"Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known."
- Carl Sagan

Chapter Four

An entire week on this blasted pirate ship and nothing has changed. In fact, my boredom is so high that I am ready to combust! I hope we reach land soon before I am tempted to throw myself over the side of the Black Pearl.

The crew has convinced each other that I'm sleeping with Jack, but they would never say this to my face, and are too cowardly to mention it to him. Even they know never to disrespect their captain. I, on the other hand, could care less. But considering the high tension level between Jack and I, I've been spending a lot of time away from him. Which, I'm sure, confuses his crew even more.

But not everyone on the ship considers gossip their only source of entertainment. Rodney, a man who looks about my age with dark hair and ocean blue eyes, would rather speak with me than aboutme. And I have to admit, I really respect that.

Rodney Baker is the most polite man on the ship, the closest to a gentleman, but he still enjoys a good laugh. I don't think I've spent more time with anyone else, including Jack. Rodney and I just clicked from the beginning.

"You lived in London?" I am surprised with how much we have in common. "I grew up there!"

Rodney looks just as surprised as myself. "Why did you leave?"

I quickly thought up an excuse. "I wanted to travel. Can't stay in one place too long." I'm used to making up stories to explain my past and even the present. I can't just run around telling everyone the truth; it would put myself, and even others, in danger.

He smiles, and it reaches his diamond eyes. "I know exactly what you mean."

Rodney has watch duty this evening up here in the sparrow's nest,and I decided to join him. Spending time with this unlikely pirate is more interesting than reading alone in Jack's quarters, or helping the cook down in the galley. Which I will never do again, by the way. I couldn't cook anything if Satan's wraith depended on it!

Quiet words are heard being exchanged from below us. I smile when I hear my name, and gesture with a finger pressed to my lips for Rodney not to let the three know we can hear them. He returns my mischievous grin.

"Nah, I 'eard 'em fightin' last night. That girl's got a tongue on 'er! If she was just a whore, the cap'n would be takin' none of it! I think there's more to it than that." I don't recognize the voice.

"Are you sure they was arguing?" Another asks.

"Yep."

"Why else would she be here? You don't think Jack's taken a likin' to her, do ye? Maybe the bastard's finally gone mad!"

I have to resist from laughing. Jack Sparrow doesn't think above his belt; there's not a chance he would ever care anything for me! He's a typical black hearted pirate.

"Maybe he's gonna drop her off at the port in Helena. . ." the first man muses.

"Course not!" I recognize this voice as AnaMaria's, the sharp-tongued, ebony skinned woman who often steers the Black Pearl at night. "Ye remember what happened the last time we docked there! Jack's not so daft as to stop there again."

Helena Port: I'm more than familiar with that name. I've been there many times because of two friends who I often visit, but there's also a rivalry present at that particular Port. That man would not be happier than for my arms to be cuffed behind my back and my head in a noose!

"What happened in Helena?" I whisper to Rodney.

His eyes dart from Jack, safe and sound at the helm of the ship, and back to me. "We were attacked. Jack was shot twice in the chest. . . he almost died."

Something clutches at the muscles in my stomach. "Attacked by whom?"

"We don't know."

8888

Jack gives me a small, quick smile as I approach him at the helm. But it's not a second later that it's disapeared.

"It's your turn," I tell him.

"Hmm?" Jack responds like he didn't even notice I was standing next to him.

"To tell me a tale. Helena Port ring any bells?"

Jack stares for a moment as though my intentions are written clearly across my forehead."Just one. Wha' about it?"

My eyes narrow at him. "Apparently you were attacked," I watch him closely as I bluntly enquire, "Who shot you, Jack?"

He turns his attention completely to the blue waters before him, but I know he's not ignoring me. His face is thoughtful and his mind debating. "I'm a wanted man, Andie," he informs me, "It could have been anyone."

"But it wasn't just anyone. Was it?"

"I don't know."

"What happened that night?"

I feel as though the conversation may open an entire new door for this mission. Maybe the attack on that particular night is linked to what I'm supposed to stop?

"Me crew and I were repayin' some debts, as ye will. But before the gold was in the man's hands, it was gone, leavin' the six of us a bloody mess."

"But you don't know who took it?" I ask.

"It was pitch black, darling. Look, I doubt that night's gonna interfere with yer mission. Just forget about it, savvy?"

But I can argue with that. "Wrong, Jack. I believe it has everything to do with it," I claim. "Remember I told you the woman saw you being attacked but she didn't know anything vital?" I ask.

The gold in his teeth glints with the fading daylight. "So the fact alone of me life bein' on the line isn't important enough for ye?"

"No," I draw, resisting the urge to reply with a more jeering remark. "If we don't have enough details, it's useless."

I momentarily glance at the open v-neck of Jack's dirty white shirt, but the pair of shot wounds aren't visible. I'll be sure to ask about them tonight.

"But look, Jack. She said everything was black. She could barely even see you! A woman was calling your name and she recognized the Black Pearl. That was pretty much it."

"And how did the lass come across this 'sight'?" Jack skeptically questions. "A dream? A vision?" he asks. He's making fun of me, no doubt.

"She's a gypsy," I feel so foolish, but I'd be damned if I let him know that! "She can read rose water."

"What the bloody hell is that?"

"What's it sound like you git?" I defend, "It's pure water with rose petals."

Jack looks entertained. "And how exactly do ye read a plant? Last time I checked, there are no words on 'em," I glare hazel eyes at him. "Oh, let me guess. . . she can read the stars too?" He teases.

"Bugger off!" I shout back at him as I turn away. His chuckling mocks me as I walk across the deck to Rodney, who is currently off watch duty and now hoisting a newly repaired black sail.

I lied to him earlier, and said that a friend of mine had some trouble in Helena Port a few months back, and I was wondering if the attacks were linked in any way. I've become so good at lying that it's now almost a tick.

"What did he say? Anything useful?" My new friend asks me.

"Useful to my plan of killing him!" I reply, now throughly pissed off. That man just burns me up!

"You're an angry one, aren't ye?" Rodney has a warming smile.

"You haven't even seen the worst," I warn, "Just you wait!"

8888

Jack's desk is in a desperate need of cleaning and organization. I'm so busy searching through useless crap that I don't even hear him enter the cabin.

"Why, may I ask, are ye goin' through me things?" the pirate asks from behind me.

"Don't flatter yourself," I don't even bother to raise my eyes from the task at hand, "You don't have a thing in here that would peak my interest," I declare.

But despite my words, a small glass bottle in the corner of the drawer does catch my eye. Kept inside the clear depths are two large bullets, clean of crimson blood and flesh, and almost glow next to the candlelight.

"Except these. . ."

"I thought I told AnaMaria to toss those," Jack muses.

"Good thing she enjoys ignoring you," I comment halfheartedly. Turning the bottle upside down, the bullets fall gracefully into the palm of my hand. I almost could grimace at the sight of them and the cold that spreads to my toes. A clue. "These are real silver," I announce, then turn to Jack. "Who shoots with real silver bullets?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Someone shootin' at me?"

"Normal people don't load their pistols with these." I drop the bullets back into the small bottle, secure the cork and confidently hand it over to Jack. "Hold this." I begin my raid through his desk once again. Tons of old yellowed maps fill the drawers. "Christ, Jack, how can you find anything in here?"

He fishes through the cabinets for a bottle of rum. "I don't." Finding one, he uncorks it with a grin and takes a triumphant gulp. "What on Earth are ye lookin' for?"

But I'm too busy not listening to him. "All I want is a fucking piece of paper!" I close the last drawer in order to search through a new one. "I'm so thankful to be a woman. . . we're born with the obsessive compulsive organization gene."

Jack swats my hands away from the furniture and dishes deep for a crisp piece of parchment. "Here," he also takes out a quill and a bittle of ink.

"Finally," I say. "Thank you."

"What do ye need that for, anyway?"

"I'm drawing a picture of your grave," I grin at him over my shoulder.

"Charmin'," Jack says, removing his hat from his head. I have to look away when he starts on his jacket and shirt. Although I admit, it did take a moment.

I scratch down the only clues that have surfaced on the crisp white parchment paper, with the practically brand new quill and ink. I find keeping track of them can only help. I know Jack thinks I'm daft as it is, but what could it hurt?

When I turn back to Jack, he's lying on his bed, bottle of amber rum in hand. His chocolate eyes are watching me intensely, his lips pressed into a thoughtful line.

I decide to join him, my intent set on the twin scars above his right breast. I've been all business lately, and I know why: distracting myself so I do not get involve with the pirate. Well, those thoughts are seemingly very foolish at the moment.

Jack carefully follows my very every move. "What are ye doin', love?" he narrows his sight as I brush fingers over the healed shot wounds.

"Just curious," I explain.

My hand travels lower, over silky muscles and sun kissed skin.

"Curiosity killed the cat." Jack's eyes flutter closed as my lips follows in suit, trailing fire down warm flesh. My tongue smoothly trails out over his navel, and Jack's hand instinctively tangles in my thick black hair.

"I thought ye said none of this," Jack refers to my words the first week on the Pearl.

"I did," my kisses and nips make their way back up his sculpted chest. I take my time, deliberately torturing him. "I'm supposed to be hunting a new evil," I say.

"And this?" Jack questions, releasing a low moan as one of my knees slides innocently between his legs and my teeth work on the skin below his ear.

"This," I sigh as rough hands just barely graze my thighs, "Is just a perk that comes with the job."

Jack roughly jerks me forward, kissing me as if the world would be coming to an end. And as those experienced calloused fingers slide beneath my deep red skirts, I realize. . . maybe it is.

Before we really get started, a rough pounding on the door interrupts.

"Bloody hell," I murmur. My forehead leans against Jack's shoulder, where I mentally curse everyone and everything that ever existed.

"Captain," Rodney calls from outside the door. "Both AnaMaria and Nolan have fallen ill. We need you out on deck."

Jack heaves an unsated sigh into my neck. "Duty calls, darling, as much as I wish it wasn't."

I roll off him, but I'm highly disapointed. His taste, his warmth, his caress. . . it's addicting. I watch him the entire time he dresses, and I smile when I notice he's trying not to glimpse back at me. He does anyway.

I'm on a roll with this story. I hope it lasts.

P.S. I love my reviewers.

Sereture: Glad you like.

Cap'n of the Deep: I'm not really into Greek mythology either, but I thought it would be interesting to include something with it in this story. And the line about the black winged creature was my favorite as well!

Jadeddreamz: Thanks! I'll be sure to keep writing.

Psychotic kitten: Thank you, darling! I did a little research, but most of it I made up. I love to take bits of true information from something real and then add onto it and come up with my own little story. Warping history is more fun then it sounds.

Terradaina: Haha. That comment made me laugh for like five minutes. I hope the little bit of lusty action at the end of this chapter didn't disappoint you.

Super monkey289: Madly brilliant? Haha, score! The thing with lengthy chapters are, if I write nine pages and then post it, it seems much shorter than that on But they are pretty long when I originally write them. I just don't have the time to write fourteen page chapters. Who does?

Orlando's Hot Chick: Here you go, darling! Hope you enjoyed.