Chapter Two

Jack Sparrow stepped out of his cabin and looked out over the Caribbean, a yellow-orange light flickering off the water. The sun was a flaming ball on the horizon, and seagulls floated lazily overhead. His crew was up and they were all getting some food from the galley. As he stepped to the main deck, a thumping to his left attracted his attention. He peered down into the hold to face a glaring young woman.

"Well, hello. Sleep well?"

"You filthy pirate – "

"It's not very nice to assume I don't take baths because I like to plunder ships."

She gazed up at him, suddenly cool. "You seem to fit the description well enough."

"Be kind, now!"

"You've shown no kindness to me," she replied, setting her jaw.

"You're alive, aren't you?"

She did not respond; only glared daggers at him.

"Oh, so we have been kind to you, but you don't wish to admit it..."

"I am alive, it is true. But considering what you're going to do to me, I'd rather be dead."

"Come now, do you really think we, the humble pirates of the Black Pearl, would do such a thing? You really must get your misconceptions of our kind cleared up."

She looked away, apparently deciding to behave in case they chose to offer something she could use...like food.

"What's your name, lass? Tell me that and I'll give you something to eat."

The girl sucked in her cheeks and looked up again. "Corinne Victoria Young," she said haughtily. "And as soon as the Jupiter reaches Port Royale, everyone will know I've been captured."

"And -?" Jack cocked his head to one side. "You think that they'll rush to find you? I mean; the crew seemed to eager to have you back, didn't they?"

She opened her mouth to speak, and then shut it again. "They are of lower breeding. Someone who knows etiquette will search for me."

"Right, I'm sure that they will." He left for a moment and returned with a bowl of porridge and some hardtack. "Here's your breakfast. Enjoy, my dear lady."

"Your dear lady," she said as she took the food, "I'm not your anything."

"We'll see." He replied, closing the grate again. Until she was tamer, she wasn't coming out of that hold.

Corinne bit back a cry as she sunk a tooth into the hardtack. When she pulled away from it, the tooth nearly came out with it. She held her aching jaw in her hand, holding back tears. This pirate business apparently required having strong teeth...or a few gold ones, like the captain. At any rate, the porridge looked like a safer option for the moment.

It was a good thing it was cold; her tongue would be less likely to swell from lack of water. As for the hardtack, she opened the porthole beside her and flung it out to sea. There was no use for it in this dark prison.

They'd lit no lamps down here, and so Corinne could see nothing. She'd sat under the light that filtered down from the grate over the opening. It was shut tightly; she'd already checked that. Even if she could manage to get all the way up the ladder without tripping over her dress – which contained yards of fabric – the grate was too firmly planted over the opening.

She was too angry still to be curious about anything; whatever was down here could wait. Besides that, she had no love for the dark and there was certainly plenty of that down here, whether or not it concealed anything worth stealing.

The thought of stealing brought a stern rebuke to her mind, but she silenced it. These were pirates, after all; their business was stealing and so whatever she took from them did not matter.

Suddenly, she knew she was going to be sick. After the long voyage to these waters to visit her cousin, Elizabeth, she still was not used to the rocking motion of ships. She had spent her entire life on land, and that was where she worked best. But as she looked around, there was no place to relieve her roiling stomach. The porthole was too small; if she missed it could end up all over her dress.

Something from a few feet away caught the corner of her eye and she grabbed the bucket, getting rid of the porridge she'd just eaten. So much for being proper. Well, as long as no one else found out about her inability to keep her body under control, she would excuse it.

There was the sound of wood creaking above her, and the first mate's bearded face peered down at her.

"Up you come, Miss Young, the captain says you may be released from the hold. Don't know that it's wise to do so, but he's the captain." He took a look at the bucket and a grin crossed his face. "Haven't got your sea legs yet, eh?"

"No, I haven't, and I don't intend to, as my voyage home will be the last time I ever set foot on a ship again."

"I don't know if I am heartbroken or not." The pirate replied, as she tried valiantly to struggle around her rather large dress to climb the ladder. "Lemme give you a hand there." He grabbed her arm and yanked her up to the deck, and she pulled away, rubbing her wrist.

"You'll pay for this, someday. All of you. As soon as I can get to Port Royale, you'll all be dead men."

"Strong words coming from a lady who is rather...shall we say, not on the bargaining end of things, don't you think?" Captain Jack Sparrow leaned on the helm nonchalantly. His posture straightened. "Listen, and closely so. You will either behave in the way that I tell you to on the deck, or you will behave however you choose beneath the deck." He motioned to the hold. "That clear enough for you?"

Corinne resisted the urge to spit on his precious deck and nodded. "Couldn't be more so."

"Good. Then we shall all be quite a bit happier if the Black Pearl's lovely decks were cleaned." She stared at him. He closed his eyes. "Have you ever taken an order in your life?"

"I'm an English noblewoman, Captain Jack Sparrow. I have always given the orders."

"No one's perfect, I suppose," he muttered, and nodded to Anna Maria. "Teach her."

Gibbs pulled out his flask and took a quick drink from it.

"What's that?" Jack wondered. "Scotch, like usual? Let me have some..." He reached for it and tipped his head back... "Nearly empty." He scowled. "Well, we're headed for Tortuga anyways, so I'll get some rum when we dock."

They gazed out at the dazzling sea, with the sun dancing on the water. A few seagulls circled lethargically in the distance, but nothing else graced the horizon or their view. Good thing, too...British ships had started searching for them the day after Jack's "escape" from Port Royale.

The Pearl hadn't been to Tortuga under Jack's hand for a long time. They'd had to stay away from his favorite town for two months, but now food, water, and most importantly, rum, were all in short supply. It was time to be done with lying low. After all, this ship was nigh uncatchable.

He grinned. Tortuga it was.