Chapter Six

Jack slept somewhat peacefully that night, in spite of the rough waters. The tempest that had raged for the past two days was passing his ship by, but not by much. Apparently, he thought, as he looked over the side of the ship the next morning, not everyone was as fortunate as he was. Driftwood floated by, some of it painted the stark British white.

"His Majesty lost another ship to this storm, I shouldn't wonder," Gibbs commented as he returned to his place at the helm.

"Yes..."

"What's on your mind, Jack?"

"I was just wondering if our hostage made it to Port Royale. She was quite worried about it."

"If I heard her right, she is going to motivate them further to hunt us down." He grinned. "Somehow I doubt her abilities of persuasion."

"I don't think Miss Young could have gotten them to send out more ships on her account...they've already got enough of them in these waters looking for us."

"Indeed." Gibbs looked about to say something when his face changed. "What's that...over there, between port and bow?"

Jack squinted, and straightened up. He strode over to the side of the Pearl and leaned over the edge. "It's our lifeboat. This must have been the ship she took." Something about that seemed to unsettle him, as if it had been his fault. Normally, he would not have had any qualms...but she'd been a lady, whether or not she was truly courteous. "Is there someone in it?" he wondered aloud, and at that moment the current caught their little boat, and it swung around to reveal a very soggy young woman. A very familiar, very soggy young woman.

"It's her," Gibbs answered under his breath. Then, he motioned to one of the men standing nearby. "Get our boat up."

Corinne knew nothing except the glaring sun, the warm Caribbean water, and her parched, cracked lips. She felt nothing...and she hadn't known anything for a long time. She didn't know how long she'd lain there...but then whatever she was lying on lurched slightly, and she felt strong arms lift her out of the boat. That's what it was...a boat.

And she heard voices...she'd heard them before. But her sun-fried brain could not place them.

She struggled to open her eyes, and saw nothing but blue sky...and the rigging of a ship. Black sails fluttered gently in a light breeze. She knew nothing.

Jack lifted Corinne and carried her into his cabin, laying her on the bed. "She needs water." He looked at Anna Maria, and she nodded, starting to leave. "No, wait...bring some rum, too. That might aid in her waking."

She left, and upon returning, found the young woman with her eyes slightly open. Jack took the bottle of rum and put it to her lips. Corinne, thinking it was water, gulped quickly. But by the time she realized otherwise, she was coughing and sputtering...but indeed, she was much more awake.

"Water?" she croaked, and Jack grinned and corked the rum. Then he obliged her request for water, and she drank the entire cup.

"Now, Miss Young, I do believe you could use some rest. We'll get you some food."

She laid her head back on the pillow. "Thank you," she said very quietly.

"Don't thank me yet," Jack replied, and closed the cabin door behind him.

Corinne fell asleep almost the moment the captain had shut the door. She was exhausted...she wasn't sure how many days she'd lain out in the sun without food or water, but proper rest would not come at night, due to the rough waters and lack of other essentials.

When she woke again, there was a plate piled high with food sitting next to her bed. It looked as if it had been there for quite some time, and she knew it had been when she picked up a grape...it was a little warm now.

No one was here, watching her, and she was so hungry she thought she might eat ten times what they'd given her. But the pirates were generous enough to even take her back in...especially after the threats she'd thrown out last time she was on this ship. She tore hungrily at the food; taking it in and wishing she could just inhale it all in one breath and make the feeling of starvation go away.

When she finally felt well enough to stand, her stomach was full and she looked down at her dress. It had been fairly new, purchased while she was on the British ship. Now it was tattered rags, torn several times by – she guessed – her escape from the sinking vessel, and who knew what else. She barely even remembered the time she'd spent in the little lifeboat, due most likely to her heat-soaked delirium.

Corinne suddenly decided that she wasn't going to wear the dress anymore. It was heavy and of no use on a ship like this. There was no telling when she'd leave; and she wasn't sure now that she wanted to. These pirates had treated her with their best, though at times, she was certain it was not much. But at the very least she must find a way to send word to Elizabeth that she was all right. She unbuttoned the dress and it fell off in a crumpled heap on the floor. It looked rather silly lying there, all worn and torn and used after only a week's wear or so. The corset she was even gladder to be rid of. It seemed so confining; she could hardly believe she'd chosen to wear one at all.

She headed toward the other end of the room and pulled open the top drawer that was built into the wall of the cabin. There was one shirt in there, much too big for her, but she pulled it out and shrugged it on over her petticoat. She buttoned it up and nearly laughed out loud at her appearance in the mirror in front of her. She was a strange sight. But it didn't really matter what she looked like now, as long as she was alive. And as far as she knew, she was still in that state.

As she turned to go outside, she saw something sitting there in the corner. It was a bottle of something to drink...she was terribly thirsty...so she grabbed it and gulped half of it down in two shakes. It burned her throat, and made her thirstier. So she left the cabin in search of some food.

Jack Sparrow played idly with his hat, fingering its weather-beaten brim. All three corners showed signs of dreadfully hard wear. It had been his for a long time.

The door to his cabin swung open, and a slightly tottering Corinne Young stumbled out. She did not look sick, only, perhaps, in need of some more food and water. Not surprising; she'd been asleep for more than two days. But...what was she -?

"What's that you're wearing?" he asked, and she turned to look at him.

"Looks like a shirt to me," she surmised, tugging at it and pretending to examine it thoroughly. "Yep, it's a shirt."

"It's my shirt."

"It's a nice shirt," she offered, hugging herself. "Billowy."

Jack decided to humor her. "Are you hungry?" She nodded. "Then go to the galley and get some food."

She started towards it, but he wasn't so sure she'd make it without falling overboard, so he hopped down and grabbed her arm. As soon as he was in her proximity, he smelled it. Rum. She must have found the bottle he'd left in the room for himself, after he'd woken her up with it two days earlier.

"Sounds like you're going to be a little tipsy for a while," he commented. "Unless you have a better alcohol toleration than I do."

Corinne woke up again in Jack's cabin...but with a pounding headache this time. She put a hand over her forehead and tried to make it go away, but it was stubborn and her head began to throb all the worse.

She sat up and the room spun...whoa. She lay down again. The room was only spinning a little bit, just with the gentle rocking of the ship. But she dared not sit up again until she was sure she would keep all the food she'd eaten yesterday down. And even lying there she wasn't entirely certain she could manage it. Though, then again, she wasn't sure if it was still there, after last night. She didn't know why she'd just thought that...and then she realized she couldn't remember the night before. All she remembered was putting on Jack's shirt, and then taking a drink from...oh. She understood now why her head felt like it was going to fall off and she had no memory of the previous sixteen or so hours. She'd been drunk.

The cabin door's creak made her head turn. Jack stepped in, carrying a cupful of water for her. "Feeling better, are we?" he asked cheerfully. She shook her head, attempting to raise it slightly to reach the water. It tasted so good, so sweet, so cool...and she was at the bottom of the cup. Jack took the empty cup back.

"We'll touch at Port Royale tonight," he said. "Elizabeth will want to know you are safe."

"Eliza -? How did you -?"

He grinned at her reaction. "You were drunk last night, so I decided to find out what we owed the honor of your visit to the Caribbean to. Elizabeth and Will and I...well, let's just say that they were my partners in crime for a while."

Corinne stared at him. "So you're...taking me back to Port Royale?"

He nodded. "Yes. Well actually, the Pearl will be waiting back farther, and I'll bring you into the actual place. It would be too obvious, too much of a risk for us to sail the most wanted ship – the fastest ship, mind you – in these waters, this close to the largest British city in the Caribbean. But I believe I may be able to slip past the defenses long enough to let you ashore."

"But why? Why are you doing this?" she asked, puzzled.

He leaned against the doorpost. "Last night...even though you were drunk, you were being so serious about what you were saying even I dared not laugh. You told me you wanted to stay on the Pearl. You told me you wanted to cease being British, and start being yourself."

"I said that?" she was shocked. Those had only been thoughts...true enough, perhaps, but she knew she could never live them out. Or maybe that was not entirely true...

"Yes. And so I'm taking you to Port Royale, where you may do one of two things...you may either tie up loose ends and meet my ship on Tortuga – I'll wait there for two weeks, and no longer – or you may decide to stay. If that is the case, then live your British life, and happily."

Corinne was astonished. No one had ever offered her a choice between doing what her heart wanted to do and doing what her mind told her she must do. And she did want to stay with them.

"Also," he continued with a grin, "I want to make sure they know I'm not dead."

"I'll be ready when we arrive," she replied, successfully attempting to sit up.

Jack smiled. "Good."