A/N: Yes, yes, i know this one's a bit late, i've been a tad busy, but i managed to get this typed up rather quickly. That's the beauty of having a hard copy of a huge chunk of your story! (there's a little life lesson, kiddies.) Anyway, on with the story!


Annabelle was scrubbing the deck for the 4th time that day, probably because St. Claire wanted to see her suffer. She wouldn't give him that satisfaction, though. She planned to do every grueling chore with pleasure, or at least feigned pleasure, just to spite the bastard.

As the water slid across the finished wood, she swore under her breath, for she had been cleaning all day and her knees were far past sore.

St. Claire strutted over to her, kicking over the bucket of water next to her in the process. "After you're done here, Captain," he spat, putting particular emphasis on the word 'captain', "you'll be peeling potatoes down in the galley."

Annabelle sighed. "Peelin' potatoes, James? Is that really the best you can think of?" she asked dramatically, only to be grabbed harshly by her hair, and jerked so that she faced St. Claire.

"Actually," He hissed venomously, "that's all the thought I was willin' to put into it, Lit'l Anna." Annabelle cringed inwardly. He knew she hated that name. "After all, it's only you, so why worry so much?" And with that, Annabelle was practically thrown in the direction of the galley, cursing St. Claire in every language but English.


Two months later, Annabelle sat in her small room, thankful St. Claire didn't make her work at night. Probably 'cause he knows I'll jump overboard or steal a rowboat and get away. She thought to herself. She resumed staring at the ceiling for a couple more minutes before her stomach started growling; she hadn't eaten much of anything in three days, probably because she had been kept busy with all the chores she could handle.

Ignoring her aching limbs, she crept out her door and towards the galley. Once she had soundlessly pushed open the door, she crept around nervously, grabbing some food, water and a couple bottles of rum.

As she tiptoed back to her room, she could hear crashes and drunken laughter coming from the main deck, meaning that her creeping around was unneeded. However, it also meant that someone would come back down for more rum at any moment…which was exactly what the footsteps she heard were caused by.

Quickening her pace, Annabelle practically ran towards her door, flung it open and bolted inside. She leaned against the door and started laughing quietly.

She had been nervous for nothing; even if someone did see her, they would probably be too drunk to care.

Sitting down on her small crappy bed, Annabelle uncorked one of the bottles of rum and took a long swig, savoring the burning sensation it made at the back of her throat. She sighed as she fell back onto the bed; this, like always, was going to be a long night.


Annabelle woke the next day to the sound of someone pounding on her door, and a gruff voice shouting, "Hurry up, Jameson, we're taking a li'l trip to Tortuga."

Now, normally, Annabelle would jump at the chance to visit her favorite little town, but under the circumstances, it was sort of drained of it's fun.

Annabelle rolled out of bed, stretched lightly and quickly rimmed her green eyes with kohl before throwing open her door and following St. Claire to the main deck. "Lousy bastard. Drain the joy out 'o Tortuga for me, will ya? If only I had me effects, then I'd…" she mumbled, resulting in being turned around by St. Claire. He looked at her evilly and sneered,

"That be Captain Bastard, ye wench."

Annabelle, in return, only stared at him defiantly and said, "First off, I'm no wench, ye stupid blighter. Second, I will never, EVER address you as Captain, because you will never deserve such a title, for you are most likely the ugliest, stupidest thing to walk the Earth."

The next thing she knew, St. Claire's fist collided with her jaw with such force she was thrown straight to the ground. "Kind of saw that coming..." Annabelle said to herself, rubbing her face where she was sure to have a huge bruise later on. She got up, however, determined no to let it get to her.

As she followed St. Claire down the gangplank, she could hear him growl "You better hope you don't get another bout of confidence again, Jameson, or it could mean your life." She rolled her eyes.

Man alive, this guy's got some major ego issues. Come on, you mangy cad, "it could mean your life"? That's about the most pathetic threat I've 'eard in a while. She thought, smirking wickedly at her subconscious's defiance to the stupid asshole that walked in front of her.

She was pondering how such a stupid human being could ever manage to captain a ship when she noticed that they had come to the front doors of a pub. She rushed forward and held open the door, looking at St. Claire and smirking. "Ladies first." She quipped, before being shoved roughly aside. She could feel the blade of a sword cutting a shallow wound in her leg, but she ignored it; she knew the right buttons to push to make St. Claire just mad enough and it could prove to be used much to her advantage (and entertainment).

St. Claire pulled Annabelle into a seat, however unfortunately it was with him. She rolled her eyes in disgust at the prospect of having to sit on his lap, but managed to distract herself from the unholy spectacle by scanning the room to see who was the drunkest so far.

After a while of her little game, she began to get bored again and decided to actually start listening to the conversation between St. Claire and his crew. This only reminded her of when she used to give little talks to her own crew, who she remembered were all dead thanks to him.

"…And so we'll be able to disappear conveniently afterwards." St. Claire finished smugly. This was greeted by Annabelle clapping sarcastically and sighing,

"Very impressive, yes…blah blah blah…"

St. Claire turned to Annabelle, growling, "And I suppose you have a better plan, then Jameson?"

Annabelle turned to St. Claire, her eyes giving off a mischievous glint. "So I see we're back on a last name basis? No more "Lit'l Anna" or "wench"? James, I really am appalled!" She replied in a mock-pompous tone.

The salty ocean water residue stinging the wound on her leg as St. Claire pressed his dagger to it once again served as a rebuttal to her comment. However, she was determined not to show pain, so she simply smiled at St. Claire and patted his hand, turning back to her 'spot the drunkest' game.


A few hours later, St. Claire, Annabelle and the crew of the Shadow were making their way down the streets of Tortuga again, a couple swords and a pistol pointed inconspicuously at Annabelle's back to ensure that she didn't try to escape.

"You know, this really isn't necessary." She reasoned half-heartedly as she was pushed along the street.

"You know damn well it is, wench." St. Claire snapped, which made Annabelle chuckle lightly.

"Aye, I guess it is." She laughed, ignoring the blades being poked into her back as her sarcasm continued.

Suddenly, however, Annabelle saw something from the corner of her eye that she had almost forgotten about, given the recent circumstances. Her eyes lighted up, for she had a good idea that this could very well mean her only chance of escape.

"Sparrow!" she shouted without any further thought.

She instantly regretted it, however, for as soon as she saw that she had gotten Jack's attention briefly, she was pulled into a nearby alley, a hand clapped over her mouth.

St. Claire looked at her, his eyes looking absolutely livid. "Now, what did I tell ye about keepin' yer mouth shut, Lit'l Anna!" he growled, before once again sending a brutal punch at Annabelle's jaw. A small cry leapt from her throat, and she suddenly felt a sharp, burning pain in her abdomen as St. Claire pulled out his dagger and stabbed her exceptionally hard just below her ribcage.

"I guess ye were completely useless after all." He said after what seemed like hours. He stepped back, allowing Annabelle to fall forward a bit. He pulled his dagger out and kicked her over, walking back to his ship with his crew and leaving her for dead.


Gasp! What will become of our dear Captain Annabelle? Stay tuned to find out! chapter 4's coming soon to a computer near you!

XOX Tara