I do not own any of the treasure of Cortez! Oh yeah and Jack, I think he's a bit of a live wire, but so am I, we'd either get along like a house of fire or fight like cat and dog. So I don't own him, know him, or have anything to do with him. Be gentle with my first PotC, I'm writing another one that I think is gonna be better. And, I began to write this as you/Jack, and then had to change all the yous to she's and her's and all sorts, so parts of it might read funny, but I think I got most of it.

Are you sitting comfortably? Then I'll begin. . .

Chapter One: Ye've go' me

He pushes her backwards, lips locked together, she can feel the braids and beads in his hair against her face, and smell the sweet sticky smell of rum in the air as he pulls her corset off of her. She reachs the bed in only a petticoat, and him in his breeches, his hat is off but there's still the dirty red bandana round his head. He pushes her onto the bed and climbs ontop of her, slowly moving his hands up her thighs. The way he's looking at her, and not just his comical appearance, makes her think he's taunting her, but she doesn't know why.

"Ye're new to this game, ain't ye, love?" he asks, almost rhetorically, knowing the answer. She's been caught out. She is new to this game, but she's not going to tell him that, she needs the money.

"You'd be surprised," she reply. He smiles and gets off her, sitting on the side of the bed. She sits up too.

"Ye're no whore," he says, pulling on his boots.

"What?" She's confused, what did it matter to him whether she's done this before or not?

"An' I shoul' know. Listen love, they all think Jack Sparrow ain't got a 'eart, but he has, and he's not gonna lead one as fine as yerself into this business."

"Listen love," she begins just as he had, "It's either gonna be you, or the next guy that's down there."

"Then he's welcome to ye, but if ye don't min', I'll be stickin' to the ones who I know ain't got no future. You could really do summat wit' yerself love, ye don' 'ave ter be like this." She knows it's over, she's just going to have to get the next guy that's down there.

"What gave me away then?" she asks, so she could not mess it up next time. Jack pulls his dirty shirt over his head.

"One, yer don' dress like a whore, two, ye don' act like a whore, and three, ye didn't ask fer ye money up fron'," he says, putting some coins down on the table.

"What's that for?" she asks.

"Tha's for you to go downstairs with, get summat to eat, and think abou' whether this is the only option for ye," says Jack putting his hat on and tipping it.

"This is the only option, you think I'd be prepared to do this if it wasn't?" she says. "I have no money, nowhere to stay, nothing to eat, and no future."

Suddenly, Jack takes off his hat, walks towards her and kisses her forcefully, she try to step backwards because of the pressure he's putting on her, but she can't, he's pinned her up against a wall. His hands are roaming over her chest and he's ripping her corset off of her back, she can't move and she desperately wants him to get off but she can't speak, he almost throws her onto the bed and climbs over her, lifting up her petticoat she feels his rough, calloused hands on her delicate skin. He's kissing her again, pushing her so far back onto the mattress and leaning so close she can hardly breathe, his hands make contact with her hips and she can't push him off. He stops, and looks deep into her eyes.

"Is this really wha' ye wan', love?" he asks. She shakes her head, eyes wide, scared stiff. He backs off. "Compared to wha' some men'd do, I didn' even touch ye." He walks, or more accurately, sways, over to her, still lying on the bed, gently runs his hands through her hair and smiles. "Sorry abou' tha', love, I's ne'er gonna hurt ye, but I had ter show ye wha' it's like, tha's not worth a couple of dubloons is it?" She shakes her head and sits up, she feel like crying. Why was he doing this when he should be raping her?

"Now," he says after a moment. "I can' guarantee ye a future, or voluptous amounts of money, but I can give ye summat to eat and somewhere to stay," he offers. She looks up at him and he's extending his hand. What else can she do? She has nowhere else to go. She doesn't know why she's doing this, or feeling they way she does, part of her is so glad he's giving her another option, and part of her feels so low knowing that she can't even make a decent whore. She smiles a little before taking his hand and he helps her up.

"What's ye name, love?" he asks.

"Sarah." The corset is ruined because Jack had ripped the ties, so Sarah desceneds the stairs in her petticoat, a few steps behind Jack who's staggering a little. When she reaches the bottom he stops and turns around.

"Remember, we're still in a brothel savvy? There's guys in there tha' probably won' stop at much to get ye, 'specially dressed like tha'," he says. "So we're gonna have ter be quick, don' le' go o' me hand, savvy?" Savvy? She knows he's asking her a question, so she nods in agreement. He slowly opens the door and pulls her through; there is, indeed, plenty of men here, and plenty do look at her, smirking as she passes through, keeping a tight hold of Jack's hand. A few even reach out for her, grabbing at the hem of her petticoat. Jack pulls her along 'til she's out of the door and into the night.

"Ye alright?" Jack asks when they're outside. Sarah nods, and he proceeds down the street, still keeping a tight hold of her hand, although she doesn't know why as there's no-one about. He leads her down alleyways and backstreets that she didn't even know existed in Tortuga, he obviously knows the place like the back of his hand. Soon, they're near by the port, she can hear the waves softly lapping the dock, but Jack wasn't taking her to the dock, he led her off, to the side of the cove, past trees that edged the little town of Tortuga and into a bay that held only one ship, a large ghostly ship, with billowing black sails even though it had docked and there was no wind. He led her up the gangplank and onto the deck, where there was a very chilly deserted atmosphere, there wasn't a soul about and the creaking of the wood and sails creating shadows made you feel very uneasy. Jack led her to the helm of the ship and into a cabin.

The cabin was beautiful, once Jack had let go of her hand and lit a candle she could see it for all its glory. It was obviously the Captain's cabin, there's a double bed with deep red hangings, beautiful dark cupboards and drawers that seem perfect, even though she can see they were tarnished with scratches and pin-holes where there are maps and charts. The curtains, of the same deep red fabric, once opened, looked over the back of the ship, and she can see the little dabs of light through the trees that is Tortuga. Jack's looking at her, as if for her approval, but she doesn't quite know what to say, so he breaks the silence.

"I hope this is alrigh' for ye, although, it's only for one night mind, tomorrow I'll get ye another cabin, bu', as everyone's out pillaging in Tortuga ye migh' as well have mine," he says. She turns from the window and looks at him, tears creeping into her eyes.

"Jack, I can't thank you enough, but, I can't stay in your cabin," she begins, but Jack cuts you off.

"Of course ye can. I know this ship like the back of me han', I'll find somewhere else t' sleep fer tonight. D'ye fancy summat to eat?" he asks cunningly, knowing full well that she's starving. She smiles and nods her head, and Jack disappears from the cabin. She draws the curtains closed again and lies down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. After a few moments, Jack comes back with some bread, he unlocks one of the cabinets and pulls out a bottle of rum, which he uncorks.

"I'm afraid it's either rum or seawater," he says, apologetically as she tucks into the bread. Jack sits on the end of the bed next to her.

"Do you have to watch me eat?" she asks, taking a sip of the rum.

"Hang on, love, ye were planning to sleep with me, an' now ye're too shy to eat in fron' o' me?" he asks. You look at him. "Can I share ye're rum?" he adds quickly. She smiles and nod. "By the way, why were you in tha' brothel?"

"Mr. Sparrow," she says.

"Captain Sparrow," he corrects her as she finishes off the bread and lies back on the bed.

"Captain Sparrow," she begins again.

"Jack," he says.

"Jack," he takes a swig of rum and looks down at her. "When you have nothing," she begins sadly, "Apart from your body, and you haven't eaten in days, you'll be prepared to sell even that."

"How come ye haven' got anything, love? If tha's not too personal a question," Jack asks.

"Been like that ever since I can remember, I always keep myself clean so I don't look homeless and people don't avoid me, and so I don't look guilty when stallholders notice that food's missing from their carts. But I try and work, so I can buy food, I used to work in taverns," she trails off. "Jack?" she asks.

"Yes, love?" he answers, laying down next to her on his bed.

"How come you didn't just sleep with me and go?" she asks.

"Well, love. I came to Tortuga withou' a dubloon in me pocket or a shirt on me back. Everything I go', I either stole, bought with stolen money or won in a pub, an' it's taken me eight year. I really di' have nothing, an' I woul've given me right arm for someone t' help me," Jack says.

"You really did have nothing?" she says, looking towards him. "Then what have I got?"

"Ye've go' me."