Disclaimer: As much as I wish I owned the dashing Captain Jack Sparrow, I only own him through owning the movie and a few internet pictures. Therefore, suing me is of no use.

AN: Well, it looks like I wasn't able to finish this story before my vacation ended, but I promise that I will finish it no matter what. Now I present to you: chapter nine!

Chapter 9: More Emotions and Old Enemies:

Third Person POV:

The kiss shared between Angela and Jack had caused a bit of awkwardness between the two. After they had broken apart, the two of them spent a moment analyzing their feelings for one another.

In her mind, Angela was unsure about loving the pirate captain. She didn't know whether he cared more for her magical abilities or for the person she actually was. What Angela feared the most was that he preferred the former to the latter. Still, she now knew of his feelings towards her, and knew there would be some serious conversations happening soon.

Meanwhile, Jack was experiencing an inner turmoil as great as Angela's. He had sworn to himself that he would never fall in love or stay true to one woman, and yet here he was, kissing and loving a wonderful, caring female that seemed to belong by his side. As he closely examined his feelings, Jack knew that he cared very deeply for this woman, witch or not, and was willing to do whatever it took to make her see how much he cared about her.

Angela's POV:

After several silent minutes of staring at each other, contemplating their feelings, Angela felt she had to break the silence enveloping them.

"Jack," she whispered. His eyes snapped up to meet hers. Looking into his eyes, she continued on. "What happens to us now?"

His brown eyes blinked at her. "What do ye mean, luv?" he asked, looking at her in puzzlement.

Angela slowly licked her lips, suddenly nervous about their conversation. Meanwhile, she could see Jack's eyes drop to her lips, staring as she moistened them with her tongue. This caused her to roll her eyes in a mixture of amusement and annoyance.

"Jack!" she said, snapping her fingers in front of his eyes. "My eyes are up here!" she said, emphasizing her words by pointing. She saw him blush a little before once again meeting her gaze. Hiding her annoyance, she continued with their conversation. "Seriously, Jack, what do we do now? I doubt that the crew would approve of our...feelings for one another."

Jack frowned. "Darling, what my crew approves or disapproves of doesn't matter," he said sternly, reaching out and grabbing her small hands with his rough ones. "I would still care about ye no matter what they said."

"But they're your crew, Jack, and you depend on them! You can't just pretend that their opinions don't matter!" Angela exclaimed in surprise. She then looked away from his face, hesitant to touch the next question on her mind. "And Jack, what about..."

He released one of her hands and hooked her under the chin with his forefinger, forcing her to look at him. "What about what, luv?" he whispered, softly caressing her chin.

Angela once again avoided his eyes. "I know about your fondness for women, Jack," she whispered. "How do I know if what you feel for me is real or a need for a nighttime companion?"

She sat in silence, both eager for and dreading his answer.

Jack's POV:

He was silent as he considered what she had said, trying not to feel offended by her words. It was true that he had a way with women, particularly with the prostitutes in Tortuga. However, those were only for pleasure and to release pent up sexual energy from long voyages at sea. Other than wanting to satisfy his needs, no other feelings had been involved in any of these one night stands.

"Luv, no matter what ye may think of me, I have more feelings for you in my small finger than I had in my whole being while with those other women," he said sternly, gently reaching out and taking hold of her face with his hands, forcing her to look him in the eye. "Those other women were for a night of 'pleasurable company,' nothing more." That was when he realized what a good position he was in.

Suddenly realizing that he had an advantage here, Jack began caressing his love's face with his fingers, smirking as she closed her eyes and enjoyed his touch. His confidence growing, Jack continued to caress her face, including her chin, her lips, and her neck, where the amethyst and black pearl choker rested. He then leaned forward and kissed her lips, enjoying their smooth softness. He moaned softly, feeling that he could get used to kissing this woman every day for the rest of his life.

As they broke away, she spoke. "Jack," she whispered so as not to ruin the moment. She blinked a few times before looking up at him. "It's all a bit too sudden and fast for me, Jack," she said, sighing. "Maybe we should wait until after we find the Heron's treasure to sort things out between us."

Jack attempted to hide his disappointment. "Alright, luv," he said. "We'll wait until after we find the treasure before talking about us." He gave her a quick smirk before wrapping his arms around her waist. "One last thing, though." Leaning forward, he gave her a quick, passionate kiss before pulling back and releasing her. "There; hopefully that'll hold me over until later. Now, what do ye say to dinner?"

At her nod, the two of them stood up and walked downstairs to dinner, each having the other's arm around their waist.

Meanwhile, elsewhere in Tortuga:

A New POV:

As his shabby figure raced through the chaotic streets of Tortuga, Philip Harris couldn't help but think of the information that he had overheard in the Golden Flower Inn and Tavern. His captain, Joseph Flint, would be very interested in the doings of his old enemy, Jack Sparrow. Hopefully, this information would get Philip in Captain Flint's good graces; he might even get a reward in the form of gold or position as first mate!

Climbing the gangplank onto Flint's ship, the Red Horizon, Philip raced to the Captain's cabin, pausing in front of the door before knocking. Wanting to look his best, he quickly tried to smooth his limp, grimy brown hair back and wiped his face with a dirty handkerchief, nervousness filling his faded brown eyes. After a few swift knocks on the door, he waited for a response from within. Upon hearing the call to enter, Philip slowly opened the door and cautiously entered the cabin.

A tall man of late middle age sat at a mahogany desk in the center of the cabin. This front part was Flint's office, his sleeping quarters in a room behind it. This arrangement forced everyone, crewmates and possible assassins alike, to go through two sets of doors to get to Flint, if he was resting. His office was plainly decorated, with several lit lamps along the walls for light. There were three chairs for guests and one behind the desk, all made of the same mahogany. There were grey velvet cushions on the seat of the chairs and on the armrests of the captain's chair, but the others held no armrests. All of Flint's furniture pieces were plain, with no carvings or decorations to make them elegant. In fact, the furniture seemed to reflect the man behind the desk, who was currently glancing over some maps and making the occasional mark or two on certain islands.

Joseph Flint's tastes, personality, and looks did indeed reflect in the plainness of his office. He had a square face, with steel-grey eyes set under black eyebrows. His thick, gray-streaked, black hair was pulled into a ponytail at the back of his head, and his plain outfit of white linen cloth, brown pants, and brown boots made him appear solemn and flat. One would definitely say that Flint was a very unremarkable man. However, appearances could be deceiving, as people soon found out. As Philip stood in front of the desk, those cold grey eyes taking a quick look up before returning to the maps.

"Yes, what is it, Phil?" the Captain asked in a bored tone of voice.

"Uh, Cap'n Sparrow is in port, sir," Philip stuttered in his rough voice, his eyes looking down at the ground. Flint hated it when his crewmembers looked him in the eye; he thought of it as a sign of insubordination. "He's got this lass with him, and I heard them talking about the Heron and its treasure."

Captain Flint looked up sharply at his crewman. "Look at me," he ordered; Phil obeyed. "You're sure about this? If this is some way to get on my good side, Phil..."

Philip hurriedly shook his head. "No, sir!" he said, his eyes wide in alarm. "I just heard that he was in the Golden Flower with some wench of his. Seems as though Sparrow's lass was able to help him find the Heron somehow, and they'll be leaving to find it soon. All we need to do is follow Sparrow or find out where it is, and the treasure is ours!" Silence greeted this information. A moment later, his captain spoke.

"Excellent work, Phil," Flint said, leaning back in his chair. "Keep an eye on Sparrow and this lass of his. When the time is right, bring me the girl. I want to have a talk with her."

"Aye, sir," Phil said, exiting the room, closing the door behind him as he headed back into town.

Angela's POV:

After a lovely dinner for two, Jack and Angela had retired to their room, Jack carrying about four bottles of rum in his arms. Angela couldn't help but chuckle when she saw him trying to juggle the bottles and try to open their door at the same time.

"Need a little help, Captain?" she teased, violet eyes sparkling at him.

He gave her a frustrated look. "Aye, that would be helpful," he sarcastically remarked, jerking his head at the doorknob.

Angela shook her head in amusement as she opened the door, letting Jack follow her in before closing the door behind him with a swift kick. As he carefully set his rum down on his bedside table, Angela returned her table to its proper place. The basin was missing, so a maid must have come in and removed it while they were at dinner. After replacing the table, she saw Jack reclining on his side of the bed, already nearly through his first bottle of rum. That didn't really surprise her; what did surprise her was the fact that Jack was frowning at her for some reason.

"Is something wrong, Jack?" she asked, looking down at him from beside the bed.

"Aye, there's something that's been bothering me for a little while," he said, looking her up and down before sitting up straight on the bed. "The problem is that ye've been wearing the same dress for two days in a row, and it's time ye got a new one!" He immediately reached for his money pouch, pulling out three gold coins. After crawling across the bed to get to her, he took her hand and placed the money in it. "Now, why don't ye go and buy yerself something nice?"

Angela's eyes widened in shock. "Jack, I couldn't!" she exclaimed, trying to hand back the money. "You've spent more on me these two days in Tortuga than anyone has in my whole life! Besides, I don't need anymore clothes."

Jack simply waved his hand dismissively at her. "Don't worry about it, luv," he said, finishing off the bottle of rum. "Now, be good and get something pretty, aye? I want to see ye model it for me." He winked at her before starting on his second bottle of rum.

Angela sighed before pocketing the coins. "You are the most stubborn pirate I've ever met," she said, smiling slightly at him. "Are you sure it's safe for me to go out by myself?"

Jack frowned in thought. "Only if ye don't go far," he replied. "There's a dress shop next door. I heard that they have good bargains, and it isn't far, so you should be safe."

Angela nodded before turning to leave. "I'll be back soon!" she said as she closed the door behind her.

An hour later:

After shopping around the White Satin dress shop next to the Inn, Angela had finally found something. It was a lovely, deep blue velvet over an off- white under-skirt. White lace was clustered at the elbow-length sleeves and trimmed the edges of the dark blue bodice and the collar, which showed very little of her breasts. Silver designs were embroidered onto the dark blue bodice and along the lower edges of the gown. It was a beautiful piece of work, and at the price of two gold coins, it was, Angela's opinion, a bargain. With one gold coin left, Angela decided to look around for a ribbon shop while her new gown was delivered up to the room in the Inn. As she left the dress shop, she never saw the man come up behind her. The next thing she knew, everything was fading into darkness.

Still Angela's POV:

Angela groaned as she regained consciousness. She was lying on a hard wooden surface (most likely a floor), her head ached a little, and she felt her stomach heave a bit. A heavy hand on her shoulder caused her to jump in alarm.

"This'll help with yer head and stomach," said a squeaky voice, and a cup was placed at her lips.

Taking a whiff of the stuff, Angela recognized some of the herbs used in it, and took a sip, but didn't swallow. As the taste coated her tongue, she analyzed what was being used. After a moment of going over the list, she recognized a particular herb that induced truthfulness, and spat the brew out. Cursing came from the squeaky voice, as well as from a few others.

As her headache slowly cleared away and her stomach settled, Angela opened her eyes completely. She was indeed on a wooden floor in an enclosed cabin/office, and there were three men in the room with her. One was tall, but a little hunched over, and had grimy hair and faded brown eyes. Another was a small, mousy person with limp hair and pale blue eyes. Both these men wore raggedy clothes and worn boots. The final man was tall and plain, with graying black hair, grey eyes, and black brows. However, in a white linen shirt, brown pants, and brown boots, he was better dressed than the other men. Although this made him look like an ordinary man, he carried himself with an air of cold arrogance. As she looked him over, Angela realized that this man was in charge of the situation.

"Who are you?" she asked, looking around in anger and panic. "What do you want? Where am I?"

"I'm Captain Joseph Flint of the Red Horizon," he said, looking down at her. He then waved his hand at the short man, who scampered out the door, leaving the herbal cup on the floor by her right hand. The other man closed the door and stood in front of it, preventing any form of escape. Captain Flint smiled down at her.

"So, you're Captain Jack Sparrow's new wench, eh?" he asked, looking her over. "Not bad."

Angela glared up at him. "Do not call me a wench!" she snapped at him. "I'm no man's wench!"

"Indeed," Captain Flint said, grinning at her. "I have to admit that you're a fine woman, though." He began scanning her up and down slowly, taking in her looks. "What is a fine woman like you doing in the company of Jack Sparrow, anyway? You don't look like one of his regular wenches."

"I told you, I'm no man's wench!" Angela yelled, jumping up, causing the contents of the cup to spill all over the floor. "What is it you want from me?"

Captain Flint began walking around her, apparently trying to intimidate her. However, one look at her angry purple eyes showed that she wasn't going to go down without a fight. He smiled down at her, his six-foot-tall frame giving him a distinct advantage over her five-foot-something frame. Pausing in front of her, he took her chin in his right hand, getting a better look at her.

"You have unusual eyes, lass," he said, looking over her face. "And such delicate skin, too." His thumb coasted over her chin. "Now I see what Sparrow sees in you."

"That's Captain Sparrow!" Angela snapped at him, defending the man she cared deeply for.

Flint's eyes narrowed in anger. "Ah, I see he's still very much attached to his title," Flint said, scowling at her. "Still, that doesn't matter." His grip on her chin tightened. "Tell me where the Treasure of the Blue Heron is."

She glared up at him. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said, her eyes narrowing.

Flint simply smiled down at her. "Oh, I think you do, lass," he said, grey eyes meeting violet. "If you tell me, I might just let you live to see your precious Captain Sparrow again."

The coldness of his words sent chills down Angela's back, but she didn't show it. She had to keep her head and get back to the inn to warn Jack. In order to do that, she had to stay alive.

"I swear, I don't know what you're talking about!" she said, looking up at him.

Flint sighed as he released her face. "Phil, tell the lovely lass what you heard today," he said, waving at the grimy man in front of the door.

"I heard the lass and Sparrow talking about a cave on an island, where the Heron is hidden," Phil replied, looking at the woman in front of him. He hesitated before continuing. "I also heard that Sparrow knows where the island is, but he didn't give out the coordinates. The lass knows what the island looks like, though."

"So that's it, lass," Flint said, smiling down at her. "Tell me about the island, and I'll let you go. If you don't..."

He trailed off as he signaled for Phil to come closer. An instant later, a rough hand and the cold feel of metal were pressed hard against her throat. Though not pressed hard enough to draw blood, the sword was pressed hard enough to cause discomfort. Silently asking Jack to forgive her, Angela did what she had to to save her life and, hopefully, his as well.

"The island is in the shape of a flying bird," she blurted out, a tear running down her cheek. "The cave is on the right side of the island. That's all I know, I swear! Only Jack knows where it is, he didn't tell me anything more than he knows which island it is!"

Flint smiled darkly down at his captive. "Good enough," he said, coolly. "I know which island that is anyway. Phil, inform the crew that we'll be heading for Seagull Island." As Phil headed out of the cabin, Flint grabbed Angela by her wrists, pulling her tightly against his chest. "Meanwhile, lass, you're going to be spending a lot of time with me in my cabin," he said, looking down at her. "After all, I can't have the Black Pearl attacking me, so you'll be my little bargaining chip, hmm?" He released one of her wrists to gently stroke her right cheek. "I look forward to you keeping me company for this voyage."

Angela looked at him in absolute terror before something was over her nose and mouth, causing her to fall into unconsciousness.

Jack's POV:

His bonny lass had been gone for over four hours, and Jack was beginning to feel more than a bit panicked. Her dress had already arrived hours ago, so where was Angela? Frustrated, Jack got off the bed, took the package under his arm, and headed for the Pearl, thinking that she might have forgotten something onboard.

His hopes were shattered after seeing that she wasn't in his cabin, or anywhere else on the ship. He put the package on his bed and headed for the White Satin dress shop, where he inquired about her with the shopkeeper. Apparently, Angela had left the shop hours ago, heading for another shop across the way. Jack was about to leave when the clerk told him about a man following her after she had left the shop. Alarmed at this bit of information, Jack headed into town to talk to Gibbs, hoping that his first mate could help him gather some information about Angela's disappearance. Of course, finding Gibbs would be the easiest thing in the world: the man only went to one bar to get drunk in Tortuga, and that was the Faithful Bride.

Twenty minutes later, as Jack walked into the Faithful Bride, he found his best mate in a corner, guzzling down what looked like his fifth mug of ale. As Jack took a seat in front of him, Gibbs looked at him in surprise.

"Jack!" he exclaimed, swaying drunkenly in his seat, his eyes wide with shock. "What are ye doing here?"

"I need yer help to find Angela," Jack replied bluntly. "Apparently some rogue followed and snatched her while I wasn't watching her."

Gibbs frowned. "Ye know, that wasn't a bright thing to do, Jack," he drunkenly chided his captain. After finishing off his drink, Gibbs's eyes narrowed in thought. "The odd thing is, I thought I saw someone carrying the lass towards the docks, but I thought that I'd been seeing things," he said, fiddling with his now-empty mug. "The man was heading for a ship called the Red Horizon, which sounds awfully familiar, doesn't it?"

Jack didn't have time to answer, because he was already racing out the door, headed down towards the docks. Upon his arrival, he scanned every docking area, but didn't find the Red Horizon anywhere.

'I swear, if Flint harms one head on her head, there'll be Hell to pay!' Jack thought, anger flowing through his veins. Flint wasn't known for showing mercy towards prisoners, and anyone who wasn't dead after five minutes of being with him tended to end up insane later. Jack had seen the aftermath of Flint's 'interviews' with prisoners, and they weren't pretty.

Still scanning, Jack spotted a young man sitting on a barrel, drinking a mug of some sort of alcohol. Walking up to him, Jack caught his attention by grabbing the mug out of the man's hand.

"Hey!" the drunk exclaimed, reaching for his drink. "Give it back!"

"Only if ye answer my question," Jack said, holding the mug out of the man's reach. "Did the Red Horizon leave already?"

The drunk frowned in thought. "Aye, it did," he said, suddenly smiling. "And it had the prettiest wench brought onboard, too. Flint's lucky that his crewmen bring him such nice-looking wenches, even when they're unconscious!"

At the drunk's words, Jack felt himself go cold with fear. After handing the mug back to its owner, Jack raced back to the Faithful Bride for help. Flint had kidnapped his love, and now likely knew where the Heron was hidden. The strange thing was that Jack didn't even care about the treasure. All he wanted was his bonny lass safe and sound in his arms, and he would get her back even if it was the last thing he did!

With that final thought, Jack rushed into the Faithful Bride to sober Gibbs up so they could gather the crew together, knowing that they were in for a long bit of sailing in the morning.
AN: School has started again, so updates will be slower and far-between. Please help keep me inspired by reviewing! And if you want a sequel to this story, tell me in your review! Thanks!