Title: Of the Sea Rating: PG-13
Chapter Title: 2. Interviews
Summary: Conversations between Jack and Matt.
Timeline: Tuesday, May 3, 1675
Author: Cicatrix (Marin K.)

He leaned back in his chair, his boots on the table, and a bottle of rum in his hand. He was humming, though the figure standing in the doorframe could only understand mumbled phrases about bad eggs and drinking. As Gibbs shut the door, Jack indolently removed his feet from the table, waving a hand in the general direction of the seat across from his.

"Matthew, isn't it?" Jack asked, pouring two glasses of rum.

"Aye, sir. Thanks," he said, greedily taking a glass and downing its contents swiftly. Sparrow arched a brow curiously, almost expecting a mumbled apology. Receiving none, he simply poured another drink, then set the bottle down on the table.

Upon closer inspection, the boy's age was hard to gage; twenty-five seemed a near the mark. His face was worn and tired, but held no trace of a beard. Tough calluses upon his hands and the tanned hue of his skin spoke of long times spent at sea, as did the pervasive odor of salt that clung to him. His pale eyes were an ocean grey, and raven-dark tresses were shorn close to his skull.

His clothes were more like rags, caked with dirt and who knows what else. Some of the stains, red-brown in hue, seemed likely to be blood. The sleeves of his shirt, which may once have been white, were in tatters, revealing bruises and cuts on his arms and wrists, which Matthew seemed to pointedly ignore.

"Captain Jack Sparrow," the elder said, though he'd introduced himself earlier. Matthew only nodded, so the Captain went on. "If y'don't mind me asking, how'd y'end up floating around like that by yerself?"

Jack had half-expected something about a storm, or pirates, or an unfortunate accident. Instead, he received a shrug. "I don't know. I think I hit my head on something at some point or other, because I don't remember. I was on a ship, and then I wasn't."

Jack nodded. "Which ship?" he queried.

"Cain."

"Haven't heard of 'er."

"Nice ship, nothin' really special though." Matthew shrugged again, something he seemed to do often. What he really meant was that he didn't want to talk about it.

"Merchant vessel?" Jack asked, though he suspected the answer.

"No. We were pirates."

Sparrow smiled.

At that moment, one of the crew came in, bearing a platter with a simple meal on it, consisting of a loaf of bread, cheese, a few apples, and some water. There were also two plates alongside the food, as well as a pair of knives. Setting the tray on the table between the pair, he nodded to his captain before leaving, closing the door behind him. Both Matthew and Jack looked at the fare for a long moment, before Jack finally set about cutting off a few slices of the bread, and shoving them on a plate towards his companion.

"Dig in," Jack said, motioning languidly towards the plate. "You wanting to look for your old crew?"

A slight smile crossed the other's lips, and he shook his head. "I don't remember what happened," he mumbled, between bites of bread and cheese, "but I figure Fate probably had a reason for kicking me off the Cain, just as She probably had a reason for having me found by you... so I won't argue with Her." The Captain considered his words, nodded silent approval to himself.

"Gibbs seems t'think you're worth your salt. Are you?"

Matthew smiled, "You're the captain, sir. I'd have to say that's up to you."

"Yer on then. Prove your worth by the time we get to Tortuga in two weeks time, and you'll be an official part of me crew." He stuck his hand out across the table, and Matthew grasped it. "Good to have you aboard, Matt."

Matthew smiled to himself. The night was getting old by now, and the horizon was invisible, the sea and the sky blurred by the inky darkness. The ocean waters were a mirror to the full moon and stars which were suspended in that black void, and Matthew stood, staring out into the shadows.

His meeting with the captain had gone well. He'd never imagined that he'd end up on Jack Sparrow's crew. Sure, he'd heard stories aplenty of the man, but none of them seemed to fit the perpetually drunk, sun-struck man he'd met. One never could trust the tales heard on the open sea and in the bars and brothels of Tortuga; they were usually more fantasy than fact. But Captain Sparrow seemed to hold a certain intelligence in those dark, kohl-lined eyes, and his crooked grin always seemed to indicate that he knew something others didn't. Jack was handsome, he thought, but still... He shook his head. This was no time for girlish musings. He'd been told he had two weeks to prove his worth, any swag he earned in the meantime was his, and when they arrived in Tortuga, Jack would decide whether or not he could stay. It was a sweet deal.

He crossed his arms across his chest, feeling the new linen of his shirt's sleeve. He'd received new clothes, and a cutlass that now hung reassuringly on his hip. He'd even succeeded in acquiring some new cloth to bind his chest, to preserve the boyish figure which was necessary for his peace of mind. The captain had requested a bath for him, and he'd scrubbed at the cuts and bruises which salt water had already cleansed. He enjoyed the feeling of cleanliness, though he knew it would be short lived. Fortunately, he thought, the full stomach should last a good two weeks, longer if I can prove I'm useful.

"Mr. Brown," a voice hailed him, interrupting his reverie, "shouldn't you be sleeping? First day tomorrow and all that?" Matthew turned, offered a slight smile to the Captain.

"I think I'll be fine. Too fine a night to pass up spending a small while on deck." Jack grinned, stepping forward to stand at the railing near Matt's side. He nodded in agreement, looking out to sea with an unreadable smile.

"We're headed to Tortuga. You know anyone there?" he asked, trying to strike up a conversation with the young man at his side, who shook his head.

"My mum died a few years back, and my father stopped comin' home. I assume 'e died, too. My old crew might be there, but..." and he trailed off.

"Y'd rather not see 'em, I understand. They the ones that beat the crap out of you?"

Matt shrugged, "Don't remember. Wouldn't put it past them, though." The pair stood in silence, watching the waves. Jack furrowed his brows.

"Can't imagine what that's like."

"What?"

"Not remembering what happened to you. Wakin' up in the middle of the ocean, bein' sure yer gonna die, and having no clue how y'got there." He smiled, "I mean, o'course I've been drunk and forgot stuff, like a wench's name, but never anything like what's happened to you."

Matthew shrugged his shoulders helplessly. "Jack?" he enquired after a moment's silence, then hastily corrected himself, "Er, Cap'n."

"Jack's fine. There's nobody else out here," he said.

The younger man smiled, "I just wanted to thank you, for the clothes and cutlass and all that... and most obviously, for fishing me out. Y'could have easily just left me out there t'die."

"No problem," he said, "y'can make it up to me by making yourself useful, and we'll call it even, a'ight?" Matthew nodded. "Now, I'm gonna go t'me bed, and I suggest you do the same." He turned, and walked away. Matt smiled to himself as he watched the other leave.

Author's note: Chapter two. Joy. As per usual, Matt is mine, anything you recognise from Pirates of the Caribbean isn't (i.e.: Jack, Gibbs, the Pearl, etc.). Just a reminder/clarification, in case you forgot/were confused, Matthew is really a girl. I use 'he' to describe her because that's how everyone else sees her, as a boy. Enjoy. You'll find out more about her/him later. Promise.

Review Responses:

heather 321: I'm glad you understand now. grin You're right, the flashback was repetitive, so I just fixed it. Joy! I should be doing my homework, but this is just so much more fun!

Sirius Black Here: Thanks. I'll try.

Anne Carmichael: Suspense? What suspense? Thank you! Wow, I feel loved! I have loyal readers/reviewers.

Lady Laffs-a-lot: That may be true, but please do try to keep your reviews pertaining to my story. Reviews are supposed to help me make sure I'm on the right track, or tell me what I can improve. Yours does neither.

Reese Sparrow: Yer too kind, sir, truly. And I'll try. I just finished sketching this weird diagram o' the Pearl, since tha's where most o'the story takes place. I just figgered out where everythin' is, so I'll start writing straight away. Ta. :)

Shimmergloom: You echo my thoughts exactly when I read the extremely creepy romances between Jack and time-traveling high school girls. However, just a small note, you'll note that the only reference to her age is from the point of view of others guessing how old she/he is, judging by his lack of any facial hair and the fact that his voice isn't very deep. Her real age will be revealed later, but she is actually older than she looks. I might modify the previous chapters later to make him appear older, and have her be a few years older still. But as I said, I don't know if I'm going to do a romance or not. I probably won't decide until I've written eleven chapters, at least (I have the summaries/plans for the first eleven chapters already written). For now, I want to keep all my options open, and focus on those first eleven chapters.