ShallowWaters has officially won that promised role. Thanks to Maya Bebop, anyway. To ShallowWaters: I will need a character name, age, hair color, eye color, personality, hobbies, and any extra information you'd like to have. Get this to me via review, if you please.

Special Thanks: To all my reviewers, really. You all inspire me to keep on keepin' on or whatever the hell it is I do. So, thanks.

Disclaimer: Wow, I'm not crying! I don't own any POTC characters, but I do own Venice, Baby, Mariana, and anyone else you don't recognize. Woohoo!

THE VIOLINIST

Chapter Six - For Music

Mariana had never been on a ship before in her entire life. She had been deadly afraid of the sea, never wanting to come in contact with it. The sea was dark and merciless, like the monsters her dreams held.

Gibbs had used to say that it was frightful bad luck to have a woman on a ship. That went back to the tale of sirens, the beautiful womanly creatures who lured men to sea. That in itself was a tale to be wary of, to be sure. But that wasn't the real reason women should not have ever been upon a ship, be it pirate or pure.

You see, it is very difficult to swim in a dress. It is also very difficult to swim in a corset. If a woman were accidentally thrown overboard by some trick of the tide, she would surely drown.

Mariana had never learned to swim, so she was terrified enough already. But to drown due to the weight of her dress was more than she could bear to think of. She had exchanged her clothes for some of Anamaria's old. Though they were dirty and didn't smell quite right, she would rather be stinky than drown.

Jack had not come out of his cabin in three days. Since Mariana refused to play in front of him, the crew had used this time to hear as much of her music as they possibly could before Jack was prowling about on deck again, in as foul a mood as ever, complaining about the food or the way the damned woman seemed to glare at him.

It had also provided Baby with more spare time to be around her.

That god awful pulling in his heart seemed to never cease, but she often soothed it with her presence. Baby couldn't help but have a moronic grin on his face whenever he was around her, and he couldn't help but wonder why. In the night, when he should have been asleep along with all others, he quietly crept into Mariana's quarters.

She was not asleep, as he had expected--she was wide awake, staring out her window. The moonlight bounced off the sea and struck her face so that it was illuminated with a pale glow. She did not even turn as Baby entered the room and not even when he stood by her side.

"I'll never get tired of that ocean," he said with a sigh.

Mariana finally looked up at him. He had a faint smile playing at his lips as he kept his eyes locked on the blue-black never-ending water that stretched in front of them.

"She always looks different, if only just. Maybe the light falls on her surface a bit differently. Maybe she waves a different goodbye." Baby let a little laugh escape his lips. "Of course, she never really says goodbye. She's always there." He looked down. "Do you hate me for it, Mariana?" he whispered.

Her expression went blank for a moment, as if she had not understood what he said. Then her eyebrows furled and she cocked her head at him.

"I mean, for bringing you here," he added. "Bringing you into this god awful scene--this life." He snickered a bit. "It's not even a life, really--a half-life. I'm sorry I brought you into it. I truly am."

She stared at him for a very long time as his blue eyes scanned the sea. Mariana touched the side of his face with one hand and turned it so that his eyes met hers. His eyes were now wide, not with fear, but with wonder.

In the blink of an eye, she jumped onto her tiptoes and gave him a quick kiss.

Baby stared at her as she sank back onto her feet, a deep blush on her cheeks and a smile playing at her lips. At first, he did not know what to do or say. Thousands of thoughts streamed through his mind's eye, and he couldn't pinpoint and analyze a single one.

So, obviously, he did what his instincts screamed at him to do.

He lifted her head back up and kissed her again, more deeply.

Mariana inwardly sighed, giving into his embrace. She wrapped her arms around his neck, sinking into the warmth of his body as it pressed against hers. Baby held her face with one hand and with the other drew little designs on her back, causing her spine to tingle. When they drew away he sighed.

"I think I must love you," he admitted in a whisper as he held her hands in one of his larger, rougher hands.

Her eyes went wide and she jerked up at the thought. Babylaughed to himself a little.

"You don't have to love me, Mariana," he told her as he brushed some of her long, unkempt hair out of her face. "But I just thought you might like to know. I love you, my beauty."

The Spanish woman paused for a moment, considering. She had never been in love before. She guessed Baby had--he was extremely attractive, and probably had a few more women than she could count. Still…there was a feeling in her heart…

Mariana smiled and nodded in agreement. She did love Baby Fischer. She loved him with all her heart and soul and mind. A grin broke out across Baby's face and he kissed her once more.

"Wonderful," he said, his voice a little more high-pitched than normal. Then, like a schoolboy, he hopped out of her room, a little skip in his step.

Mariana stood there smiling for what seemed like years. She had never made a man skip before. Not for her.

Surprisingly enough, Jack ventured out of his cabin the next day. He had grown bored and tired of arguing with his Shadow Man, and was long since over mourning for the death he had forgotten. He hated himself for forgetting the death of who must have been his closest comrade, for Jack could not recall ever being angry with Gibbs. But the Shadow Man had convinced him it was nothing, it was done, and to forget the whole thing.

And so, Jack forgot.

Besides, his thoughts were wiped away the day he hopped back on deck and saw her there.

At first, he could not believe it. His eyes grew wide--no, it couldn't be. She was gone. She couldn't be there. It was his mind, playing tricks on him--it had to be--

It's not me, lad, his Shadow Man said to him. I give you my word it's not.

Jack took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes with his fists like a little child. When he looked again, she was still there…still on his boat…

"A dream," he murmured. "It is but a dream…"

But even as he spoke, Jack could feel the wind on his face, taste the salt in the air. He could hear his heart thumping like a mad person's inside his chest, leaping up to his throat, trying desperately to escape the confines of his ribcage. Jack felt that sensation of wetness in his eyes that he had not felt in far too long a time.

"Oh, Anamaria…" he whispered.

It was her. It was really his Ana. She had her wide-rimmed hat on and was gazing to the sea. It was just as he remembered her. Jack managed to find a feeling in his feet and stumble towards her, a feeling building up inside of him he didn't recognize at first. It was a bubbling sensation in his chest, a ringing in his ears--and with wonder Jack realized it was happiness.

And a second later, it was gone.

She didn't turn around slowly--it was a quick jolt, and by the time she had Jack was inches away from her face. Her brown eyes searched his face in disgust and the bubbling feeling sank back to whatever vat it had come from.

"Anamaria?" Jack whispered, searching her face for some sign of familiarity. But in it he saw none. Just a cold gaze of hatred and loathing, a gaze Anamaria would never have shot at him.

Mariana, cloaked from head to toe in Anamaria's old clothing, slipped away from him, her lips pursed into a thin line. She didn't understand what he had called her and why. But something bothered her.

The look on his face…it had been one of pure anguish.

The girl brushed away the thought and stormed off to her lower cabin, her heart thundering in her chest. She should see Baby. He obviously knew the pirate captain better than any--he would tell her what it was.

Jack stood there for a while, staring at the space where his vision had been. "It…it wasn't her…" he mumbled.

'Course it wasn't, you blithering maniac, the Shadow Man howled with laughter. Anamaria is dead, Jack. She's never coming back.

Jack shook his head. "No…never…" he repeated vacantly.

But if you'd ask me, the Shadow Man continued, and Jack could almost see his smirk, that little Spanish wench had no right to lead you on.

"Absolutely not," Jack said, that dull rage once again building in his belly.

Don't you think it's time she was taught a lesson, Jack? the Shadow Man persuaded. After all, she's been on the Pearl for a month now, and not once have you heard that enticing song that's grown so famous among your men.

"Indeed," Jack muttered, clenching his fists at his sides and stalking across the shining wooden deck to the stairs that lead to the lower quarters. His Shadow Man cackled madly inside his mind, the noise echoing harshly off the caged memories it held.

That's a good lad, Jack, the Shadow Man cooed.

Jack muttered a few curses as he thumped down the stairs, his clunky old boots slamming into each step, making them scream their creaking scream of pain at the weight. Jack paid them no mind. He had to find her--she had disrespected him for the last time. The bloody peasant was a guest aboard his ship, and he would not be made a fool of by some wench.

"WENCH!" Jack heard himself roar, though he could not recall making the decision to shout. He turned about down the hallway and thundered to Anamaria's room. "You will not trick me," Jack whispered hotly as his hands grasped the glass doorknob.

He paused briefly for a moment as he heard something behind the door--the violin, playing a harsh, angry melody. The mere thought of it made his rage build and he threw open the door without a second's hesitation.

Mariana immediately stopped playing as he loomed into the doorway, his chest heaving as he panted with pure rage. Her eyes glazed over, a habit of hers Jack was becoming less and less fond of. Jack stared at her, his eyebrows knitted and his eyes literally blazing with a deep fury.

"Why is it," he hissed as he took three menacing steps forward, "that you play for an empty room, but you will not play for me?"

Mariana stood her ground as he took the fourth step. Her eyes held no fear, and it infuriated him further. Everyone was afraid of him. He was infamous. A ruthless killing pirate who had ravaged the seven seas for longer than most could remember. And yet this girl stood there, unblinking, as if she had never heard his name.

"What is so horrendous about me, eh?" he asked with a low growl. "Is it my face? Tell me it's not my face, wench." She just blinked at him and he swayed a little in his step. "Oh, that's right. You can't tell me, can you?"

Mariana's face boiled with a hatred and rage for only a moment before she regained her composure and gave him the iciest of glares. Jack reached into his belt and yanked out his pistol, but she did not even flinch as he aimed the thing at her chest. Jack cocked his head at her.

"You're not afraid of me, are you?" he said with a sort of sigh.

Mariana slowly nodded her head yes. Jack snorted.

"I suppose you care not for your own life then, eh?" he said, his tone just short of mocking.

Mariana gave him a cold hard stare and nodded again. Her hands were balled up into fists at her sides, so tightly curled that her nails dug deep into her palms, drawing blood.

Jack pondered for a moment. He had his gun pointed at her. Should he pull the trigger? Kill her? Be rid of her? Or…should he not? His mind darted back and worth, considering his options. As he did, his eyes traced down Mariana's body until it came to rest on the crimson violin that was grasped in one hand. He pointed his pistol at the instrument and nodded his head at her.

"You play for me," he growled, "or I'll blow apart your precious violin."

Mariana's glorious honey-brown eyes went wide with shock and, behind them, fear. Jack nearly smirked at her reaction as he felt a sensation of triumph build inside of him. She obviously cared more for the damned instrument than her own life. It was probably a family heirloom. Jack scoffed at such sentiments.

Mariana's glare could not have been more full of rage than it was when she brought the violin up beneath her chin, so reluctantly and slowly that Jack nearly got bored. Finally, her eyes blazing with fury and resentment, Mariana began to play.

Jack Sparrow was not a god, not even close to comparison. Although he often tried to assure himself that he was unreachable and untouchable, there were a select few people and things that could grab the remnants of what was once his heart and tie them painfully into crude knots. And as the girl who reminded him so much of his Ana played a song of anger and disgust, Jack realized something.

He hated music.

It is not an event that breaks the heart. It is the music that follows it. The song evokes emotions never before released. It opens the Pandora's box locked in every heart. Music crushed the heart, raped the soul, killed the mind.

And as Jack realized he hated music, he discovered something else.

He hated that girl.

Closing Notes: Now, I know you didn't see that coming. Hey, I've just realized I stole the Red Violin from a certain film...if you name it, you get a cookie...