Disclaimer: I own nothing, yada yada yada.

Chapter 2:

Long before dawn approached, I rose from my bed after a sleepless night. I rummaged through my closet quietly as to wake no one. Donning the only man's clothing I owned (which was, unfortunately, the breeches and torn tunic I had worn during my fight with Sparrow), I began climbing carefully out the window.

I was about halfway down the wall when I lost my footing and landed heavily in the bushes below me. This was only bound to add another bruise to my already colorful collection. I had discovered earlier that my wrist was an attractive shade of purple; a bruise the size and color of a rotting apple had blossomed on my cheek.

The morning sun was beginning to streak the sky with rosy light, revealing the dark shapes of ships in the harbour. One of these, no doubt, was the Black Pearl. Orange, then yellow blended into the red of the sunrise, throwing the bay into sharper relief. There was a lone man on the end of a long pier, standing with his back to me.

I approached him slowly, with caution. He must have heard my footfalls; without turning around he said, "Come along, love," and boarded the plank onto the pirate ship.

"Sparrow–"

He didn't answer right away. "Captain Sparrow, Captain, how many bloody times..."

And I couldn't help but smile quietly.

Once inside his cabin, Jack dropped into a chair, propping his feet up on his desk, before turning to me, a quizzical eyebrow raised. "Care to explain why you decided to take me up on my offer?" he asked lightly. "Wearing that, no less." He gestured at the torn shirt with a teasing look on his face.

I sighed. "Not that it is any of your business, but if you must know, I wasn't particularly fond of the groom." I tried to keep only the right side of my face visible to him; I didn't need him thinking I came running back to him because my fiancee hit me.

He mulled this over in his mind for a moment. "And the shirt? Not trying to seduce me now, are we?" He rose and within three broad strides was mere centimeters away from me. His voice dropped to a low, hoarse whisper. "Because it's working." A rough finger stroked my cheek, causing me to shudder.

I turned to keep him from seeing the bruise on my other cheek, shuffling awkwardly away from him. "Jack, there's no romantic future for us. So I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't do things like that."

I lifted my gaze from the grainy wood floor to see him. His voice was barely audible over the light slapping of waves against the hull. "Do things like what?" Dark eyes searched my face apprehensively before his lips drew closer to mine, barely brushing them with a soft touch.

His eyes were roaming my face once more when he pulled back. My breath was locked in my chest, rendering me immobile. He was leaning in again to steal another kiss when he noticed the bruise on my cheek. He jerked away, surprised. "Did he do that to you?" he asked abruptly.

My eyes shifted nervously. "Did who do what to me?" I asked innocently, feigning ignorance. Denial, denial, denial.

"Don't play games with me, Katherine. Did he do that to you?" He stared me down. I lost.

Clearly this was one question I couldn't evade. "Yes, alright? He hit me. So I left. I needed somewhere safe to go," I said quickly.

A mild look of amusement crossed his face, and was gone as soon as it had appeared. "You think I'm safe?"

I took as step backwards. "I didn't say that. I just knew..." I trailed off. "I just knew you wouldn't hurt me like he did. You play all sorts of havoc with my emotions, Sparrow, but you wouldn't dare hurt me physically."

He stepped forward so we were once again nearly nose to nose. He grabbed my wrists, leaning in to breathe quietly against my lips, "What makes you so sure?" before kissing me so thoroughly I felt my knees might collapse beneath me. He held more firmly onto my wrists, and pushed them above his head and down around his neck.

I winced from the pressure on my fresh bruise. I pulled my hands away from his and stepped further away from him. Hands on hips, I said firmly, "Jack, please stop acting like this. If you are going to continue to kiss me in such incredible, brain-melting ways, I'm going to have to leave. We can't have that kind of a relationship. You had your chance, and you passed it up. I only want to be a member of your crew, and make a life somewhere far away from here." I looked up, expecting to see a pained expression on his face, but instead he was smirking.

"Alright, love. If you insist. Since you're so intent on being part of the crew, I assume you'll be sleeping in their quarters?" he asked, grinning smugly.

A withering glare was all I could muster for a moment. "You know perfectly well that I will not be sharing rooms with your crew," I told him once I regained my speech.

He chuckled. "I know, love, keep your knickers on. But in all seriousness, this might not be the best voyage for you to come on."

I sat down on a wooden stool. "Why not?"

A heavy sigh escaped his lips. "We're going after treasure. Of the Isla de Muerta."

I stood up abruptly, knocking the stool over. "You're WHAT?!" I screeched. "You're an even bigger idiot than I thought!"

Sparrow blinked slowly. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that. Now do you want to stay on board, or what? If you do, I suggest you keep such opinions to yourself in the future. Understand?" I nodded. "If you want to be a member of this crew, you're going to work, just like one of them. You can start by making breakfast." He led me in the direction of the ship's kitchen, and set me to work making porridge for the crew.

When I brought the bubbling mass of gruel into the ship's dining quarters, a murmur of surprise went around the crew. They silenced themselves immediately, and twenty pairs of eyes followed my movement across the floor to the head of the table. Jack cleared his throat from his position in the doorframe.

The pirates immediately busied themselves with dishing the disgusting grey slop into bowls, and I made a quick exit. The minute I left, I heard one lone voice ask Jack what I was doing back on the ship. The voice didn't sound particularly thrilled to have me aboard once again. I didn't hear a reply from the captain.

Once the crew was all on deck swashing and buckling, I was put to work scouring the immense vat the porridge had been cooked in. That day and the next were spent scrubbing the deck.

The next day brought about what is possibly the most tedious and boring task ever devised to bedevil the days of man. Peeling potatoes.

After peeling a basketful of tubers, I found my way to the storeroom to retrieve another. I was crouched behind a large crate filled with bottles of rum, filling a basket with more potatoes from a sack.

I heard footsteps coming down the stairs, accompanied by hushed whispering. I peered out from behind the crate, recognizing the first mate Barbossa, Ragetti and Pintel. They were escorted by a fourth man whom I vaguely recognized but didn't have a name to place with his face.

I could barely make out what they were saying. "...This afternoon. He's already... where the island is. ...Maroon him... Sparrow will... out of our way," said the gruff voice of the first mate.

My eyes were widened with shock. "Oh my God," I whispered, unable to help myself. I clapped my hand over my mouth when they immediately stopped talking. I heard footsteps coming closer. Flattening myself back against the crate as far as I could, I tilted my head back to see that Pintel was right above me, leaning over the wooden box. He looked around, then returned to the group.

A voice I didn't recognize spoke. "Don't you think... a little extreme?" Peeking around the crate again, the unknown man was staring at his boots, wringing his hands. Barbossa glared at him.

"Are you against the mutiny, Mr. Turner?" Barbossa's voice was raised. "Would you like to be marooned with Sparrow?"

Turner coughed and shook his head. Barbossa seemed satisfied. "You are dismissed." The footsteps retreated up the stairs.

When I was sure they were all gone, I stood up, burying my face in my hands. "Well, well. What have we here?" said Barbossa from behind me.

I jumped, startled. "I... I was getting some more potatoes," I said, showing him the basket.

He eyed me warily. "I see. And you didn't hear our little conversation by chance, did you?" I shook my head emphatically. He smiled, revealing rotting teeth. "Somehow, I have trouble believing that." He drew his pistol and pointed it at me, finger on the trigger.

He called to the pirates who had just retreated. They came back down into the storeroom, all looking a little surprised to see me there. Barbossa jerked his pistol in my direction. "She's heard our conversation, gentlemen." I flinched, queasy from nerves.

A murmur went through them. The one called Turner looked nervous. "Barbossa, you surely don't mean to kill her, do you?" he asked.

Barbossa chuckled throatily. "No, I don't mean to kill her. She's going to abandon ship." Ragetti and Pintel nodded. They both came towards me, appearing to be the very essence of menacing. Before I knew what was happening, they both had a hold of me.

One grabbed my arms, the other my legs. I was soon being carried up the stairs to the deck. I thrashed violently, but the pirates held me in their iron grips. A gag was stuffed in my mouth shortly after I managed to bite Pintel in the arm. I screamed curses at them, though they went unheard, muffled by the dirty strip of cloth.

Far too soon, we were on deck, by the railings on the port side. Barbossa sent Turner up to keep Jack distracted. Pintel and Ragetti proceeded to swing me up and over the side.

Down, down I fell into that choppy blue expanse. I landed the waves, sending up a massive splash. I sank downward, further and further into the cool water, trying to fight my way up into the air above me. My head broke the surface, and I breathed in the water that my gag had absorbed. Treading water, I struggled to untie the cloth. Flailing about, I waved at the retreating ship, shouting for Jack. It was hopeless.