The revised version...sorry

I must have given in to the power of sleep at some point because I awake mid-morning on deck. The sky above me is bright blue. I sit up hazily and look around me. There is no trace left of last night's fight. The bodies of the pirates have probably been thrown overboard. There is nobody on deck, save me, and a cabin boy, who is scrubbing at some faint burn-marks with a threadbare brush.

A gust of fresh sea air ruffles my hair as I survey the practically deserted ship. I walk to the ship's edge and lean out.

"You want to be careful there, Miss," the boy says without lifting his eyes from his task. I ignore him. I lean out even further.

A seagull calls from high in the sky. The boy picks up his brush and bucket and retreats beneath deck. I am now completely alone. I can do whatever I like.

I hesitate, then step quickly onto the rail so I am crouching on a mere fifteen centimetres before the edge of the deck and then the sea. The wind whips at my escaped curls.

I let go of the rail with my hands and straighten up. The water beneath is so clear I can see individual fish swimming about below.

I balance on the rail and gaze down into the sea. Life carries on down there, oblivious.

I do not know how long I stand there for, but without warning my necklace slips from my neck. I make a grab for it, and catch it, but the sudden jolting movement throws my balance and I topple downwards, downwards...

It's all around me, the sea envelops me, cold, unfriendly, unwelcoming, repelling. I swirl in the water, eyes shut, heart pounding, listening to the sub-surface splashing. I twist into a downward spiral; my lungs are bursting, I'm going to drown, I'm going to drown... the sea is forever below me, deep, endless; I am going to sink into the void and I am going to die in the icy cold and I shall never be seen again.

Now a splashing above me, now arms find me, hold me tight around my waist. I feel light-headed, I feel faint, I lie limp in the strong arms that drag me upwards to the ship and the crystalline sky...

We break the surface; air stings my face; I take a great breath and my vision returns; I am hoisted up onto the ship, gasping, gasping, hating all the ogling crew watching and wondering. I am dropped unceremoniously onto the deck where I lie, soggy, forlorn.

For the second time in a day I lie and look up at the sky, then something blocks my view. It is the face of a pirate.

His hair is long and beaded and covered with a red bandanna. He has several gold teeth. He grins. The teeth glint in the morning sun. "Hello," he says.

I sit up so fast I almost knock heads with him. "Pirate!" I scream, but someone pushes me back down to lie on deck. It is Norrington.

"Norrington! A pirate!" I gasp, struggling to move, but he holds me down.

"Calm yourself, Catherine." He turns to the pirate. "She is delirious."

"I am not delirious!" I snap.

"This man is not a pirate. He is a member of our crew," Norrington informs me languidly. "He fought on the Navy's side in last night's attacks, and he saved your life just now. He agrees to give up his life of piracy for a career in the King's Navy." The pirate nods proudly behind Norrington's shoulder.

"Catherine, I would advise that you go and change your clothes directly," Norrington continues. "The rest of you, set sail for Port Royale." He gets up and strides off.

I pick myself up off the floor and get changed in my cabin. When I open the door I find the pirate standing outside, waiting with a breakfast tray, which he hands to me. I look down at it in disgust.

"Made it myself," he says proudly.

"I could tell," I say. "Now please go down to the kitchens and get my real breakfast from Pintel."

He looks so surprised that he forgets to be offended. "There's a Pintel on this ship? Well, well, well..." he muses, "but, then again, it's probably not the same one. Where's he from?"

I wave a hand in the air vaguely. "Oh... I forget. Norrington's been picking up pirates for years now. I reckon he's had a soft spot for them ever since he let that Sparrow get away."

The pirate's expression changes momentarily. "Oh, yeah? Great getaway, I hear. One of the best chases in the history of piracy."

"Well, the way I hear it told, he fell backwards off the cliff wall and was lucky not to hit the rocks," I reply, shutting my cabin door behind me.

"I did not!" he snaps.

I turn around and face him curiously. "You're Jack Sparrow?"

He nods. "Heard of me, I expect."

"Of course I have. Will never stops talking about your little adventure."

"Will? Will Turner?" Sparrow asks quickly.

"Yes... why? Do you know him?" I ask.

Sparrow's face sours. "I did." He looks so disgusted that I decide not to press the matter, but he elaborates without having to be asked. "Stupid kid could have come on my ship, I would have got him his own, made him the captain... but he had to go running off and get married to his girlfriend."

My heart misses a beat.

I struggle to regain my composure. "Will's married? To Elizabeth?" I stammer idiotically.

Sparrow seems not to have noticed that my heart has been stamped on. "Well..." he continues, "he was going to be. But her father decided he was going to make them wait for three years, till Elizabeth turned nineteen... her birthday was a few weeks ago now, I think the ceremony's in a few days."

I feel dizzy. Will, getting married in a matter of days, and not telling me? Why, I have known him ever since I can remember, and he does not even tell me that he is getting married?

"Are you all right?" Sparrow inquires.

"I am perfectly fine," I snap.

"Sure you don't want me to go and get the captain?" he asks, mock-concernedly.

"I am sure." I take a cautious sip from the drink he has brought me on the breakfast-tray. Nothing happens.

"I reckon he fancies you," Sparrow guffaws moronically.

I choke on my mouthful of unidentifiable liquid. "Please, Mr Sparrow, do spare me. That is disgusting."

Sparrow seems to realise his mistake. "Oh... I see, is he a relation?" There is a stagnant pause. "He's not your father, is he?" he asks, half-horrified.

I laugh. "No, but he is my foster father."

"You're an orphan?"

"Yes, because of him. My parents were pirates. Norrington had them hanged."

"I've always thought that punishment was harsh," Sparrow nods sympathetically. "Don't you hate him?"

"Yes," I agree. "I hate every particle of his being, and he mine. It's not so bad if the feeling's mutual."

"Then why does he take you on his voyages? It's said it's bad luck to have a woman on board."

"He has no choice. He's my legal guardian, and so long as I am under sixteen and there are no living relatives he can dump me on, I have to stay with him, and he takes me wherever he goes. It's such a drag, but I'm sixteen in just a few weeks, and then I'll be free!" I explain.

Sparrow still looks confused. "But why in the name of rum did Norrington adopt you if he hates you so much?"

I pause. "I really don't know," I muse. "I've never really thought about it before. Maybe he thought it would look good, make him look like a nice guy."

"Maybe he did it to attract some women," Sparrow suggests, and laughs abruptly.

"Yes, because God knows no woman would be attracted to him naturally." I laugh, but Sparrow doesn't. "I mean, remember poor Elizabeth? He proposed to her! Poor girl! I'd have chosen a handsome blacksmith over an ugly old commodore any day." I stop when I realise Sparrow's eyes are glazed and he is staring at a spot just above my shoulder.

I feel as though someone has placed a large lead weight in my stomach. I turn around very slowly. Norrington is standing directly behind me. He has a strange expression on his face, somewhere between acute embarrassment and triumphant discovery. His pale cheeks are slightly flushed, but he is wearing an odd smile, which he turns to me, and widens slowly.

At precisely this moment I would give my weight in gold to sink through the floor and never be seen again.

"So," Norrington begins venomously. I close my eyes and wait for the kill.

"So," he repeats. "You would choose a handsome blacksmith over me any day?" I feel my cheeks begin to burn. I try to walk away, but his hand comes down with an iron clamp on my shoulder with surprising speed.

"Well?" he demands. I say nothing. "ANSWER ME, CATHERINE!" he roars with a crazed look in his eye. I begin to wish I had never mentioned Elizabeth – always his sore point, where his pride was bruised when Elizabeth chose to marry Will over him.

I nod slowly.

"Should I inform Mr Turner of your ardour?" Norrington suggests evilly.

"No," I reply, a shade too quickly. Norrington's grin widens.

"Oh, but why not?" he asks. "I'm sure he would want to know – of course, I shall have to inform Miss Swann and her father also."

"No," I say, urgently.

He ignores me. "I think I shall," he says, letting go of my shoulder. "I think I –"

BOOM.

I spin around. Sparrow is nowhere to be seen, but a cannon has just exploded from below. There is no sight of an enemy vessel – what is going on?

Distracted, thankfully, Norrington mutters something to himself and hurries down below deck. I sink to my knees and am wishing to drown in my own embarrassment, when I hear someone rushing up behind me.

"Did it work?" Sparrow's voice says.

"Did what work?" I mutter indistinctly.

"The cannon; I set it off to distract Norrington. Did it work?"

I look up at the pirate gratefully. "Yes, thank you! Thank you so much!"

"It was nothing," he replies. "Always ready to cause some trouble when it's needed." He begins to walk away.

Something occurs to me. "Mr Sparrow?"

"Yes?"

"I do believe we have some stock of rum in the stronghold, if you would be interested - as a token of my appreciation," I smile.

Sparrow grins. "You are kind." I turn to fetch it. "And Miss Costa?"

"Yes?"

"Just a question; just out of interest, you understand."

"Yes?"

"Do you like Will?"

My cheeks turn crimson. "Well, I –" I stammer. "I – I –"

He rolls his eyes, and disappears down the hatch. "OK, OK, forget I asked."