Hello ye scurvy bilge rats ;) Heres another one for Davey Jone's Locker. Thank you for the reviews does happy jig

Bonny crouched in the alley to the side of the modest muse, trying to coax the map to burn. She held her breath and touched the candle to its side. A thin line of flame licked at the papery edge, then slowly spread towards the centre.
Suddenly a stream of water gushed above her head and put the flame out. Bonny went rigid, her heart palpitating in her throat.
"Get up and turn around." She thought she would be relieved at Jacks voice, but no. He sounded as if he was repressing the urge to drown her. She stood carefully, her arm pressed to her side, and stared up at him, genuine guilt etched across her face.
"Hey Jack," she said in little more than a whisper.
His brows were raised so high they touched his bandanna. He seemed torn between anger and confusion; his head was tilted to the side, his arms outstretched in a bemused question.
She held up a hand. "Now, before you react the way I think you will, just let me explain."
"How do you know how I'll react," he growled, piercing her with dark eyes.
"Jack?!"
He crossed his arms with a jingle of bracelets and waited for her to speak.
She couldn't think of anything to say. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish. 'Think of something, think of something...' she hissed inwardly. Damn brain was too fogged with rum.
"I ...um..."
Jack shook his head and stepped towards her, his eyes black and unreadable.
Stepping back, she panicked. "Wwww www wait! Before you-"
He grabbed her around the waist and threw her over his shoulder. She wimpered as her side screamed in pain.
He began to stride away from the tavern and into the night.
"Jack!" She yelled, muffled by his shirt. "Let me down! Please!" The ground was spinning above/below her head. Her stomach seemed to be dropping into her knees. She groaned.
"Jack! I'm going to be sick!"
He gave a deep chuckle. "If you think I'm believing anything you say again..."
The ground danced a merry jig in Bonnys vision and she passed out.

Loud groans woke Bonny from her stupor. She mumbled shut up, before she realised she had been making the noise. She put a hand to her head. It was thumping, she thought wincing at the effort. Her whole body ached, especially her head. Plus her stomach seemed to be spinning inside her body. Not to mention the searing pain in her side. It felt like she was lying on wood. She froze.
"What the-"
She was lying on wood. Her hand patted about, trying to find out where she was. Wooden floors, she discovered. Slight swaying-a ship. Unless that was just her head again.
More questing found metal of some form. Bars. She felt pleased with this deduction. So she was on a ship, lying on the floor and there were bars around her. She relaxed. Then sat bolt upright. She opened her eyes and groaned again. It was bright. There was light. Painful light. Shielding her suddenly sensitive vision, she stared around her. So she was in the brig on the pearl.
Something was trying to get her attention. Something she should remember, but her mind was rebelling. She tried to scratch her head, and found something else there. She panicked slightly, then discovered it was a hat.
"Jacks hat," she realised. She looked down. "Jacks coat?" She couldn't understand why she was wearing them. Unless she had become Jack in her sleep somehow? No. Stupid idea. She yawned widely and groaned again.
"Don't remember you hitting your head." A voice said sounding amused.
She frowned. "Jacks voice?"
"Yes love. Jack's voice, Jack's coat and Jack's hat."
She licked her dry lips. "Why am I wearing these?" she asked, still not able to focus beyond her nose.
"Good question. A better one would be why are you in the brig?"
She frowned. "Why am I in the brig?"
"Lets see. Intoxication, insubordination, thievery, lying, personal and physical attacks, destroying valuable artifacts, anarchy...any of this sounding familiar,eh?"
Last night came flooding back. She jumped to her feet, swayed, and grabbed hold of the bars.
"Oh god! Am I badly injured?"
"Love, you have what we call a hangover. I sincerely doubt its fatal."
She opened her eyes fully and stared at Jack. He was standing outside her cell, his arms laced through the bars.
"What happened?" She croaked.
He sighed and handed her a tankard of water through the bars.
"Darlin', God only knows what goes on in that frazzled head of yours."
He watched her gulp half of it before commenting, "Its probably best you don't drink it too fast. Won't make your stomach any better."
She groaned and threw the tankard at him. It hit the bars, spilling whatever was left. Bonny sagged back to the ground and put her head in her hands.
"How did I get here?"
"That would be me. I had to cart you like a limp rag. Had the watch after me for suspected murder. Took them long enough to realise you were still alive. Barely."
The rest of the night flashed back into her mind, and she jumped to her feet again.
"Jack, where are we? Have we left Tortuga?!"
He peered at her closely. "We left it four hours ago. I wanted to wake you for work but Gibbs protested. Seems to have taken a shine to you." He narrowed his eyes mischievously and muttered. "Can never account for taste."
"No no no!" She slammed her hands against the bars, then doubled over in pain. Jack was inside and at her side in an instant, his brows meeting in concern.
"What is it?"
She pushed him away and turned her back to hide her grimace. "Its nothing. Too much rum."
"Good. Then you can start work immediatly."
"What!" Bonny spun around to glare at him. He smirked and stepped towards her.
"A blind bilge rat could see you're in pain love. Let me see." He moved her arm away from her side, ignoring her protests. He pushed aside his coat and saw the blood still seeping from her wound.
"Thats a knife wound." His eyes met hers with a dark look. "Where did you get that?"