I s'pose a disclaimer is needed about now, eh? Sooo, as much as I'd love for the oober great Jack Sparrow and POTC to be mine, it all belongs to a cartoon mouse.

Darn it! Anything not familiar, however, is MINE! You can't take that away from me, Disney! And thanks to my 2 lovely reviewers… you got me finally motivated enough to write another chappie… I was worried no one liked the story.


Captain Sparrow stood at the helm, thoroughly soaked to the bone. The previous night had brought on a storm of hellish proportions, and if he had not had a death grip on the wheel, Sparrow surely would have gone overboard. The storm had forgotten one thing, though… he's Captain Jack Sparrow! The greatest pirate to sail the Spanish Main, nay, the entire oceans! Pillager and plunderer, with the fastest ship in the Caribbean. He had stood strong against the battering waves, his knuckles white grabbing on to the helm. Now he called orders to his crew so that his beautiful ship could be repaired and return to sailing at one hundred percent.

"Gibbs!" Jack called to the grizzled old man standing at the prow of the ship.

"Aye Captain, what you be needin'? 'Tis bad luck, it bein' so calm after such a storm…" Gibbs looked warily out to the glassy waters.

"Gibbs, mate! Stop being such a mess deck lawyer on all accounts of superstition. The crew just battled out one of the strongest gales of the year! Now can ya go and grab your cap'n a clap o' thunder?" Jack swung up his hand in a mock gulp of alcohol.

"Aye cap'n…. but I'd still be on the watch for some ominous sign of certain death and destruction," Gibbs muttered on as he headed down towards the galley.

Not two seconds after Gibbs disappeared below deck, a shout rang out from Lee in the crow's nest.

"MAN OVERBOARD!" Free crewmembers rushed to the rails, urgently scanning the waters. Lee waved frantically over at the starboard side, and that's where they found her. A woman, in her early 20s they guessed, was floating on a miniscule piece of wreckage. The wake around her was littered with splintered planks and chests; clearly the ship she had been on did not survive last night's storm. The crew made haste, lowering a man down the side of the Pearl until he could reach the woman. She was pulled up from the water and handed gently over the rails, where the crew laid her on the glistening deck.

The girl was by no means gorgeous but certainly a sight for sore eyes. Her brownish-red hair was plastered to creamy skin that had a tint of brown. She was wearing a battered gown that did not require a corset, and although her muscles were not washboards, she was certainly not out of shape. In fact, her slight stomach and rounded face certainly enhanced her features, especially in the eyes of some rather horny Caribbean pirates. The most noticeable thing, though, was the large half-foot gash in her side and the large cut going down the left side of her face, across her eye. It was a miracle to survive 5 minutes in a ferocious storm; she had somehow survived the entire night. They gave her room when Jack stepped forward to inspect the Pearl's newest passenger.

"Not looking too good there, love," he commented to no one in particular. Looking up, Jack stared at his crew. "Well, we wouldn't want to be tripping over her would we? Someone take her to the sick bay," Jack turned comically on his heel and strode back to the helm.

The girl was still unconscious when Jack left the helm for a much needed break. Curiosity getting the better of him, he slunk into the sick bay to observe the mysterious woman. After staring at her for a few minutes, he hesitantly stuck out a finger. With the upmost and most deliberate slowness, his outstretched phalange moved closer and closer to her cheek. When his finger finally hit its target, and realizing that she was not going to magically wake up and bite him, Jack continued to prod her face like a little boy poking at a puffy corpse he might have found in a river. Only this girl had been found in the ocean, and she was most certainly not a corpse... yet.

Her breathing was shallow and strained for 2 more days after being pulled aboard. On the third day, Gibbs came rushing to the deck, his face red and beaded with sweat.

"CAP'N! The lass, she be waking!"


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so sorry this is so short! I had to get another chappie out though so you all know I'm still alive. Soon! The next chappie shall be posted much sooner and should be much longer.