Author Ramble #3: Wow! I'm glad to see people are liking my story. Though the plot may seem obvious right this second, its changes a bit later on. So stay tuned to find out what's going on. Anyway, back to this chapter. They are slowly getting longer as I go along. The second was actually 2 pages long, but they always seem shorter upon posting. This one is three. Hope you like it. Thank you for the wonderful reviews and encouragement I have received so far. It is very much appreciated! I luv you all!

Jack strode reluctantly toward the wheel of the Soleil se Levant, attempting to concoct escape plans with every step. A pistol still pushing him along seemed to serve as a warning against such plans as it dug into his lower back.

At the helm stood a lanky, middle aged man dressed in fine captain's attire. His scraggly, graying beard was riddled with tiny braids and random beads. His icy emerald eyes gazed out over the open sea. Voices high above them shouted order in preparation for casting off. Men ran skillfully along the sails as well as the rigging.

"Captain Morel," his captor announced. The man turned to face them with a military like spin on his heels. "This scalawag was rummaging through your quarters."

The captain took several steps forward, boards creaking beneath his polished boots. He paused several feet before the pair, his cold eyes examining every inch of Jack.

"Who are you?" Morel inquired, his blatant French accent dripping from every word. He was surprisingly well spoken and his English proved he had been on the seas of the Caribbean for a long time.

"The Captain asked you a question," the woman exclaimed, pressing the barrel of the pistol into his back a bit harder than she had been.

"Captain Jack Sparrow, sir."

"Welcome aboard my fine vessel, Mr. Sparrow. I see you have already met my first mate, Miss Dean."

"I guess you could say that," Jack replied, a nervous smirk turning up the corner of his mouth.

Morel turned to his captor, and they began to ramble on in French, obviously getting the details of Sparrow's capture and giving her orders. Her pistol was lowered and returned to his place on her waist.

"I apologize for her horrible manners, but you were in a place you shouldn't have been, Mr. Sparrow. Now what shall I do with you?"

"I could dispose of him for you, Captain," Dean proclaimed, her nimble fingers wrapping around the hilt of her sword.

"Not in port, Dean. I have taught you better than that!" Morel looked back at Jack, appearing to ponder the situation presented to him. "What a predicament you have placed yourself in, my good fellow. Miss Dean!"

"Aye, Sir?" The woman stepped up beside Jack and stood at attention, awaiting her orders.

"You will tend to Captain Sparrow until I decide his fate."

"But Sir!" she protested.

"That's an order! You attend to his every request until that time. He is a guest on my ship, and I expect him to be treated as one."

"Aye, Sir," she replied obediently with great reluctance.

"She will show you to your quarters. Now, if you will pardon me, I must attend to the voyage ahead."

"Come along, Sparrow," Dean ordered, already half way down the staircase leading to the lower decks.

Jack followed the first mate through a maze of corridors below the main deck until finally reaching a small cabin several floors down. Water was trickling down the wall opposite the door spontaneously as the ship rocked in the wake of others. An ivory hammock against the wall, swinging in rhythm with the ship.

"This is your chamber. My own is with the crew down the hall. If you require anything, Mr. Sparrow, please hesitate to ask." Dean turned on her heel and started to leave.

"Are you in a hurry, Miss Dean?" Jack questioned.

Dean faced him once more, placing her hand against the doorframe. "Yes, I am."

"And why, I wonder."

"I have developed quite a disliking for you, Mr. Sparrow. I do not enjoy hanging on the whims of those out of my favor."

"Is that so? Its quite obvious from your reaction to my presence in the Captain's quarters. However, the question is...why do you dislike me so?"

"I'm sure that is you review your own recollections, Mr. Sparrow, you will find the answer all on your own." Her eyes were now emitting an icy glare of loathing. "If there are no other inquiries, I will be attending to my regular duties."

"Just one," Jack answered, swaggering toward her with a suggestive glint in his eye. "I have a 'whim' for you to attend to."

"And what could that possibly be?"

Jack's eyes lingered over her voluptuous figure for a few moments before meeting her gaze once again. "Will you join me in a bit of fun later?"

Dean's annoyed continence flushed with outrage. Before he could react, Dean's pistol was pressed against his abdomen. "If you don't watch your tongue, Mr. Sparrow, you will find yourself with quite a lovely singing voice. Am I being clear enough for you?"

"Crystal," Jack replied, fear flowing over his face.