Title: In Dreams
Rating: PG
Pairing: OC/J, but not like you're thinking.
Warning: This is a parody. Do not let the first chapter scare you.

Disclaimer: I don't own Pirates of the Caribbean: that would be Disney and the screenwriters. I also don't own the concept of the 'Mary Sue.' That... well, I don't know who owns that.

In Dreams

Chapter 2

Ashley stirred slightly. It was such a lovely dream. She was Irish and on the same ship as Jack Sparrow, and he had kissed her! Her hand absently strayed to her usually curly brown hair. It had been teased and plastered into an absolute mess by sea air, sand, and ocean water. 'That is going to take weeks to come out.' She thought mentally.

"That's the last time I fall asleep on the beach." She mumbled.

"What was that love?"

Ashley's eyes flew open. Instead of the sandy white beach she had last seen, she was inside what appeared to be a small wooden cabin. On a bed. With a pair of eyes looking at her curiously. Two kohl rimmed eyes. Eyes that looked remarkably like...

"Oh my GOD!" she screamed, sitting bolt upright. Looking around, she found that she was, indeed, in a cabin, a cabin that appeared to be part of a ship. And there, sitting next to her, smug look on his face, was Captain Jack Sparrow.

"Nononononono." she said. "This" she waved her hand to indicate everything she saw. "This is a dream. It has to be a dream. You're-you're not real!"

Jack frowned. "I look real enough, don't I? I was real enough last night. Now, shall we get down to business? Wish I hadn't dropped off last night, looks like you're not a morning person."

"What business?"

Jack raised an eyebrow at her. Ashley covered her mouth and flopped back on the pillow. "This is not happening to me. Not happening. Nope, not happening. I'm going to wake up now, and you'll be gone, and I'll be buried up to my neck in sand but that's okay because I won't be in the same cabin as Captain Jack Sparrow, he thinks I'm someone who sells herself."

"Come, come, love. You can't dress like that and not expect people to think you're a whore."

Ashley sputtered. "Don't say that word. And certainly don't say it to me."
"Whore? What about wench then? Is wench all right?" Jack clearly did not take her seriously.

"No! Wench is not all right! I'm nothing of the kind."

"Then why are you wandering around in scarlet under things?" Jack leered at her, eyes running up and down her. Ashley clutched the blanket to her chest, though it did not seem to deter the captain.

"What are you talking about?" Ashley looked down and found that she was clothed in the same thing as when she'd apparently gone around the bend of insanity.

"Are you talking about my suit?" she asked. "It's not that bad."

Jack chocked with laughter. "Not that bad? I've seen whores more dressed then that. Sorry, wenches. I forgot your aversion to 'that word'."

"It's just a two piece swim suit. So what if it's red?"

"Clearly you're more daft then I am, which is rather hard to do, I might add. Red is the color of the harlot. And most of them will at least cover their stomach. And their arms. And their legs, actually. I've bedded ladies more dressed then you." Jack clearly thought this whole situation quite amusing. Ashley disagreed.

"Then I don't know what you'd do on a topless beach." She said, highly disgruntled. Jack simply smiled wide. It reminded Ashley of the Cheshire Cat. That was certainly not a good thing. "Find me some clothes then, if you're a gentleman."

Jack laughed harder then he had before. "Gentleman? I just admitted to bedding many a wench and you think me a gentleman? Clearly, you have drunk far more rum then anyone should. Except maybe me." He flashed the same smile. Ashley got up indignantly, blanket still wrapped around her as a sort of shield, and marched out of the cabin onto the deck.

That was her greatest mistake in the whole misadventure. Pirates are not gentleman, despite what you may have read. Some have the taste of gentlemen, which simply means they rape, pillage, and plunder only the very rich instead of whatever ship they happen upon. The pirates of the Black Pearl, however, good souls though they may have been, were not gentlemen pirates. Ashley was assailed by offers from all sides. Everywhere she turned, she saw another leering face. Clutching her blanket to her chest and turning, she tried to avoid the stares she couldn't help getting. Unnerved, she fled, running through double doors to a great sitting room, slamming the doors behind her. She looked around, hoping not to see anyone.

"They're a bunch of blackguards." A voice came from the corner. "A woman is something to be bedded to them. Unless you prove your worth." The possessor of the voice stepped out of the shadows. She was a darker skinned woman, probably Cajun, if Ashley had to guess. The woman made her way across the cabin toward Ashley.

"Anamaria." She said by way of introduction. "And I've no idea who you are or where you came from, but you're far enough out to water you're drowning."

Ashley looked at Anamaria confused. "I'm Ashley. And I have no idea what I'm doing here either."

"Well, since ye're here, you might as well make yourself useful. Can you sew?"

"No."

"Cook?"

"No."

"Well blast, girl, what can you do?"

"Um...read? And swim. And use a computer. Oh, but you wouldn't know what that is."

"Right." Anamaria gave Ashley a look that clearly said 'You're crazy, woman.' Anamaria sighed. "Well, you'll be on board at least a couple of weeks, so you might as well learn to do something. But don't count on being very well protected. You haven't proved yourself, you're no one's relation. I'd lock my door at night if I were you."

"You think I'll get a room?"

"I think you'll get a makeshift bordello, but that's not for me to say. I sleep in here." she pointed to the corner. "You can sleep over there, if you don't get another cabin. Your clothes, if you can call them that, need a little work." She studied Ashley's outfit, and Ashley began to see what was wrong with it. It was a cute two piece bathing suit in fire engine red, matched with red board shorts and black flip flops. Her hair was a disaster almost beyond repair. It looked like she'd just walked off a beach. 'Well' she thought to herself 'I did just walk off a beach. It just happens that that beach is located several hundred years in the future.'

"Well, you may as well learn to sew while you get yourself some decent clothes. You're light enough; you might be able to go up in the sails. After, of course, you know what the bloody hell a sail is." Anamaria walked over to a pile of canvas and picked up some of the material, as well as a needle and some course thread. She shoved them at Ashley.

"Ye might make yourself pants and a shirt. I might have some linen for a shirt, but you'll make due with the canvas otherwise." She said sternly.

"Thank you." Ashley stammered, looking down dubiously at the pile of material.