Aye, so, I 'ave given ye a new chapter. Kindness jus' gets the best of me I 'spose. I think there may 'ave been some confusion o'er Jack's agreement with the Commodore an' whether his clemency was still valid. All I meant by wha' the Admiral said was tha' the agreement was useless 'cause it was impossible ta make in tha first place. So, at the present moment, Jack is not a criminal. At the moment.

No Pirates of the Caribbean fer me...

"Right, so ye got it, lass?"

Christina nodded, then shook her head, "Jack, it's too simple. It won't work."

"If it's simple, there's less ways it can back fire, savvy? Ye jus' go down there, get whoever's down there up here an' keep 'em there 'til I give ye the signal. Then, if ye have to, run."

"You've changed it already, Jack! What's the signal?"

"... I'll whistle. Like this," he put a couple of fingers in his mouth and gave a low, barely audible whistle. Christina looked at him incredulously.

"I won't hear that!" she hissed as he started pushing her towards the entrance of the jail.

"Yes, ye will. Relax," he encouraged as she turned back to face him.

"Jack, if I get arrested-"

"Ye won't get arrested, luv."

"But if I do, it doesn't matter. I don't care."

"'Ave ye been arrested before, Christina?"

"...No."

"Then don't go sayin' ye won't care. Thanks fer the thought, though."

And with that, he gently pushed her inside. She took a deep breath before walking calmly down the stairs, careful not to trip over the front of her dress. She smirked, that could ruin her low key entrance quite dramatically. The crew and other pirates piped up when they saw her, like a flock of seagulls when they spotted a morsel of food. She hid her smile and kept coming.

"Be quiet, you bloody pirates!" a voice shouted angrily.

Christina froze a little upon seeing how many other bodies were filling the notably small jail. There were at least two dozen soldiers gathered around a what looked like a table filled with cards. Christina's eyes narrowed with realization and she cleared her throat to announce her presence.

The effect was tremendous. One soldier quickly tilted up the table so that the cards slipped off onto the ground and a couple of the others quickly tried to kick them underneath the desk nearby while the rest made futile attempts to cover it up. They all breathed a collective sigh of relief when they saw it was but the Governor's niece, but still stood upright and tense.

"Officers," Christina greeted casually.

"Miss Lacimore," some of them mumbled sheepishly.

She motioned to the now empty table behind them, "What was so interesting?"

"Nothing," came the slightly unified reply. Christina smirked.

"Funny. I thought I saw playing cards. I don't remember gambling to be a part of your watching the prisoners. And why the crowd?"

"...Well, one of the boys just got word that ... his brother... is engaged. We were celebrating," one of the senior looking soldiers stumbled.

Christina let mock delight light up her face, "Oh! Who was the boy?"

There was a slight pause before three hands slid up and after a bit of mixing up, one hand was left raised.

"Congratulations on your brother's engagement," Christina smiled, "But a question, officers. Since when did celebrating call for the vile act of gambling... and on duty for some of you?"

A couple of soldiers, whom the last words had applied to, looked down at their boots guiltily. Christina nodded with feigned disapproval.

"I'm afraid that the Commodore is going to have to be notified of this," she sighed sadly. Apologetic arguments to her words followed. She shook her head, silencing them.

"No, I really must insist. All follow me right now."

Jack watched all of this from the alley that ran behind the jail, where there was a sole window at ankle level into the cells below.

"Clever girl," he smirked quietly.

"Oi! What are you doing down there?"

Jack whirled his head to see a red coated soldier aiming his rifle ready to shoot. He instinctively lifted his hands and shrugged in a defensive manner.

"What d'ye mean, what am I doin'?"

"Near the window. What are you doin near that window? What's your name?" the soldier demanded.

"... Smith."

"Smith, eh? And where did you come from, Mr Smith?" the soldier inquired haughtily, pleased at finding a future prisoner.

"Down the road...," Jack drifted, motioning outside the alley.

"The only thing down the road is a church, Mr Smith. I 'spose that would make ye a priest?" the soldier smirked.

Jack paused. This was not the first time he would have to impersonate a clerk of the Church of England. He had hoped the first time would be the last, although, he had to admit himself, it was quite the performance. Ah well, time to dust off the old dog collar.

"...Child, why would ye doubt me bein' a priest?" he asked in his most welcoming voice, shooting a worried look down at the window behind him. The soldier cocked his head in surprise.

"You look like you haven't had a bath in months. Your hair is matted. You have make up on... What is a priest doing hanging around the jail's windows anyway?" the he asked suspiciously.

Jack tried not to show his offense taken to the man's observations as he answered, "Outreach program. I was jus' goin' ta offer the prisoners a prayer..."

"So why the get up?"

Jack looked down at himself. He would hardly consider his outfit a 'get up'. Everything was there for a purpose, after all. His shirt and pants for obvious reasons. His sash was to hold his pants up. His belt held his pistol and cutlass. True, that meant he could probably go without the sash but he liked to think it added a distinctive, 'Sparrow' air to his appearance. His coat kept him warm and his hat... it was his hat. Simple.

"Jus' really wanted to get into the part," he muttered sarcastically.

"Well, you should be more careful running around in such a costume at night, Father," the soldier warned, finally lowering his weapon. Jack flashed a tight smile, biting his tongue to keep from retorting to the 'costume' comment.

"Thanks fer the warnin'."

The soldier hovered for a moment, still a little unsure, Jack thought. He couldn't really blame him. In fact, he was a sad excuse for one of the King's Finest if he let Jack get away with such a flimsy cover. He shot another worried look towards the window, knowing the Christina would be wondering what had become of him.

"Father?"

Jack frowned, "Yes?"

"Do you do confessions outside of the church?"

"Uh. 'Course. God's children are always welcome... at all hours of the night... anywhere," he stumbled pathetically.

Relief showed on the soldiers features and he strode towards him, motioning for them to take a seat on the crates near by. Jack took a deep breath before following, stumbling to a sitting position.

The soldier left a good ten minutes later, leaving a stunned and slightly disgusted looking Jack in his wake. Seems that the Admiral's daughter wasn't exactly one for behaving in admirable ways. Jack shook his head, chuckling before he remembered Christina. Blast.

Christina had been leading the soldiers around in the near vicinity of the jail for the past year or so, she felt like. She could hear them grumbling now, probably plotting to end her life. !t wasn't really that paranoid of a thought. They had been dragged away from their game, probably with a lot of money on the line, by the threat of their superior being notified of their wrong doings and they were following a woman that very may well have lost the plot.

"Miss Lacimore, the Commodore's house is that way!" one of them piped up as they passed the street that all knew was where the house was.

Christina pretended to be offended to hide her nervousness, "Are you suggesting that I do not know where my fiancée's house is?"

The soldier fell silent all though his frustrated expression said everything he hadn't.

"Where are you, Jack?" Christina muttered.

There ye are, Jack!" Ana Maria cried back at the jail as Jack swaggered down the stairs. He grinned at his cheery welcome before beginning search for the keys.

"T'the brig, ye scallwags!" Mr Cotton's parrot squawked loudly, making Jack jump. He looked at Mr Gibbs for answers, holding his chest against his racing heart.

"He says the keys be in the top drawer, Cap'n," Gibbs chuckled.

"Oh. Thankye, Mr Cotton...'s parrot," Jack added as an after thought, rifling through the said drawer hurriedly. The pirates cheered when he jingled their freedom before them. He grinned, enjoying the gratitude, too rarely shown by his crew, he thought.

"Hurry up, Jack, ye daft fool. Stop makin' a bleedin' show out o' it an' spring us out," Ana Maria demanded and Jack lowered his brows as he obliged.

The pirates quickly made their ways out of their cells and started up the stairs, Jack just behind them. They had stepped but twenty feet outside when they heard a large amount of footsteps coming down the street they were headed for. Jack, now in the front, stopped and held out his arms to stop those on either side of him.

Christina's eyes grew wide as saucers when she spied Jack and his parade of pirates frozen in the middle of the road. She stopped abruptly in her soldiers running into her and her almost falling over.

"Jack!"

"Christina!"

"The prisoners!" the soldiers realised, starting to run towards them as the pirates withdrew their weapons.

"Wait! Stop!" Christina commanded and very, very reluctantly, the soldiers turned back at her questioningly.

"...I just remembered where the Commodore's house is!... Not that I had forgotten. I knew all along, of course. It's just not that often that I have to get there from the jail. Ha, fancy that... Funny, right?" Christina stalled as Jack silently motioned to his crew to make themselves scarce. The pirates quickly slipped away in different directions into the dark. Jack, catching Christina's eye, who was still talking needlessly about how her knowledge of the Commodore's house's location, pointed in the direction of an alley near by before making haste for it.

"... I mean, to be sure, I haven't really even known him that long if you really think over it. Ten is older than it sounds, after all. But I still know where his house is because... it's his house and... I know where it is," Christina finished.

The soldiers stared incredulously at her. She shrugged hopefully.

"Miss Lacimore, can we please arrest the pirates now?" one of the younger looking soldiers moaned.

Christina smiled slightly, "What pirates?"

The soldiers all spun around to be faced with the empty street. One by one, they turned back to look at her suspiciously. Christina put on a face of immense concern.

"Where are the pirates, Miss Lacimore?" a soldier asked.

"I'm afraid I do not know what you're talking about, officer," she told him apologetically and a little cautiously.

"They were just there!" another red coat piped up.

"It would seem that you are suffering from hallucination, officers. I have rethought my decision to take you to the Commodore. You all go back to the jail and I'll take up the issue of your poor working hours and possible workers abuse with all that terrible foul air down in the jail that seems to have taken a horrific effect on your mental healths," she told them in one breath, making up the charade as she went along. She shook her head sadly at them as they slowly and cautiously retreated back towards the jail.

No one saw Christina duck into the alley that Jack had disappeared into earlier.

So, there ye go. Jack's crew 'ave been set free at last. But at what price, I wonder? I really 'aven't a clue at the moment 'cause I 'aven't written the next part as of yet. Don't tell 'nyone.

An' the last thing is that I've started another fic. It's lackin' reviews so go to me homepage an' take a squiz at it. Tell me what ye think, aye?

Siriusly Sirius Lily Black: Aye, everythin' between Jack an' the ladies is fine and fixed. Jack was very pleased tha' ye see it from his perspective; a very rare gift in a lass. An' I would give Elizabeth yer apologies but she's still rather fragile an' I'd prefer not ta bring it up fer all of our sakes. An' dear William was not angry at yer lass. I think 'im an' Elizabeth still 'ave some business though.

Karibbean: I 'ave a feelin' tha' ye'll like this one. Jus' a feelin' . I like Jack bein' the priest, tha' was fun ta write. An' I'm glad ye liked the last one. That ye could picture Jack makes me very pleased. Cheers.

Ailuro: Luv, I sent yer an email. No response. Very sad. One more chance? Ye don't mess around, d'ye? I feel the pressure. An' if the offer's still open, I would much appreciate an editor. But I'm not sure if this part got through, maybe it got sent t'yer junkmail...