Daughter of a Pirate

Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Oops, I forgot to put this in the last chapter. But then again, I do own PotC. Okay, I just own the DVD. Now leave me alone. I'm a poor college student with no money, no dowry, no family background. And no ownership of PotC, either.

A/N (1/14/06): I had, in the past, a story by this title, which was supposed to be a romance between Samantha Williams and Captain Jack Sparrow, but failed. I was inordinately proud of this, my failed CJS romance, so it took me a very long time to realize that it was trash. I therefore removed it and proceeded to write a new story. That took place yesterday. About all I kept was the opening and the characters. Well, the plot will remain the same, as well. So I haven't done as total a revamp of this as I did of "If I Were a Herald," where I only kept the two main characters and the place setting (it wound up being set in a different time than I'd had originally). Since I am still working on "If I Were a Herald," and that is a prior project, this story, of necessity, will take second place.

A/N (1/30/06): I have now completed "If I Were a Herald," which means I can devote my time to my classes. Okay, and this story, as well. But there's a reason I haven't updated: I only got two reviews. Come on, people. It's not that bad a story. Or is it just that I have a terrible summary?

The Silver Pirate: I thank thee for thy review. (Ack, I'm thinking in Elizabethan…blame Shakespeare's The Tempest; I'm boatswain.) My policy is that I do not update unless I have received three reviews…although I don't always hold to that, especially if I get one very long review. What about the last bit confused you? I'd like to know. When I wrote the chapter, it was late at night and I was perhaps a bit tipsy, after attending a pirate meeting, so I was not thinking as well as I might.

MeraSparrow: I also thank thee for thy review. Since this is my next great project after (during) "If I Were a Herald," I shall finish it (this time around).

Tobias looked from Sparrow to Samantha, faced with a dilemma. Bad enough that he'd come here to free Sam, but he was willing to die for her. If only she would see it. But Jack Sparrow was a rogue. He captained the only real pirate ship left in the Caribbean, save for the Red Sun. That one was becoming quite as much trouble as the Black Pearl had been, in years past.

If he released Sparrow, no doubt the pirate would return to Tortuga and gather himself a crew, intent upon regaining the Pearl. Everyone knew the tale of how he'd spent ten years searching for his lost ship, then shot the man who stole her from him. A little thing like the Navy wouldn't stop him from trying to get her back a second time.

If he left the pirate here, Sparrow could tell Commodore Lynn just who released Sam. That would be the end of Tobias's career in the Navy—and likely the end of his life.

Sam leaned against the bars of her cell, acting for all the world like she had complete control over this situation. "So. Captain Jack Sparrow, is it?"

Jack started. There was that voice again. It sounded so like his old friend Samuel, but it was younger. "Aye. An' who are you?"

"Call me Sam."

Whoa. Talk about ghosts. What were the odds of finding someone with that voice, who had the same name as his departed friend? Not bloody likely. This bore investigating. "Sam Williams?"

"Aye. Sam Williams." His fellow prisoner didn't seem too awfully surprised when Jack asked that question. "Or, more properly, Samantha."

Oh, good. He wasn't going crazy. This girl was just another one like Anamaria, who dressed like a man to get by in a world full of men.

"Tobias," the girl continued, addressing the overdressed Navy fop, "if yer really serious about gettin' me out o' 'ere, that bag o'er on the counter'd be 'elpful."

Jack had noticed the bag on the way in. Underneath the dust, it appeared to contain traditional thieving tools, including a set of lockpicks.

Another prickle traveled up his spine as he realized what she'd called the officer. Tobias. But—no. That would be too much of a coincidence.

"I'll come back in an hour—" young Tobias began, handing the thief her tools, but Sam cut him off.

"Don' bother. We'll be long gone by then."

"Oh, good," Jack said, aloud this time. "But who says he won't tell?" He gestured broadly at Tobias.

"'E's a friend," Samantha replied firmly. "Now leave, please." That last was directed at Tobias, who nodded ruefully and removed himself.

"You think you can get us out of here?" Jack asked curiously. He'd tried picking locks himself a couple times. It was possible, but difficult, and it didn't help that the lock was on the other side of the door. Cage, more like.

"I know I can get us out," the arrogant girl replied. Her father had been like that, too, but less so. Especially after the disaster with the mutiny. But even being undead hadn't dampened his spirits. It was the guilt. Poor man. An' now 'e's dead, victim o' mutiny 'imself. Ironic, innit?

Samantha removed a set of long, thin tools from the bag. That would be the lockpicks. Jack had never owned a set, himself; never saw the need. A gun was much more useful in opening locked doors.

It took her about five minutes of patient work to open the door to her cell. After that, it took two more minutes to open his. Jack stretched and grinned. "Ah, freedom."

"We're not free yet," Sam warned. She grabbed the rest of her effects from the rack and strapped them on. No sword, but several knives and even a pair of pistols. Jack didn't even want to ask whether she'd ever used them. There was a cold, dead look to her eyes as she worked that said she had. He shuddered. Killing people was bad business. It left its mark on the soul. He would know. Barbossa had betrayed him, yet it had hurt to kill the man.

"Who did you kill?" he asked, just trying to make conversation.

"Quiet," Sam hissed. She motioned for him to follow, then slunk toward the exit with catlike grace. Pretty young thing. Reminded him of Anamaria, just younger. She'd be, what, twenty-five? Sounded about right. Once it was apparent that no one was in earshot, she replied to his question. "No one. But I'm going to kill Eldar when I get my hands on him."

Ah. That explained it. Lust for revenge left a person as dead as actual killing. "Take my advice, an' don't. It ain't worth it."

"Aye, it is." There was such conviction in her voice that he knew all the arguments in the world would not sway her. "If 'e lives, 'e'll go on killin' people. 'E 'as to be eliminated."

Jack looked at her again. There was a fire in her eyes now. And—were those tears? Oh, God, no, not tears. She couldn't be about to cry. "Damn," he muttered as the tiny drops gathered at the corners of her eyes. He hated it when women cried.

Just when he was getting desperate, that same pretty-boy Captain from before appeared out of nowhere. "Sam? Sam, are you alright? Did he hurt you?" The glare he directed at Jack could have sliced through a stone wall. Tobias's arm went around the thief, supporting her, offering comfort. Jack had to give him points for guts, if nothing else.

"I didn't do anything," Jack declared.

"You made her cry." The accusation was cold and harsh.

Sam hiccupped a laugh. "'Sokay, Tobe. 'Twasn't 'im. I was thinkin' abou' me da'." She wiped her eyes and pulled away. Jack saw the look Tobias aimed at her, like he wanted to pull her back into his arms and kiss her until she moaned. He wondered if Sam saw it, too. "Why're ye here?"

"Wherever you're going, I'm coming with you. Especially if Sparrow goes as well."

"Absolutely not." Jack was not going to have this stuck-up Navy snob watching his every move—especially when the boy was as likely to turn him in as look at him.

"Well, then, I guess you won't be traveling with Sam."

That response gave Jack pause. He'd met bossy officers in his day, but this seemed more than that. Tobias exuded a quiet confidence that he'd not noticed at their last meeting—if Tobias was, in fact, who he suspected. Looked the same—for the most part. There were differences. He'd filled out. Now he was the kind to catch the eye of any girl. Jack wondered idly if Samantha Williams was immune. He guessed not. Come to think of it, watching the two of them could be very interesting…

Okay, I really don't know where I'm going with this. Well, I do, but I don't. This is a total rewrite, except for a couple exchanges I'm going to keep. Yeah. So, what did you think?