Author's Notes: Chapter 8, finally out. Meet another well-known character this chapter, but not one who was in the movie. ^^ You'll see…

Many thanks to ErinRua and Alex for responding to my plea for information on the Rules of Engagement; it has helped me to decide what role I want the aforementioned introduced-character to play in Jack's life, not to mention taught me something I didn't know. ^^ ErinRua:  as for ignoring you – doubtful; methinks I'll probably go back and edit this fic eventually, and I'll make sure to change the "minutes" bit in chapter 7.  Thanks for the constructive criticism! (And for listing me on your site; honored, I am!

* . *

All my other reviewers:
A. thanks for sticking around waiting for my updates

B. thanks for all the kind comments and

C. I hope you all continue to enjoy the fic!

I'm a bit of a nut about keeping as much of this fic true to not only the movie, but also real-life in the 17th century. Thus the researching of gypsies and pirates alike (keelhauling… *giggles madly* .), and the search for voyage length, sword fighting terminology (as I know next to nothing about the subject myself), etc. etc. I like to hope that I'm keeping this as historically-accurate as possible.

If anyone's got suggestions about characterization, help with making the accents sound realistic, or anything else, I'm always  glad to hear it.

And finally:

Dedication: Actually, the reason I absolutely FORCED myself to write this chapter is because I wanted it out in time for a holiday-update/Hanukkah present for Aithne (*hug*luff* me matey!), so: HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE, hope you enjoy:

Chapter 8: Of Theiving, Trickery, and Tortuga

            "Land, ho!"

The look-out's cry rang out above Jack's head, and he whipped around, braids flying, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the setting sun as he scoured the horizon.  There!  The thin line of an island had appeared over the edge of the water.  It seemed to rise from the depths of the sea like a dark sun – a semicircle in the distance, black but for those tiny dots of light that managed to cast their light far enough to be seen by the weary travelers.  Cheers erupted amongst the crew members at the announcement, and Jack felt rather than saw Barbossa appear at his side; he, too, looked out at the island, dark against a sky of flames.  The elder teen let out a wistful sigh.

"Tortuga," he murmured, and Jack cast him a sideways glance.

"Tortuga…?" he questioned.  Barbossa nodded.

"Tortuga," he repeated.  "Our home away from home."  At this second 'home', he motioned around the ship, and Jack understood in silence. The two stood for a time, watching the island's steady approach, and Barbossa placed his hand absently on Jack's shoulder.

"When we get there," he said pointedly, "Ah've got someone I want ye to meet."

"What kinda 'someone'?" Jack asked, lapsing into the speech that he had slowly been picking up.  Shifting slightly, he looked up at his friend.  Barbossa smirked and tossled Jack's hair; Jack swatted his hand away with an aggravated snort, and Barbossa laughed.

"'aven't I e're told ye about me bonny lass, Jack?" he asked, grinning broadly, traces of his laughter still evident in his eyes.  Jack blinked at him.

"You 'ave a girl waiting for you on that island?" Jack asked incredulously.  It was Barbossa's turn to scoff.

"Don't act so surprised," he retorted indignantly.  A moment later, "S'matter of fact, I do," he put in.  At Jack's wide-eyed stare, he continued, "Her name's Mela.  Italian lass – beautiful too…" he sighed, and Jack noted a slightly glazed-look had fallen over the other's blue eyes.  He grinned, despite himself.

"Y'going to marry her?" he teased.  Barbossa snapped out of his funk and shoved the smaller boy away with a sound of disgust.

"What a question to ask! Like I'd tell ye if I was…"

"You're gettin' soft on me!" Jack cried in mock-horror.  Barbossa opened his mouth as if to retort, but instead merely shrugged and turned back towards the horizon, and he grinned broadly.  "We're here."

Jack followed Barbossa's gaze across the water; the details of the island were becoming visible now.  Jack could make out the shapes of what could either be houses, shops, or taverns; he couldn't tell from the distance.  However, considering it was a pirate hang-out… he chuckled to himself.  As if in reply, a wave of raucous laughter traveled over the water to the ship.

~*~*~

            When Jack stepped onto dry-land for the first time in months, he was completely unprepared for the adjustment.  As he pitched forward, he felt someone grab him by the back of his shirt, hauling him unsteadily-upright.  Jack glanced back just in time to see Captain Harundo smirking down at him from beneath the brim of his tricorn hat.

            "Goin' tuh 'ave tuh get used t'that, Sparrow," the man chided, "else ye'll be collapsin' ev'ry time we come t'port."  With that, the captain turned and bellowed to the rest of the crew.  "Alright ye slack-jawed bilgerats! Don' jes stand there; off the ship with ye! There's ladies and rum t'be had!"

Then the captain, secure in the knowledge that Jack could stand on his own, swaggered off into the town, his crew whooping and hollering and following after him.  Jack saw Barbossa and ran to catch up with the other teen.  Barbossa grinned at him.

"Not used to solid ground, are ye?" he asked.  "Get too used tuh the rocking of th' ship… no matter, though.  It'll get easier with time," Barbossa assured him.  "Now, let's go – Cap'n's right; there's plenty tuh do in Tortuga.  Never a dull moment!"

"Where d'we start?" Barbossa grinned.

"I'd give ye the tour meself, but I've got someone t'find—"

"—Yer lover," Jack supplied helpfully.  Barbossa coughed.

"Hn. Don't call her that; she's a respectable lass, she is."

"What's she doing with a pirate, then?"

"Just shut yer mouth, you. Anyway, y'ought to go 'ave a look around on yer own. Just don't go gettin' in any fights." He paused, then pointed to a crowded-looking building on their left.  "When y'get tired of wandering around, make yer way there. Ah'll meet up with ye."

"Aye, I'll do it. Although," Jack pretended to scowl, "Ye're a pretty lousy friend, leavin' me on my own…" Barbossa snorted.


            "Come off it; ye'll be fine!"

"How d'you know? I could get shot, or drowned, or—"

"What d'you mean, how do I know? You said it yerself – you're Jack Sparrow, 'savvy?'!"  Jack couldn't help but preen.

"True enough," he smirked.  Barbossa cuffed him in the shoulder.

"Enough id'ling about; you've got yer work cut out for ye."

And with that, the friends parted ways.

~*~*~

            Jack made his way from the crowded port to the impossibly more-crowded marketplace.  He glanced around himself, taking in the sights and sounds of this 'Tortuga', taking note of certain buildings and watching the teeming mass of people.  More than just a few of them appeared to be drunk, just as Jack had expected.

            However, he took particular interest in the various venders lining the street.  In his old home, which now had become like a distant ache to him, there had never been so many things to buy.  Their market had been small; they couldn't import things, for fear of being found-out by the British.  But the market of Tortuga was overflowing with exotic food, clothing, jewelry, and people.  Jack imagined that this place must be a mixture of every culture in the world.

            As he approached a bread-vender, Jack suddenly saw a blurred figure dash off to his right, but before he could focus on the person, they'd disappeared into the throng.

            'That was odd…' he thought as he passed the aforementioned vender, the owner of which looked ready to dismember someone.  Jack scurried past, not making eye-contact with the obviously-disgruntled merchant.  As he slowed his pace, he felt the crowd around him stir strangely.  A furious voice rose over the din.

            "Stop, ye dirty rotten crook!"

            Jack looked up, blinking, at the commotion behind him; the man he'd just passed in front of the bread-vender was shaking his fist, yelling, cursing, and running – straight for Jack.  Jack's eyes widened, and he dashed into the throng of the square.  He could hear the shopkeeper tearing after him, and he fled into an alley.

            Panting, Jack leaned against the wall, listening.  The shouts of 'Ye mangy thief, I'll wring yer neck!' faded out under the din of the crowd.  Jack sighed in relief, but started once more as he heard a voice behind him.

            "Jesus bloody Christ! Bloody 'keep needs his eyes checked, I'll wager; mistakin' me for a bloody girl!"

            Jack whirled around, the beads in his hair clinking angrily.  There, behind him, perched precariously on a barrel, was a teenage boy with dark hair cropped to his shoulders and held back with a piece of string.  The boy was smirking at Jack from his position atop the barrel.  As he caught sight of Jack's face, the smirk dropped and a look of shock replaced it.

            "Good Lord! The lass is a lad! Well now…"

            "What d'ye mean, calling me a lass?! Don't you know who I am?!" Jack asked incredulously. He knew full-well that the boy HADN'T heard of him – only the ship's crew HAD – but he also knew that he needed to put on a show if he was going to beat this one…

            The dark-haired teen raised an eyebrow.  "Never seen ye around Tortuga, miss… ter."  Jack bristled.  Drawing himself to his full 5'2" height, he proclaimed, swinging his arms in emphasis, "Me name's Jack Sparrow! Remember it well, lad – ye'll be hearing it up and down the Spanish Main one day!"  To his great annoyance, the thief-child chuckled at him.

            "Will I, now? Don't look very awe-inspirin' t'me…"

Jack felt his anger come to a head; he'd suffered enough teasing from his older shipmates over the past months, and this complete stranger was cracking jokes about his looks.  Barbossa's training was fresh in his mind, and a sudden burst of over-confidence filled him.  He knew just how to take this brat off his high-horse…

Drawing his sword from its sheath, Jack brandished the weapon at the boy. "Why don't ye try t'say that when ye're missing yer tongue!"

The other 'tsk'ed at him and, hopping down from the barrel, drew a sword of his own.

"Bit brash, aren't you, Miss – pardon – MISTER Sparrow? It IS Sparrow, isn't it?" the boy asked. He sounded bored. "Shame the blighter thought y'were me; I like to think I'm more of a man than… well…" he used his sword to motion at Jack.  Jack was seething.

"Shut your mouth and fight me, if ye're such a man," he admonished.  The other merely shrugged.

"You're funeral."

At once, the two sprang forward.  The short-haired boy was, Jack noted darkly, taller than him by several inches but then again, so was his usual sparring-partner.  They traded and blocked the first few blows.  The thief seemed bothered by something.

"Who the blazes taught you how t'use a sword, Sparrow?" he asked, for a moment forgetting to taunt.

"Me best friend," Jack growled between blows and parries.  "Why?"

"Never taught ye the Rules of Engagement, did he? Your footwork is absurd!"

Confused by this statement, Jack temporarily lost his concentration, and suddenly, he found himself backed against a wall with a blade to his chest.  Panting heavily, he closed his eyes, wondering what death might feel like.  He couldn't help thinking of Barbossa's earlier words about him being fine, and a thought flit through his head: 'Told you so.'

"I'm not going t'kill you."

Jack's eyes snapped back open; the boy sheathed his sword.  "Why not? You beat me!"  The taller boy frowned.

"Consider it repaying my debt."  At Jack's confused look, the boy sighed.  "I set you up," he said, "with that vender. I waited until y'were in his vicinity, took what I needed, and ran. All right? So now we're even – you helped me, I spared you. We're square."

Jack hadn't noticed how poor the boy looked until that moment, but as the latter pulled the stolen bread from his pocket and began to devour it, Jack suddenly felt guilty for giving him a hard time.  'He probably hasn't eaten in quite some time,' he thought, watching the taller boy and noting how thin he looked.  He cleared his throat, and the other looked at him questioningly, if not slightly embarrassedly.

"I'd like t'try this again," Jack said, feeling a bit awkward.  When the boy only blinked at him, he held out his hand. "I'm Jack Sparrow; good to meet ye."  The boy smiled warmly and shook Jack's hand.

"The name's William Turner, but you're welcome t'call me Bill. Good t'meet you too, Jack."

End Notes: Whee! Another chapter, another character, and HOPEFULLY another surprise for at least some of you.

Hope everybody's well and good and NOT coming down with colds and stuff!  Have a great holiday; I'll try to get chapters 9 and 10 out over Christmas-break from school. Break… can't wait…* . *

As always: please review!