Part 5

"Y-yes, of course, sir, now what can I do for you?" George Halloway asked, trembling so bad that his desk was shaking.

"As ye can see, me sword here isn't in the best o' repair. I'll need it properly cleaned and sharpened, the same with me mates swords." the Captain stated simply, giving an pointed glance to the sign above the door that read; REPAIR AND CLEANING: $5.00.

Mr. Halloway had gotten himself somewhat under control, seeing that this man didn't seem to intend to harm him. "Of course. And when would you need it by?"

"Me and me mates here," Captain Sparrow nodded his head towards Anamaria, Mr.Gibbs, and "Were plannin' on headin' over to that pub down the road from here. We should be out in around three hours."

The stutter returned to Mr.Halloway's voice. He wasn't sure he could finish four swords in only three hours, as he had mainly worked with smaller, more delicate things in the past, but this man in front of him didn't seem like the type of man that would understand this. He would have to do his best. "And wh-who should I m-make this order out to?"

"Captain Jack Sparrow."

George knocked over an old spyglass on a nearby table as he tripped over his wastebasket. There was no way that he had heard right. "C-could you repeat that, sir?"

"Captain Jack Sparrow. Are ye deaf, man?" Jack was becoming annoyed. This man didn't seem to be very intelligent.

Mr.Halloway thought he must have been going insane. Either that, or this man was involved in a reenactment of sorts. He decided to believe the latter. It was safer than doubting his sanity. "N-no, I'm not deaf, just a little hard of hearing," he said, pointing to his hearing aid that he didn't really need, but wore it as a sort of security blanket. He hated it when people needed him to repeat something that he had said clear as day, and didn't want to be a hypocrite, so he convinced his doctor that he had hearing problems. He nearly had himself convinced. Even though George wouldn't admit it to himself, he was a bit of a hypochondriac. He had been on 5 different placebo pills for the last eight years, unbeknownst to him. He had been told that they were for various "problems" ranging from ADD to blood clots.

"Aye, then here be th' swords. Here be part payment now, and ye'll get the rest when we come back," Jack said, placing 2 shillings on the counter as he headed for the door. He believed in stealing only when you needed it, not all the time. He still had a few morals left.

"Yes, sir," George said, not bothering to look at the money placed on the counter as he watched the odd assortment of people walk through his door.

Part 6

Monica walked into Al's Pub in her "uniform". She had managed to get there 10 minutes early on account of her elderly neighbor across the hall lending her his Buick. One of Monica's co-workers was already accounted for; Phoebe, a wiry, older yet quirky woman who was always optimistic, no matter what curves life threw her. She had worked at Al's the longest, and knew how to deal with customers without running the risk of being fired, and somehow maintaining her dignity at the same time. Phoebe, along with the cashier, Mike, were Monica's reasons for staying at Al's. If they weren't there, she didn't think she'd be able to continue to work there without losing her sanity or being fired. Mike was quiet, young, and had a silent "aura" about him, as Phoebe said, that somehow demanded respect. He was a smaller guy, but he never got any flack from anyone about it. There was just something about him.

Monica set to work setting tables as Phoebe worked in the back, starting up the stove and oven, getting ready for the morning "rush", which consisted of three or four of their regulars. At Al's, the morning didn't start until 1:00 in the afternoon. She heard the bells on the door jingle and looked up to see possibly the strangest assortment yet that she had seen in Al's Pub; four unique individuals dressed in many layers of rags and cloth. Unique was definitely an understatement. Her first impression was that of the typical New York street urchin; homeless and looking for a cheap, possibly free meal, thinking that she would have to watch out later to make sure they didn't walk out on the bill. A second glance caused her to change her mind. They weren't street urchins…they looked almost like…pirates. Kind of like the ones she had seen on her occasional trips to Disneyland as a child. The strangest and most captivating of all was the man at the front of the group, who seemed to be a leader of sorts. He had a quiet, confident, almost cocky air about him that made you realize that he wasn't one to be reckoned with. He seemed dangerous, yet you felt perfectly safe around him at the same time.

Monica began to feel uneasy. The last time she had thought like this about a man, she had found herself knocked out on her couch with her apartment ransacked and her TV and stereo system gone. She still hadn't gotten a new TV, due to the fact that she still had rent to pay. She would have to be careful around this guy. The people with him didn't exactly seem like pushovers either. They looked a bit scary to her.

Captain Jack Sparrow walked into the pub with and Gibbs at his side. Anamaria had gone back to the Pearl to tell the crew that they wouldn't be back until later that night, and to "purchase" some food and supplies they had seen on the docks near where they had anchored the Black Pearl. He noticed that it wasn't quite the cleanest place he had seen, but then again, he had been in much, much worse. After all, he was a pirate. But he didn't mind the filth at all. It reminded him a bit of Tortuga, where he wished he was at the moment.

He saw a few waiters and waitresses setting up for the day, milling around about their business. There was quite the assortment of people that worked here. He could see an overweight cook putting on his chef's hat in the back, a small boy who looked to be no more than 16 years old who was just arriving, a thin, wiry woman who looked like a few of the more lenient bartenders in Tortuga, and the most captivating of all, a young, raven-haired woman who reminded him very much of his old friend Elizabeth. Elizabeth had had light brown, almost blonde hair, not black like this woman, but she had the same stunning green eyes and held herself with the same air.

Jack could not help but notice that the waitresses wore "uniforms" very close to the ones worn in Tortuga, although they showed a lot more in the leg area. He watched as the black haired girl went to serve her first customer of her shift. It was an older man with an unshaven beard and a look as if he lived in dirt, which was not the case, as you could tell from his state of dress. He was dressed in a gray sports coat, a black T-shirt, and pressed khaki pants. Jack got an uneasy feel from the man. He didn't trust him. The Captain had lived among scum throughout his life, and was a good judge of character.

Monica went to serve her first customer, one of their more recent "regulars". He had been coming 'round for about 3 weeks now, and always ordered the same thing; coffee, black, with eggs over-easy and blackened toast. Today something seemed different about him. He wasn't sitting in his usual place by the window on the end of the bar, but in the corner of the Pub. He seemed hunched over, and had a wild look in his eyes.

"Excuse me, sir, will it be the usual today?" she asked, trying to get over her uneasiness of the man.

"Yes." He answered simply, looking blatantly about nine inches south of her face.

Monica left to give the order to the cook, and help Mike, who had just got there, set up the bar taps. In about fifteen minutes they would be getting a slew of customers waiting for their afternoon beers, even if it was still quite early in the day. She saw the strange, pirate-looking man watching her. It wasn't a leer, but more of a protective gaze. She caught herself staring back.