A/N: I apologize profusely for the lateness of this chapter. I have just been swamped with stories I have to write not to mention roleplays I've been suckered into (and then of course there's school...haha, that's high on my list of priorities :P). Anyway, here's a fun look into Jack and Storm's past together. Enjoy!

JenDraca: That was short Jen, but you did get your point across.

Anaknusan: Yay! ::huddles happily under Johnny Depp poster:: Heh heh, I love the drawing scene. The sad thing is I actually drew Jack's stick drawing, just for fun (I'd say I was rather bored). Anyway I've finally updated! What are ye doin' readin' this lass? Go to the story!

Dreamgirl21147: Awww, you're so sweet. Thanks. I love the twins too , they're so much fun to write, read on and you'll see I threw in a bit for them.

Random Character: I smell like cheese??? Well then my insane friend, you have a rutabaga nose!! So there! Read on Macduff! (Sorry, english class has brainwashed me).

Disclaimer: StormMine, JackNot mine. Simple enough?

The sun was hanging just over the horizon when Jack returned to his quarters. Dusk's twilight filled the room, and he noticed that Storm was stretched out on his bed, fast asleep. He crossed the cabin and stood next to her prostrate form and watched her slumber.

Her head had rolled to one side and a few braids obscured her face. Her feet were bare and she'd removed the kohl from her eyes. She lay partially on her side, facing the wall, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. In sleep, Jack realized, she looked much younger than she was. Not vulnerable or naïve as youthful girls are prone to be, but simply unburdened, no anger or resentment to cloud her simple beauty.

All of a sudden, Jack was reminded of their first meeting.

::Flashback::

Jack's foremost thought when he first saw Storm O'Connor was what any adolescent boy's first thought would be when he had caught sight of even a mildly attractive girl. This would be, approximately; 'drooooooooool', along with several other thoughts that are not fit for print.

However, his more shrewd and alert side (the one that wasn't completely ruled by hormones) paid more attention to details. Storm had a way of moving, even when she was struggling against guards, that seemed to languish, if that were possible. Her expression was lazy, if somewhat annoyed at her treatment, but her eyes held great cunning.

She didn't look like a pirate, but that was because she wasn't one yet. She did, however, look like someone with the potential to be a pirate. She wore a beige blouse-type shirt (it might have been white once) and a skirt that appeared to have been sewn together from at least one hundred different coloured rags. On her head was a feathered cap reminiscent of Robin Hood.

She was a skinny lass, underfed, but she still had enough of a figure to attract Jack's attention. Although...if someone took the pains to attach breasts to coat rack it would have attracted Jack's attention. He wasn't of discriminating tastes.

When they first met, Jack was in prison. It was his first time, quite a milestone in his life. He and his mate, Anthony Barbossa, had been caught pickpocketing and until, some official decided to deal with them, they'd been left to rot behind bars. He was slightly worried, however. The two of them had recently joined the ship's crew of the Defiant, as cabin boys. The ship was a pirate vessel and was captained by Luke Callahan.

Jack was worried that if they didn't get back by nightfall, the ship would leave without them. After all, who would miss a pair of scrawny cabin boys?

He and Anthony watched with interest as five guards dragged the bizarre, struggling girl towards their cell. She wasn't alone either. There was another girl behind her, a redhead, dressed slightly more conservatively than the other...except for the long slit in her skirt.

The first girl, who Jack would later learn to be nicknamed Storm, was screaming all sorts of abuse at her captors. Mixed in were threats, complaints and some interesting profanity. As she came within a few steps of the bars she yelped. One of the guards had pinched a particularly fleshy part of her body. With great speed, she pivoted and elbowed the lecherous guard in the ribs. She turned and did it again to his other side.

Both prisoners and guards watched in startled amazement as she scolded the gasping offender.

"That is not yours to touch!" She berated, "What would your mother say if she were here to see this?"

She continued her lecture even as she and her friend were unceremoniously herded into the cell next to Jack and Anthony's.

"She'd tell you to mind yer bloody manners!!!" She yelled after their retreating backs. "Yeah, you run away!" She let go of the bars and turned to her friend, jerking her thumb in the direction of the officers, "bloody cowards."

With a heavy sigh, she sat down cross-legged on the stone floor. She took off her hat and ran her fingers impatiently through unruly short black locks, and glanced up at the other occupants of the prison.

"Ello there, mates," she greeted cheerfully, "Seems as we're fish stuck in the same net, we might as well get to know each other."

She extended a hand between the bars, "Name's Storm O'Connor." She gestured towards her companion, "this lass here is Faye Roberts."

Jack grinned and took her hand with enthusiasm. "I'm Jack Sparrow." He winked at her, "Ye can call me Jack."

Storm grinned back, "Pleased to meet ye, Sparrow." As Jack mused over the meaning of this response, she turned to Anthony. "And you, mate?"

His face devoid of expression, Anthony replied, "Barbossa."

Faye raised an eyebrow, "That's it?"

Jack snorted, "His name's Anthony," Anthony shot him a poisonous look, "But he doesn't want ye to know that. He doesn't think it suits him."

Storm appraised him for a moment. "He's right, it doesn't." She patted his hand, "don't worry, mate, maybe ye'll grow into it."

"So what are ye in here for?" Jack asked the girls.

Storm and Faye glanced over at each other and smiled conspiratorially.

"Wouldn't you like to know," Storm said mysteriously.

Jack wrinkled his brow. "Yes, I would like to know."

The two girls stuck their tongues out.

"Well, that's too bad for you then, in'nt?" Faye replied with an impish grin.

There was silence between the four youths for a moment. Storm turned to Faye.

"I think I've had my fill of this."

Faye nodded and smiled wickedly. "I have too, and methinks I see our way out."

She pointed towards the stairs where a scruffy sentry was making his way down. His clothes were grubby and he looked like he hadn't shaved in several days. His face was in the awkward and ugly not-hairy-enough-to-be-a-beard-but-hairy-enough-to-be-grotesque phase. He was carrying a bottle of some kind of cheap liquor in a hand that hadn't been washed since birth. He was, in one word, unsavoury.

Storm rubbed her hands together. "Well, ye know to do," she said quietly to Faye. "Let's get to work."

The two girls stood up and walked over to lean on the bars. Only they didn't walk, exactly. They sashayed. They shook their hair around and stood with one hip out, trying to catch the guard's attention. The guard (who, due to his appearance, most likely hadn't had a lay in a decade) quickly caught sight of them. They pouted sensuously at him and soon gained his full attention.

Storm made a 'come hither' motion with her index finger at him. She did not have to do it twice. The grubby man was at the bars in a heartbeat. He was practically slobbering with desire. It was disgusting. If it wasn't for what the girls were doing it would have seemed that they had almost an angelic disposition just for coming within a hundred yards of the pig.

Jack wrinkled his nose in disgust (and more than a little bit of jealousy) as the girls giggled and pressed themselves against the bars. Faye slipped her hand through, and began running her hands over the sentry's shirt towards his belt, while Storm whispered promises of pleasure in his ears. It was then that the girls' plan became blindingly obvious to Jack. He watched as Faye felt along the man's belt for his keys, Storm distracting the pig all the while.

With a coy smile, Storm brought her face close to the (to put it lightly) over-excited sentry's and, suddenly, she snapped her head forward, slamming her forehead against his, knocking the man unconscious. He slumped and fell like a rag doll to the ground...only with a much louder thump.

"Blarg, I hate doin' that," said Storm, sticking out her tongue with distaste. "Got the keys, Faye, me girl?"

"Aye," replied her friend with a grin, holding up the brass ring.

"Luverly! Now let's be out of this cesspool."

Storm looked over her shoulder at the neighbouring cell and gave Jack and Anthony an impish wave. "Be seein' ye, mates!"

A moment later, she and Faye were stepping through the open cell door (and over the body of the guard) into freedom. As they turned to leave Jack realized what was happening.

"Wait!" He cried.

The two lasses paused and looked back at him with innocently quizzical expressions.

"What ails ye, Sparrow?" Storm asked, her blue-grey eyes sparkling with mirth.

"Ye can't just leave us here!"

The female companions glanced at one another and back again.

"I think we can, actually," Faye replied.

"And that's what we're doin'," finished Storm.

Anthony spoke up. "We'll yell for the guards."

Storm's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I don't think ye'd be that stupid, mate."

"Ye'd be amazed how stupid we can be." Jack's forehead wrinkled, "wait, that didn't come out right."

"If that be the case then, lads," Storm replied, ignoring Jack, "then maybe I'll just cut yer tongues out." She moved to stand in front of the cell door, and leaned forward, smiling like a snake. "That would be much simpler."

"You wouldn't have the bollocks," said Anthony.

"We may not have bollocks, but Faye and I are still thrice the man you are," Storm shot back.

"With those looks I could believe it."

Storm and Faye's eyes darkened with anger and as one they straightened, murder on their faces.

Jack backed slightly away from the girls, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. "Wait, dear ladies!" he pleaded. "Don't listen to Anthony, he's an antisocial moron," at this Anthony looked angrily at Jack and opened his mouth but Jack ignored him, "Listen, we can make a deal!"

Faye raised an eyebrow. "What sort of deal?"

"Anthony and meself work on a ship. If ye lend us a hand, we could return the favor and put in a good word with the Cap'n for ye. Savvy?" Jack had recently heard a crewman use this last word, and he thought it sounded debonair. He was considering adding it to his daily speech.

A shrewd expression crossed Storm's features. She and Faye held a quick whispered consultation-which Jack strained to hear, but it sounded as though they were speaking in code-then they turned back.

"Very well. It's a deal."

Storm held out her left hand to Jack, through the bars, and Faye did the same for Anthony. After they'd all shaken hands Storm deftly pulled the ring of keys from her bodice (where she'd stowed it) and in a smooth movement unlocked the door.

In a flash, the four youths were running lightly down a passage and up the stairs to freedom. Well, Storm and Faye were running lightly. Jack and Anthony were clomping and making as much noise two teenage boys can, which is only a little less than the sound of a charging rhino running on a field of accordions. Storm winced but accepted it, if they made up for their lack of stealth with speed, they'd be alright.

They met no resistance until they were within three steps of liberty. It came in the shape of a door. A locked door for which they had no key. Dimly, in the distance, they suddenly heard a cry of alarm. Somebody had found the sentry, no doubt. Soon the gaol would be overrun with soldiers.

"So what's the plan now?" asked Jack, somewhat sardonically.

Storm didn't bother to even glance at him, instead she examined the lock and allowed herself a smirk. "Don't get yer knickers in a twist, mate. I've got it."

Once again, she slipped her hand into her blouse, this time retrieving a small, sheathed knife. Jack and Anthony watched with male interest at the display, trying to subtly move closer to get a better view. Storm stopped them in their tracks with a baleful glare.

The blade of the knife was very thin and sharp, very useful for lock-picking. For what seemed like a long moment, Storm gently twisted the knife back and forth, her face filled with concentration. She was quite skilled, and soon there came the satisfying sound of a muted 'click'. Storm turned and flashed a pleased grin at Faye.

"Ye'll have to teach me how to do that," said Jack, more than a little impressed.

"After ye get us on yer ship," replied the girl.

She pushed open the door and the small group was surprised to see a disheveled dark-haired boy kneeling on the other side of the threshold. For a moment everyone just stared in shock and then Storm cried out happily:

"James!"

"Samantha!" returned the boy, as he rose to his feet.

Annoyance crossed Storm's face, "I told ye James, tis Storm now."

"Aye," replied James with a grin, "I know that, I just like to irritate ye."

"What are ye doin' here of all places, James?" asked Faye.

"Rescuin' the two of ye, but it seems that's not needed." Just then James seemed to register Jack and Anthony's presence, "Oo are these blokes?"

"Jack Sparrow, at your service," answered Jack with some parody of a courtly bow.

"Anthony Barbossa." Replied his friend sullenly.

"James O'Connor," returned the newcomer.

"They promised to get us on a ship if we sprung them. Which we 'ave, by the way."

"What ship?" asked James.

"The Defiant."

James let out a low whistle, "That's a pirate vessel, in'nt?"

"Aye, that it is."

Storm's grin grew wider, "Even better then!"

More shouts and sounds of running feet drifted up to their ears. Storm seized Jack's hand and started running towards the harbour, "Well let's be off, lads and lasses. Time it is a'wastin'!"

::End Flashback::

"Jack, why are ye starin' at me?"

His bout of nostalgia broken, Jack refocused on Storm's face. Her eyes were open, bleary with sleep but still sharp with suspicion.

"Sorry, luv, lost in thought."

"Ah, yes, well ye don't venture there very often so I can see how ye'd get lost."

"Ha ha," Jack replied drily, "very witty, luv."

"I thought so."

Battling the lingering weariness in her limbs, Storm struggled into a sitting position, bracing her back against the wall behind her. She was partially wrapped in Jack's blanket and had drawn her knees to her chest. The position made her look a little like a child playing hide-and-seek.

She was about to say something to Jack when she was interrupted by an elaborate knock at the door. When Jack opened it, the knockers turned out to be Finn and Sam. Finn was holding a bottle of red wine and Sam clutched a small plate of cheese and biscuits.

"Happy anniversary!" They cried together, Sam's cry a little lackluster.

"Anniversary?" Storm asked incredulously from her perch on the bunk. "What...? How...? It's not our anniversary!"

"Yes, well," Finn replied, waving her hand dismissively, "you do have twelve of them to catch up on so you must as well start now."

She and Sam shoved the random presents into their father's hands and turned to flee.

"Where did you get these?" asked Jack.

"Oh," said Finn innocently, "we just stumbled upon them in our travels. You know on our rounds in the galley's...locked cupboards...secret compartments..."

"Well we must be off," said Sam, grabbing her sister, "we have to attend to...something."

"Enjoy!" Finn yelled as she was dragged away by Sam.

Jack blinked once or twice, and then shut the door with one foot. He looked down at the bottle and plate in his arms.

"Well, that was bizarre," he said.

Storm shrugged. "What would you expect? They are ours."

"True," agreed Jack. "So, what now?"

"You heard them. Hell, it's our anniversary!" Storm threw her hands up with this exclamation. "Pass the wine, would ye?"

A/N: And that's the end of that. Don't worry there shall be some drunken fun in the next chapter. It shall come faster if you review! See you in the next chapter!