A/N: After the kind of enthusiastic response from everyone, I thought, I know, I'll write the next chapter, and who knows? I might even get round to putting it up. Well, if you're reading it, it's quite obvious you have… Oh shut up brain… Ooh! This is for the ever lovely, and probably quite fragrant Anamaria's Lil Sidekick. Loving your work babe!

Anamaria lay on her back and stared up at the pool of light from the porthole. She cursed, but methodically. She started with the fact she was lying on a small but annoying stone, and worked up to the reason she was lying on the stone was because of Jack Sparrow. She spent a lot of time cursing Sparrow. She spent even more time thinking of new things to call him. She was mulling over the properties of "kleptomaniac cytoplasm" when there was a noise from outside. She stood up and went to the bars. She hollered till Rob, the new lad came down. He had been a farm boy on a merchant ship that they had run into, and had decided piracy had its merits. That sort of decision is easy when you're staring into a loaded gun.

"What's happening Rob?"

"It's a fight miss! It was better guarded than the Cap'n thought. We need every man!"

"What, so that kleptomaniac cytoplasm," Yes, that had a good ring to it, "wants me to fight for him?"

"Please miss, it's bad!" she looked at the white face of the boy in front. He had blood on his jacket, and on his face. She rubbed her nose, and then reached into her pocket and pulled out a rag that once upon a time, had been a silk handkerchief.

"Spit," the boy obeyed and she rubbed the blood off his face.

"Th-thank you miss,"

"You gonna unlock the door?" she tucked the handkerchief away and the boy unlocked the door. She picked up her sword, left on the rough bench the guard's sometimes used. Then she followed Rob up the stairs.

Jack dodged a flailing fist to see Anamaria come up and blink in the light. She caught his eye, and raised an eyebrow. Then she raised her sword and brought the butt of it down hard on someone's head. Jack was suddenly aware of a cannon ball whistling past his ear. He yelled something incomprehensible, and leapt back in.

The fight had raged for a good ten minutes. The pirates were outnumbered, but Will and Jack had spent sometime telling the pirates how to make someone go down and stay down on the beach the last time they had been in Port Royal. This meant they spent less time on each man, meaning they could get about faster. It worked. They were slowly wearing them back.

"Boarding party! Now!" Jack roared. He had lost his hat. That was annoying. But the boarding party were already swinging over. He laughed and hit a man on the nose. Then he saw her.

A Navy boy had cornered Anamaria, by some strange twist of fate. The man was waving the sword like he'd been born with it- a painful experience for any mother made worse. He moved like a cat. He was bad news. Anamaria was only able to just stop his blows, as she was forced closer and closer to the side. He tried to reach her, but a boy no older than fifteen was in the way. He punched him, and the boy reeled. His gun went off and Jack felt something hit bone. He clutched on arm and ran forwards just in time to see the man sink his sword into Anamaria's chest. He groaned as he saw it come out the other side. He pulled out the sword and approached Jack. He was the first mate. Jack grabbed him. Over the mates shoulder he could see Anamaria collapse on the deck, her mouth a surprised o.

"You will surrender," the man was taller than he was, but Jack tugged him until he had to move to look him in the eye, or get throttled. Dimly, he knew pain was happening, but it was far away, distanced by the red mist of rage dimming his eye. "Surrender, or I promise you will die,"

"I'll surrender! God, I didn't want this! It wasn't-," the boy sobbed. Jack dropped him. Only a baby, barely out of nappies. The mate went away, and there was a quietening of battle, until all that could be heard was the flapping of the ropes, and bodies being dragged.

((()))((()))((()))Anamaria's PoV((()))((()))((()))

She felt the blade slide into her shoulder and gasped as it scraped bone. The sailor with the sword pulled it out, horrified as her shirt tore.

"Oh god. Oh god…" he said, "I'm so sorry miss. I-I didn't know,"

Anamaria tried to make a tart reply, but she was finding it hard to breathe. She felt like her veins were full of freezing hot lead. The sailor had tears running down his face.

"I didn't know you was a woman miss. I didn't want to kill!" Anamaria sunk down as he stumbled off. Someone grabbed him. Someone with a familiar red bandana. And a red stain on his shirt that turned to grey as she pitched forward. The deck came up to meet her, and she fell through the deck into a sucking warm darkness.

((()))((()))((()))Jack's PoV((()))((()))((()))

Jack found Anamaria lying where she had fallen. Her shirt was torn and soaked to her. she muttered as he lifted her head.

"Gibbs! Gibbs you drunken sot! Get here. We've got a live one!" he tried to keep the relief out of his face. Gibbs pulled over two other men who picked up Anamaria and carried her away.

They buried the dead that night, sending them off with a cannonball at their feet and gold coins on their eyes, for any magistrates they would have to bribe, or innkeepers to pay, or captain's to be paid by. Jack attended, a bandage round his arm. The bullet had come out easily enough. Now he had to avoid the infection. Then he went to the sick bay, where there was Rob, who had lost an arm in the battle, and Anamaria. She muttered feverishly. The doctor's boy checked in, and then went to toast his dead mates. Jack fetched a bowl of water and mopped Anamaria's head.

"Come on girl. Don't you give up now."

He sat with her all that night, never moving. He should have gone out to toast the dead, to send them down to Davy Jones and say the bit of Bible that he knew to make it official. He should have entered it all in the log. But instead he sat by a soul half submerged in death, waiting out the lonely night.

A/N: And that's it for now. I promise there will be more. Love you all. (Slade's 'So Here It Is Merry Christmas starts) It's CHRIIIIIIIIIISTMASSSSS! 'Ave a good 'un. See yas.