A/N: Forgive me for that hideously short chapter 10...I could have done better, but I wanted to give you at least something after the long delay. That chapter wasn't going to be a long one anyway, because I knew this one was going to have A LOT happening in it, and I've put a lot more effort into this one to compensate for the shortness of the previous one.

Cathy: Ohh, another new reviewer, I'm so happy! Thank you for your review! It'd probably be best to check back every few days since I'm quite a slow updater :P

It's more than twice as long as the others, but far more exciting. So, lay back, relax, make yourself a sandwich or hot chocolate and READ!

She sat quietly upon her small bed, looking out of her little window. The sky was a hazy, greyish purple colour, and there was a tense feeling in the air - a feeling of waiting, the sort one gets when a thunderstorm is building up in the sky above when the air feels still and unusually quiet. The atmosphere was ironic; the sky above was tense anxious, as was Lorraine. It was a warm day, and it was probably going to be a warm night if the storm passed over in time. Tonight would be the night she would announce her departure. She was going to tell the story about her having to go back to her mother, as that was the most believable and it was an easy one to improvise and add new snippets to. She would announce it a dinner, which would probably sometime soon; judging by the sun's position in the sky (even though it was cloudy, the bright blur of the sun could not be mistaken behind a particularly small, thin sheet of cloud), it was early evening, about five or six o'clock. Tonight would be her last night on this unfamiliar island known as Tortuga. She longed to stride along the main street of her hometown with a basket of food after coming back from the day's market, greeting people along the way as she walked, even if it was just a simple gesture such as a wave or a nod of the head as someone said 'hello' or 'good morning'. Lorraine also realised with a faint pang of sadness that she probably wouldn't see Jack Sparrow again. She would miss his cheerfulness and his joking around, his drunken swaying movements as he walked and that cheeky, humorous look in his deep eyes. But he had brought all of this unto himself; if he hadn't kept delaying her return to Orchila, it most likely wouldn't be this way. And the fact that he wanted her back for a reward was an insult – she wasn't going to go back to someone who would exchange her for money. It annoyed Lorraine that she could understand why he would want her back so urgently; surely she was only a burden to him during her stay on the Black Pearl?

The thought of being back on a ship made Lorraine sigh. She had been feeling ill for quite some time now, being sick every morning even though she wasn't on a ship. She knew that seasickness would come to her anyway, but added with this unknown illness...Lorraine prayed that the journey would be a swift one.

She had spent the day tidying her room, which didn't take long at all due to the fact she had no possessions with her, but she made her bed and washed her dress. It was such a shame to see such a fine piece of clothing in this state, but she knew that once she got home, her mother would be able to mend it. She was amazing with a needle, and could repair just about anything with a needle and thread; she'd be able to restore the dress to its former glory. Lorraine just couldn't stop thinking about getting back to her warm home, it had completely occupied her thoughts for the past two days, but now she was getting impatient. She prayed for time to fly by and night to come and go quickly, but everything seemed to pass by twice as slowly today. She would have to wait, whether she liked it or not, until the first shining ray of the rising sun poked out onto the world.

Lorraine busied herself for the moment with running a comb through her hair, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get her dark locks straight. She pulled and she tugged, and she dampened them with water, but nothing would work; within a few minutes the curls would return. Her hair just wasn't normal. People in the world either had straight hair, or springy, corkscrew curly hair. Lorraine's was neither. It was like someone had had a half-hearted attempt at curling her hair, and then gave up. They were basically small waves, or "bumpy and uneven, like unwanted, muddy molehills poking out of a flat field" as an affectionate chimney sweep lad once told her when he came round to her house.

She made do with combing back the front section of her hair and plaiting it to at least lessen the sight of her curls.

"Supper!" called a loud voice from the bottom of the stairs. Lorraine smiled; finally, now was the time that her plan would actually come into action.

She closed her eyes for a moment, took a deep breath and exhaled before deciding she was now ready. She pulled open her door and went out to the foot of the stairs, gazing down the narrow steps, which curved to the right towards the bottom, so that it faced across the hall to the dining room door. Lorraine confidently strode down the staircase, her hand gently sliding down the polished balustrade. She hopped across the soft rug and stood before the door of the room, blinking and swallowing. When should she tell the innkeeper, before or after they ate? After would probably be best, if she did it before, it would look as if she wanted the meal in her honour, which would seem ridiculously big-headed.

Lorraine pulled the worn door handle down and entered calmly, trying to look as if nothing was bothering her or consuming her thoughts. She smiled at Georgina and Jeanine, who whispered to each other and then giggled. They always seemed to be sitting at the table together, gossiping and sniggering at other people's expense.

Lorraine sat down at the other end of the table and helped herself to a slice of buttered bread before the main meal was served. She was starving, and was thankful that it wasn't a long wait before the innkeeper (whose name she learnt was Mrs. Thanesham) arrived with a large pot of steaming, homemade stew made with fresh potatoes and vegetables.

-

It had been a truly delicious and filling meal, and Lorraine felt warm and comfortable inside now that she had eaten properly. She had savoured every appetising mouthful, and had enjoyed the whole meal so much that she had almost forgotten about the important announcement that had consumed her mind for the past two days!

She took a long draught of her glass of water, before clearing her throat and tapping her glass to get the innkeeper's attention since she was sitting quite a distance away from her. "Uh, excuse me, Mrs. Thanesham?"

"Yes, dear? What is it?" she lifted her head to Lorraine and smiled like a mother to her daughter.

"I just wanted to tell you that this would be my last night of residing in your boarding house."

"You do know that you can stay here for as long as you like, pet, free of charge?" she assured her, even though Lorraine already knew this.

"Yes, I do, Madam, and you have been very kind in letting me do so for the past four days, but tonight shall be my fifth and final night. My mother has been very ill as of late, and the doctor recommended some herbs and plants to us, which would cure her of her malady. These particular herbs could not be found on my island, but I was told they grow in abundance upon the hills fringing the towns of the island of Tortuga. I now have all that I need, and will return to my mother at tomorrow's first light of dawn," Lorraine explained, hoping that it didn't look like she was making this all up and lying to the innkeeper's face.

"Most unfortunate news of your mother, I will pray for her recovery. Though I must ask, how is it that you will return to your island, dear?"

"I have already made arrangements, and will be boarding a ship which will be sailing past my island. The commodore told me that I would be dropped off there. It will be sailing early tomorrow morning, so I must leave at dawn." Well, that was easy enough; she didn't falter on any part of her story. Hopefully it all seemed true to Mrs. Thanesham. It was a realistic story enough, everyone fell ill at some point, and the herbs for some cures were rather difficult to find.

"Well, I wish you good luck on your journey, dear. You'd best have an early night tonight, for you will have a busy day ahead of you tomorrow." Mrs. Thanesham beckoned her to stand up as she quickly cleared away Lorraine's plate, taking it into the kitchen just next door.

The innkeeper took her to the foot of the stairs, and ushered her up, "Have a good night's sleep, Lorraine," she called as she bade her a comfortable night.

-

It didn't matter whether she had an early night or a late night, either way she still couldn't get to sleep. Everything was going perfectly according to plan, the announcement at supper couldn't have worked out better. She marvelled at the sheer smoothness of it all.

She fidgeted about in her bed; twisting and turning, yet remaining wide awake. It was getting noisy outside as the evening matured and the drunk men wandered around from pub to pub, picking up a new girl from each building they passed on their intoxicated, nomadic stumbling across the filthy cobbled streets.

"Lorraine! Lorraine! Come down here for a moment!" a voice shouted from somewhere outside her room. Was she asleep and dreaming already? Gosh, that was quick.

"Lorraine!" It was even louder that time. She blinked and looked around – still dark, still in the same bed, in the same room; nope, she wasn't dreaming.

"I'm coming!" She shouted back, bounding out of bed and rushing out of the door (she didn't have to bother with covering herself with a night robe, as she would have done at home, since she now always wore her white dress, which was all she had here). Her feet patted on the wooden stairs and as she strolled down the steps which curved to face the right, she slowed down and stopped, her hand resting on the dark mahogany wood rail. The hallway was bathed in a soft light now because of the lighted candles standing on the cupboard pushed to the side of the wall. And there, standing on the rug in the middle of the hallway infront of the staircase, looking up at Lorraine, was Jack Sparrow.

Lorraine could feel her stomach plummet, and her breath seemed to have been sucked out of her very being. She stood blinking in disbelief as she stared down at the man with the lopsided grin and smug glint in his dark eyes.

"What are you doing here?!" she gasped incredulously, seriously wondering if she really was still in the land of nod, lying in her bed upstairs, just having one of those dreams where it all seemed so real at the time.

"I've come to pick you up, darlin'." He replied calmly, as if it was a completely reasonable question in this circumstance. This was far too uncomfortably realistic to be a dream.

"Looks like you'll be leaving earlier than you first thought, dear." It was only then that Lorraine noticed Mrs. Thanesham standing just a few feet away from Jack, smiling innocently. "Come, come now, I've got other things to attend to before the end of this night." Lorraine simply stared at her. How could she? How could she do this to her! The scheming, traitorous goat!

The innkeeper made her way past Jack and went up part of the stairs to Lorraine, grabbing her shoulders and gently trying to coax her down to the waiting captain. She would have resisted, but she suddenly felt so weak and overcome with this abrupt change.

She was pushed down the remaining stairs and into Jack Sparrow, who grabbed her roughly by the arm and pulled her into his side. His strength worried her and made her feel wary of him as his large hand gripped her bare shoulder tightly. She shuddered with his touch on her skin, and she wanted to be free of his grasp and run away to somewhere where she would be safe, where someone could just hold her and tell her that everything would be alright. His aura was different somehow, she didn't know why, but she actually felt scared of him now. His presence was more menacing and predatory.

She stared helplessly at the innkeeper; she thought she was safe with her! Why did she have to be betrayed in such a way! Lorraine wanted to scream and shout in frustration as Jack fished out a large coin from his pocket and handed it over to Mrs. Thanesham, who grabbed it quickly out of his hand and greedily rubbed the money with her thumb and forefinger. "Nice doing business with you, Mr. Sparrow," she crowed appreciatively as she pocketed the shining coin.

"You are most certainly welcome, ma'am," Jack replied, taking his tri- cornered, worn leather hat off with his free hand and bowing his head slightly.

Jack turned to leave, dragging Lorraine along with him, as Mrs. Thanesham rushed to the front door and opened it for him, grinning like the money-hungry witch she was. Suddenly this innkeeper didn't seem all so motherly and loving after all.

The two stepped outside onto the street and the door was closed behind them. Lorraine was silent, but she could feel tears forming in her eyes. How did the innkeeper know who she was? She was 'Rebecca' in that inn; she had managed to trick Georgina and Jeanine by convincing them that she was not 'Lauren', or 'Lorraine' as they had probably meant to say. The description of her that had been going around was incredibly vague and inaccurate; surely Mrs. Thanesham hadn't depended upon that to discover whom she was?

Jack leaned in towards Lorraine and she could feel her body tense in his closeness, he pulled a few strands of her curly hair away and whispered into her ear, "You've had quite a shock, haven't you? What d'you say to a drink, aye?"

They walked down the main street, and Lorraine found it unnerving the way Jack clutched at her so. His arm was strong and heavy as it hung on her shoulder and across her chest, and his familiar scent of rum, salt water and the aroma of one who has spent all day outside basking in the sun hovered around them.

-

They stopped infront of a noisy tavern which had a large, painted sign of a now less-than-white seagull gliding over a shimmering silver-grey fish poking its head out of a sea of murky blue and green hanging from its wall.

"Welcome, to The Fish and Gull..." Jack proclaimed proudly as he gazed at the building from top to bottom in admiration. Lorraine just kept her head turned to the side so that she wouldn't have to meet his eye while she scowled and angrily tried to think over how her identity could have been revealed. If only it could have held out for one more night, just one more bloody night! Was that really too much to ask for? Apparently, yes. Oh, condemn it all to a painful and fiery eternal damnation!

Jack actually released her for once as he made to open the door, and Lorraine wasn't prepared to let every chance she had from now on slip away, so she darted. As soon as his back was turned, she leapt past the pub and (luckily) managed to jump clear over a fallen barrel in the street. But, unluckily, it slowed her down, and Jack was soon right behind her. He gripped her wrist and yanked her back without much effort. "Now love, you don't want to be doin' that again." He told her without much heaviness in voice. Lorraine had always expected a telling off to consist of stern voices and harsh words, but this got the message across just as clearly, even if it didn't sound threatening at all. Jack simply held her hand tightly as he led her back to The Fish and Gull, this time pushing open the door with a single hand.

As soon as they entered, many of the pub's occupants looked up at Jack as if he was some important man of legend, gazing at him silently for a moment or two before trying to coax him over to their table, waving their hands and calling his name, offering him free drinks.

The man himself stood still for a few seconds, absorbing the glory and attention before he touched his hat and swaggered (with Lorraine stumbling after him) down to the bar, where he was given a large mug of some foul smelling drink which she could only guess was rum.

He chose to sit down at a side table, which was already rather full of drunken occupants waving their tumblers of alcohol at him, the liquid sloshing about and spilling onto the floor and the ragged clothes of some.

He found a seat in the middle of the group as Lorraine stood on the outside of the circle, quite clearly realising that there was no longer any space for her. Jack smiled cheekily at her and motioned for her to come over to him. She glared daggers at him, but as she glanced over the other sleazy lot of men sitting around the captain, she decided that she would probably be safest sitting upon his lap than anyone else's in this pub.

So, reluctantly, she squeezed through the cluster of wooden chairs and side sofas surrounding the small round table laden with mugs of drink over to Jack. She gave a small gasp as he put his hands around her waist (which she found a most rude and disrespectful act for a young lady such as herself), and lifted her up onto his lap so that she sat sideways. She brushed her hands across her long skirts to try and dismiss the embarrassment that the men's laughter were causing her.

Lorraine soon realised as she glanced over at the other clustered groups in the pub that there were several young ladies (her age and older) perched upon men's laps. The difference between her and them was the fact that they looked the part and suited that particular position. Although low, square shaped necklines on a dress were fashionable (the very dress Lorraine was wearing was made so), the girls in this pub wore them in the most insolent manner, they wore it so low! Their breasts were close to spilling out over the top of the material, which they didn't seem to mind at all, and neither did the goggling men around them. It was disgusting.

Three of the men around their table (not including Jack) also had young women sitting on their knees as if they were important accessories.

Well, Lorraine's wanted to not fit in as much as possible. She didn't want to blend in with the other girls here at all. So, Lorraine sat up as straight as she could with her hands together upon her lap, her head held high and her expression as one of superiority. Yes, this should make Jack feel embarrassed, it would make him look out of place and stand out for all the wrong reasons, in this particular place anyway.

"'S a righ' little madam you've got for yerself there, Jack!"

Lorraine swivelled round with looks to kill whoever had dared to make fun of her! It was a fat, greasy man who was now slapping his thigh with laughter, his fellow mates joining in with him. She crossed her arms stubbornly with an angry 'hmph!' as she turned away from the laughter.

Jack allowed himself a quiet chuckle; this girl was so amusing to watch. She was a stubborn lass, but quite weak underneath her thin barrier, so it was easy to control her to do his liking.

"Ye always did like them wild ones, cap'n!" a slurred voice snorted behind a goblet.

"An' it ne'er takes ye long t' tame 'em!" garbled a dishevelled man after choking on his ale.

"Aye..." murmured Jack unassumingly as his deep, thoughtful eyes met Lorraine's in an almost apologetic way.

She felt part of her anger for him immediately die away as his beautiful, intense eyes held onto hers with a look of sympathy that just couldn't be refused.

That sweet moment soon ended when someone shouted out, "I'll bet anyone ten shillings that she'll 'ave been tamed within two days! Actually, take that back, it's too late, this one's so easy she's been tamed within a few minutes!" There was an almighty roar of laughter and Lorraine could feel herself redden with humiliation. "I'd have thought that this one would 'ave at least lasted a bit longer! Wouldn't you, Jack?" the same person continued and Jack, for once, actually looked a bit uncomfortable. Whether it was an act or not, she couldn't tell, but what annoyed Lorraine was that he had used his 'charm' on others, as well as her. He had probably won over several girls who had at first felt unsure whilst sitting on his lap by using his captivating eyes to create an apologetic look. Well, it wouldn't work on her from now on!

-

The men carried on with their drunken talk, occasionally making a remark about Lorraine when their topic of conversation turned back to women, before they exchanged stories (which were almost certainly fiction) about all sorts of adventures that they said they had been on. But, most elaborate of all stories were the ones that Jack told.

"And I told 'im that I'd bet my very own ship on the fact that I'd be able to bed more woman than he could by tomorrow morning. So, arfter we bought each other a round of drinks, finished off and shook hands, we both went our separate ways for the night. I, of course, had several willing birds pining after me," he paused for a moment and grinned at what Lorraine could only guess were his 'memories' as the listeners could be heard to murmur sarcastic things such as 'yeah, right' or 'I'm sure, of course'. "Anyway, I found one jewel and had her by the end of the night. I wasn't in the mood for parting with too much of me plunder that night, so I left it at that."

"I highly doubt that!" someone exclaimed, laughing. Several of his mates agreed with him.

"Ah, ah, ahh," Jack tutted, "you obviously don't know Captain Jack Sparrow as well as you should..." he countered provocatively. "I didn't allow myself to come across any other tavern-girl for the rest of the night, although, unlikely how it may seem, I knew that Hockwre would manage to bed more than me that night. But I knew I'd come up to be better off than him," he said sneakily, tapping the bridge of his nose with a forefinger.

Everyone else seemed confused, and couldn't quite understand how Jack could pull out of this particular circumstance victorious. However, they were eager for him to continue his story, and remained quiet and attentive.

"So, we met again inside the tavern the next morning, Hockwre looking rather pleased with himself. We sat down, and I asked him 'How many?', he looked unsure, but replied by saying 'Six'. 'Hmm, that's a lot. Quite a feat for one short night, I must say,' I says to 'im, bein' careful to make sure he didn't know whether I was being sarcastic or simply accepting I had achieved fewer than he and lost," he went on, gripping his audience's attention even more, "So he asks me 'And you? How many?'. I tells him 'One'. He laughs loudly and says 'One?! The famous Jack Sparrow only managed one?!' he laughed and he laughed, while I just sits there and smile happily. He gets annoyed and asks me why I'm grinning like an idiot, 'Wot you smiling for? You've just lost ye ship!', and I just tell 'im that my one was worth more than his six. He says that can't be, it doesn't work. But then I told him my one was 'is missus!" Jack revealed haughtily.

An intake of breath could be heard among his audience as they listened on, grinning gleefully at this juicy story.

"He roared and lifted 'is fists and tried to give me one, but I ducked down an' ran. He chased me through the pub with a wooden chair in his hands and running like a raging bull in between the tables an' all the people standin' aroun'. I went for the door and then sped around the corner outside. I found this empty barrel and put it righ' infront of the door, an' he comes runnin' wiv 'is wooden chair an' all, trips over the barrel an' knocks 'imself out. An' I jus' says to 'im, that's Captain Jack Sparrow." He finished his story proudly among the cheers and applause of his listeners, finishing his mug of rum with a grin plastered on his face.

"Oi, oi, Jack! 'ave another rum, on me!" were the words of most of the men in general who had heard Jack's furtive story of trickery and escape.

Lorraine didn't know whether to believe the tale or not – it certainly sounded like something that Jack would do.

"Ye sly dog, Jack!" commented the bartender who had also been listening to the story from where he had been serving.

"Always 'ave been able to 'ave your way wiv women, always will!" remarked another heartily.

"Aye!" Jack replied, nodding his head.

Lorraine was having trouble keeping her balance on Jack's lap as he laughed and moved about, but as he picked his now filled mug with his free left hand, his right, which was supporting her back, rubbed up and down her sides gently. She felt goosebumps all over body. He placed his drink down upon the table once more and his free hand rested upon the hem of her dress, near her ankles. He slowly managed to slide his hand underneath the rim and run his hand up part of her leg before Lorraine's eyes became as wide as saucers.

"SCOUNDREL!" she screamed, terrified. She swatted his hand away and leapt off his lap and out of the crowd. She ran out of the tavern, pushing aside the person who was just about to leave through the door, and scampering across to lean on the wall of the building next door so that she couldn't be seen from the tavern's windows. Lorraine was hysterical; she was trembling and tears were running down her face. She felt so dirty and repugnant. She hadn't noticed that the whole tavern had now gone silent after her scream.

She slid to the floor, her arms wrapped defensively around her body as she sobbed in the street. Why did she trust him as much as she did? Why did she allow herself to forgive him after every little thing when he didn't even deserve it? Had he been gaining her trust just so that he could use her like all those other women he had met? Like the women in all his stories? The women he paid for their physical love? Eugh, how sickening and abhorrent.

Suddenly, someone grabbed her firmly by the shoulder and hauled her up to her feet. She was just about to shriek when a hand was clamped across her mouth. She couldn't see who it was because her eyes were closed so tightly in fear.

She was dragged into the cold alleyway separating the tavern and the building she had been leaning against next door, her feet grazing on the rough cobbles, and then painfully pushed against the damp wall.

Lorraine opened her eyes and the hand was removed from her mouth. "I wouldn't scream again if I were you, love." It was Jack.

It was then that she noticed, even in this murky darkness, the gleaming blade just a mere hair's thickness from her throat. It was then that she truly felt ultimate fear. With a flick of the knife, Jack could do away with her quite easily, and she'd be dead within a few minutes. But would he really do such a thing? Well, he was a pirate, and she didn't know what hideous things he was capable of.

"You had better watch what you say from now on, Miss Tyne, for if you cause me any more grief, such as what you have just done, you will find yourself in very, serious trouble..." he told her in that unique telling off tone of his, but this time, it truly was threatening.

He pushed the blade against her throat and she was waiting for the blood to trickle down, but the sharp pain never came, and she realised that it was the blunt edge pushing against her skin.

"Y-y-y-es, I-I-I promise, I won't do it again, I p-promise. R-really, j- just please, please don't...don't..."

"Don't what?" he teased, the cruel villain. He knew very well what she was trying to say!

She couldn't bring herself to say the words, even though they were flying about clearly at the front of her mind, and she whimpered and closed her eyes, just wishing to be released from this unbearable feeling of terror and uncertainty.

"Well? Are you going to apologise or..." he smirked and tiny light flickered in his eyes as his lips ran hot down her neck and along her shoulder.

Lorraine wondered if she had ever felt more of an urge to scream than before now, and she most certainly would have done so, at the top of her lungs at that, if it hadn't been for the knife blade still hovering at her throat.

"Or do I have to wrench it out of you some other way..." he murmured in a sinister way as he thrust her against the wall, pushing her up it with malicious intent.

Why was this happening? Why was he doing this to her? He was the very person who had saved her from this in the first place! Why did this world have to be so cruel to her all of a sudden?

Jack, needless to say, didn't take the situation as seriously as Lorraine. He actually found it rather odd the way she was reacting to this. Wasn't she supposed to be pushing him or kicking him or something? Or scream or slap him? Maybe she wanted it?

"Please! Don't do this, please..." she whispered desperately, hoping that he at least had some shred of mercy somewhere deep within his soul, if he even had one.

Jack stepped back so that she slid back down to her feet. Her legs felt as if they were made of jelly, not bone and muscle, and she swayed over and almost fell, but managed to hold onto a tower of wooden boxes nearby to stop her from collapsing.

"Please, I want to go home..." she murmured in between her sobs. Jack didn't reply, but gently scooped her up from her feet and carried her away.

-

She had fallen asleep in his arms, and he could feel her rising and falling chest against his own. He held her for a moment longer, observing the way her hands curved as she slept and the way her brows furrowed slightly as she was moved and laid onto the bed.

He threw the cover over her, slightly discontented with the fact that he hadn't been able to have her this night after all his hard work, finding her and all that.

Oh well, there were always others.

Jack slept in a chair on the other side of the room, and soon fell asleep himself, murmuring about the Black Pearl and rum occasionally throughout his slumber.

I don't know whether I like this chapter or not, even though I wrote it :P

Since this is a very controversial chapter, I desperately need to know if you like this Jack or not, because I have to decide whether to keep him like this for the next chapter, or whether to just blame it on his 'drunkeness'. It's so utterly important, please tell me in your review, or e-mail me because without your input, there'll be no Chapter 12! So get reviewing!

- Moonshiner