. One man did mention a red haired woman, though. Unfortunately, it turned out the man was talking about his sister's best friend, who's favorite thing was feeding the birds, so she was ruled out (unless Talia had some sort of weird alter ego or split personality or something).

After a while, Sarah found herself missing Jack. She looked around the immediate area, but found no trace. That only meant one thing. Making a beeline for the nearest tavern, she entered to see Jack sitting at a table near where the bartender was standing. She stormed over and tapped him on the back.

"O-oh! Hi Sarah."

"Don't make me slap you." He cringed. "Come on." She ignored his protesting and pulled him out of his chair by the shirt. He wasn't very good at struggling, really.

Before they could reach the door, the bartender spoke up. "Uh, miss, he can't leave, he hasn't paid yet!" Sarah turned let go of Jack and stared at him. She turned to the bartender.

"Tough luck, chum," She smiled fakely at him and turned to leave again.

"Miss, I really must object--if he leaves, I'll take it to the authorities." The guy was kind of a moron, honestly. She sighed and turned on her heel. The man had a I'm-sort-of-serious-but-something-just-might-be-able-to-change-my-mind look about his ruddy face. She narrowed her eyes. "I'm serious. I will take it to them, there are soldiers just outside." No, I didn't see them, imbecile. She thought as she walked over coolly and faced him straight on. She pulled out her pistol, cocked it, and aimed it at his face.

"Listen. I know you want your money, but this is more important, aye? So shut up and go rob someone else of their wealth. And if you mention any of this to the soldiers, a swift death will most assuredly await you." She turned around, walked back to Jack, then turned once more. "Good day." She restored her pistol to a safer state and returned it to her belt, then she pushed Jack out the door.

"You are supposed to be helping me find Talia." She said calmly. Jack had a fairly hurt expression on his face. "You took on this task with me. So why were you in there?" She motioned to the tavern.

"…Aww, come on, we aren't going to find her in the next…" He paused, thinking. "…six minutes." It was almost amusing to watch him make excuses like that. It was so pathetic, it was kind of funny.

She thought for a moment. "Jack, if Talia had gone in there and dragged you out, would you be arguing with her right now?"

"No."

"And why is that?"

"Because she'd kill me if I talked back to her." Jack looked kind of afraid just thinking about it. He was probably remember her cleaver. Not fun.

Sarah smiled and stepped closer to him. "…I can be an awful lot like Talia, if I need be." With that, she turned and headed back to the ship. A few seconds later, she heard Jack's footsteps behind her. She was pleased.

They checked the map when they got back.

The next destination was Port Royal.

- - - - -

"Get away from me, you slime infested goat stomach!!" Talia screamed as Drew tried to give her food again. She was not only miserable from being near Drew for more than a day, but she was furious that he had kidnapped her in the first place. He deserved to die a most painful death.

"It's better than starving!" He replied, a hint of desperation and determination echoing in his voice. She kicked him hard in the knee, which made him fall over, shouting and trying to get up with an injured limb.

No one could seem to get her to eat, so in a final act of despondency, they cleared out the quarters of one of the crew members until it was bared, dragged Talia, still tied to the crate, down to the room, then, throwing some food in, they cut her ropes and locked the door tightly. It had only been about two days (the sun had set by the time she was in the room) and se was already a hazard to the crew.

After eating, Talia stood up and looked through the small hole that had been cut near the top of the door. She glared at anyone who passed.

Keep pushing it, Talia, and maybe they'll kick you off the ship. The thought made her happy.

It was two more days until they reached Port Royal. It seemed like less, though. To most of the crew, it seemed unlikely that anyone would come to Port Royal with a captive (seeing as it was the home of Commodore Norrington), but Sarah and Jack wanted to check, just because. Of course, when they arrived, Jack took the initiative and immediately headed over to the home of the Turners.

Why? We may never know the actual reason.

Apparently Jack didn't care that Norrington was likely to arrest him, since he was just walking out in the open. He knocked on the door and awaited an answer. Some snotty butler person opened the door and stared with a disapproving and confused look.

"Aye. Is young Mister Turner home?" Jack asked somewhat politely. The butler turned around and went up the stairs. A few seconds later, Will came down the staircase and walked over to the door.

"Jack? Sarah?"

"Will!" Jack sounded enthusiastic. "Now, you're probably wondering why I'm here, especially after I got arrested the last time I was here. Actually both times I was here."

"Actually…yes, I was. Here, come in before Norrington or one of his men spot you." Will looked around, then dragged the two pirates inside. Several servants scurried out of the room. "Okay, go ahead."

"Well…okay. You don't have Talia in here, do you?"

A long silence.

"…Why would I have Talia? She's like a powder keg and Elizabeth and I are like flames."

Another long silence.

"Sooo…d'you have her?"

"No!"

"Oh."

There was yet another long silence. The clock was ticking loudly and grating on Sarah's nerves. "Okay, Will," She finally grabbed Jack and pulled him backwards. "I'm apologizing for Jack. He has a hearing problem. And a logic one. We'll be in Port Royal for the rest of the day, so if you find out anything about our comrade, drop a line, will you?" She smiled curtly.

"Uh…okay…until then, I guess."

"Yeah."

Sarah dragged Jack out the door and into an alley. She then proceeded to scold him about wasting their time by asking someone who most confidently didn't know where Talia was. Jack was starting to see what she meant by being "an awful lot like Talia." Just without the cleaver. And the Irish accent.

They returned to the Pearl (after thoroughly searching the town, mind you, and finding nothing) to plot their next objective, which was some little island that, I can assure you, you have never heard of. It looked small. Around sunset, a visitor arrived at the ship.

"Cap'n! Will's here!" Gibbs shouted from a little way off. Next to him, sure enough, stood Will, looking patient, if not out of breath. He must have been running, for whatever reason.

"Ah! Come to confess on stealing Talia?" Jack stood and walked over. Sarah followed suit.

"No." Will rolled his eyes. "One of our maids said she saw a ship I the harbor the other day. Its deck was occupied by a red haired woman who was tied to a crate of some sort. She said the captain had blond hair and a moustache."

Sarah's eyes widened and she looked at Jack. "Drew." He nodded. "Oh many days ago?" Will shrugged and told her that he wasn't too sure. That was unfortunate, but at least they had information. After vigorously thanking Will, who then found himself on the dock and off the ship, Jack commanded the crew to ready the ship to set sail. There was still light, so they could still leave that day. The next island wasn't that far, they could reach it before the morning.

- - - - -

Talia didn't like the room much. It was small, cramped, far too warm, and all she had was a box--and the food that they put through the hole in the door.

Sitting against the wall, Talia stared at the ceiling, counting boards of wood. Some random thoughts that she continually put off began to surface, like how Jack got the Black Pearls. You see, since she had always known her uncle, Barbossa, to have the Pearl (even though, in truth, Barbossa stole the Pearl from Jack), she couldn't quite figure out how Jack got the ship. Did Jack steal it from Barbossa? Did Jack kill Barbossa (she didn't know that he did, but she suspected it)? It all seemed very convoluted. She intended to question Jack about it when she got the chance.

Before she could probe further into her wonderings, she heard a knock at the door--which was stupid, because no one could come in, they just looked in at her and talked. There was really no point in knocking. She looked over. It was Drew. What a surprise. She scraped her nails against the floor, leaving long, whitish ridges.

"Hello!" His cheerful attitude was far past annoying.

"Don't you have some dying to do?" He ignored her.

"Thought you'd want your food--" He lowered her plate, hanging from strings, to the floor, then he let go of the strings. "--and I just came to chat."

"I don't want to chat, you ninny. I'd rather you go impale yourself on a sharp thing with nails on it," She sneered. He always wanted to chat.

"Well, that's not nice. I suppose I'd be upset with me, too, though, if I were you!" He laughed. It sounded fake, but she knew it wasn't. What a weirdo. "Any rate…I thought you might possibly want to know where we're headed."

She rolled her eyes. "Why would I want to know where we're headed? It's not like I could tell someone." Drew just plain didn't think, that was his problem. Really, he just sort of said whatever and didn't think about it. She didn't even consider if he was just like that because he loved her…or whatever he did.

"Still, you might find it amusing." He smiled brightly. For once, she saw something cold in his expression. It was strange to see, since she was so used to seeing him as a bumbling fool who wouldn't leave her alone. It didn't bother her, it was just sort of quirky. "We're off to the Isla de Muerta."

- - - - -

There was absolutely nothing at the next island, the little one that no one knew existed. The residents of the Pearl stayed there for the night, then found the next place to check--Tortuga.

The journey, again, was not long. Only about two days, and possibly a half of another. When they arrived, they cut straight to the chase and searched all over for Talia. It was very nostalgic for the two of them (again, Jack and Sarah). Sarah lamented depressively over her street corner, Jack continually ran into Scarlet and Giselle, who generally slapped him on sight. This triggered being slapped by Sarah, which hurt more, since she had rings on and the two previously mentioned whores did not. Of some humor, Sarah stepped into the tavern she had always stayed at eleven years ago, and was recognized by the bartender ("Isn't he dead yet?"). At least he remembered to call her Pandora. She promised to come back after their search, with the intent of talking and updating him on her life. Actually, she didn't want to talk with him, but she said she would anyway.

The rest of the day went slowly. Very slowly. Nothing was found, not even a hint at where Drew might have been. Maybe he hadn't even stopped in Tortuga… Maybe. In any case, the search was over relatively quickly, so the two of them returned to the bartender-acquaintance of Sarah's.

Before they could begin talking about life, Sarah asked, briefly, if he had seen a blonde man with a moustache come off a ship any time lately. "You mean your friend Drew?" Sarah had forgotten that, since the man had known her, he had known Drew, as well. Nodding, she explained that she now hated Drew. The man did not seem to care all that much. "Well, yeah, I saw him. He stopped here about two days ago, maybe. He said he was headed to someplace…oh! Right, he was headed to the Isla de Muerta."

Jack twitched. Sarah grinned. "Thank you, thank you, you don't know what this means to us." She turned and dashed to the door. "Sorry we couldn't talk longer, but I gotta go!" Jack followed her through the door and back to the Black Pearl.

When the ship had been readied for sailing, Sarah turned to Jack, who was saying something to Gibbs and eyeing Mr. Cotton warily. He was pretty creepy, honestly.

"Jack, you know how to get to Isla de Muerta, right?"

He nodded and reached for his compass, the one that pointed the way to the island, but he found an empty pocket in its place. "Where did it go?"

- - - - -

The subject of destinations now intrigued Talia. That was the island her uncle had gone to in the Pearl. As soon as Drew was gone, she immersed herself in thought. So…why did Drew, the biggest moron/best actor at being a moron, want to go to the Isla de Muerta? Aside from the cursed treasure, there wasn't a whole lot there. Talia had heard that all the treasure (save the cursed) had been taken. It was likely, too. Drew didn't know about the curse…did he? Was he going there so he could be immortal? She shuddered.

Great. Immortal Drew. Now I'll never get rid of him. Unless I kill him before he can take the treasure… After all, it's not like I'd care if he was dead. Now that I think about it, probably no one would care if he was dead. She was thinking so deeply (or shallowly, depending on how you view her thoughts), that she hardly noticed the little monkey who leaped up and perched in the hole in the door. He screeched at her.

"Jack?" She turned to the monkey. Of course it was Jack the monkey! She remembered his red and white shirt, and his creepy yet sweet face always hovering somewhere near her uncle's shoulder. She loved that monkey. Jack jumped down and darted over to her, his wide-eyed face staring up at her from his crouched position.

You see, Jack (of the monkey variety) liked Talia because she was related to Barbossa. Somehow, Jack had figured out that Talia would be with Drew, so, being the clever little bugger he was, he swiped Jack's (of the Sparrow variety) Isla de Muerta compass and brought it to her. She was still unconscious when he reached Drew's ship, though, so he gave the compass to Drew. Talia must have realized all of this when the little monkey held out the compass.

She thought it was sweet. And she didn't think that often.

So, at least she had a friend on that stupid ship. Sure, she didn't understand what Jack was saying when he screeched at her or made cute little squeaking noises, but it was better than Drew. Anything was better than Drew.

The morning after that, Talia was awakened with a sharp smack over the head with something hard. When she awoke from that, she founder herself tied almost insanely tightly at the wrists and ankles. She was being carried onto the island. Oh what humiliation. She made sure to point out to Drew the cowardice of his actions (i.e., the knocking out while sleeping, the tying). Inside the cavern (complete with cursed treasure, oars from boats, and an unrecognizable-at-first-glance decaying corpse), Talia was set (oh how horrible, she was being treated like a piece of furniture) against a rock to watch the crew wander the cave aimlessly. As Drew wandered by, he stopped and watched her (again, out of her kicking reach).

"You know, I'm surprised the monkey didn't tell you where we were going." He said, with a hint of slight enjoyment in his voice. He was smiling all lovingly at her again. It was really starting to get creepy.

"…You freak, I can't speak monkey." She hissed, gritting her teeth and watching him through narrowed eyes.

He tilted his head, a new, innocent, confused sort of look now dawning on his features. "Oh…I thought everyone could…" He looked as if he wished to ponder such a statement for a while longer, so he wandered off away from Talia (and there was much rejoicing). I hope my friends are looking for me. Being tied up is bad enough, but tied up in a room with Drew is murder.

- - - - -

There was one more island for the Black Pearl to check, but, seeing as there was a good three days on the docket for traveling in order to reach the Isla de Muerta (By the way, Jack didn't need to compass to get to the island--he had memorized the location--it was just easier to find with the compass), they decided to skip it and head straight to their target.

As she sat on the deck of the Pearl, Sarah watched Jack sit and play Solitaire and tried to say what was running through her head. Every time she attempted to talk to Jack and bright it up, she would fumble and turn away. Who knew it would be so difficult…to say…

"Sarah?" He noticed her watching him. It probably creeped him out. "Something wrong?" She shook her head. No, nothing wrong--just emotional struggle, no biggie, though. "Come on, play War with me." She moved over in front of him and he began dealing the cards.

"So Jack…tell me what happened after--and why--you marooned me on that island." He laughed a little and a card slipped out of his hand. Picking it up and tucking it into the half of the deck that hadn't been dealt yet, he resumed splitting the cards.

"Well…first off, I did it because Barbossa lied to me, as I later found out. He told me that the crew was going to commit mutinee if I didn't remove you--he lied, Bootstrap told me."

"Will's father?"

"Yup. Anyway, I wouldn't have done it if it hadn't been for that, I swear." She nodded. She believed him. Hearing it made her feel better. "So…after that…we stopped at one more island to pick up a few more crew members, then we set off for, well, ironically enough, Isla de Muerta. Didn't get far, though. Three days out, Barbossa comes to me again, something new to say. See, I hadn't told the crew where the island was. Figured it didn't quite matter.

"Right, so, he comes to me an' tells me everything is in full share, which would, by default, include the location of our destination. I dunno why I believed him, since he had lied to me once before…it may have had something to do with thinking he just lied because he didn't like women, but he was trustworthy otherwise…ahh, well…anyway… Sooo…I told him. Bloody stupid thing to do, there was a mutinee that very same night. The even more ironic thing was that they marooned me on the same island that I--or rather, Barbossa told me to maroon you on. You weren't there, though--how'd you get off?"

She stared for a moment, then shrugged. She honestly had absolutely no clue. She didn't remember how she got off, she just remembered that it had happened. "You know what's weird, though…"

"What?"

"Well, Talia is Barbossa's niece, right? That's crazy, you're in a negotiation with a relative of a person who lied to you twice, then marooned you and stole your ship, and I'm working for a relative of a person who exposed me as a woman on your ship, then convinced you to maroon me." They both raised their eyebrows. "That's kind of ironic in itself."

They set a few cards, "warred" with the cards (Sarah won), then continued. "You know, I think we'll end up celebrating once we get Talia back--likely by killing Drew, which will end the negotiation," Sarah pointed out, chuckling and setting down a card.

"Probably." He laughed. "However, for now, we should relax, take load off. We'll be fighting tomorrow, we might as well lighten up." He set down his cards and stretched his arms behind his back. Sarah grinned and agreed. Leaning his head against the side of the ship, arms now resting behind his head, Jack grinned, as well. "Eat, drink, be merry--tomorrow, you might be dead!"