Hey everyone,

Sorry I haven't updated for ages, with my puppy and school and friends my schedule's been chockablock (hee hee to all you Yankies, bet you don't know what that means!). Anywho, thank you all for reviewing. Answers:

Ogreatrandom: Thank you! And thanks for updating your story, I love it!

Pickled Princess: Lurve your pen name, by the way. Thanks for reviewing. And thanks about the realistic thing, I hope that's true. Hey, not a million! Maybe nine thousand…

Farewell-Goodnight: Love your suggestion, let me think about it.

Pirate Inxs: I always spit in peoples drinks. gets funny looks from random people doesn't everyone?

Sophie: Thanks soph. Would you, by ANY chance whatsoever, be sophie Duncan?

Anyway, thanks everybody for your wonderful reviews!

SSM ;)

oOo

I slipped restlessly into nightmare-filled sleep, trying to huddle as close as I could to myself so a) I would keep warm and b) I wouldn't lie in my regurgitated mess I had created. I had no way of telling the time. It had seemed like hours since the pirate had tossed me in here.

I heard footsteps banging down the stairs. Hoping it was someone coming to release me, I rose unsteadily to my feet and stumbled over to the bars of my cage. My shoulders slumped and I let myself fall back down on the ground when I saw it was only Sparrow. I watched as he strolled towards me in a lazy gait, having a slight frown on his face.

He squatted down so his face was level with mine. I watched as his eyes slowly traveled across the floor of my cell. He gave a small sigh and looked me up and down.

"You're sick." He said flatly, stroking the little braids at the end of his chin. I didn't say anything. I didn't trust myself. If he thought I was drunk, he'd leave me here…

"What's your name?" He asked, leaning closer to me.

"Ch-Charlotte Flightier." I whispered, visibly shaking.

His eyebrows flew up so high they where hidden from sight by his bandana. He didn't comment though. "Why are ya on me ship?" He only asked softly.

"I was drunk last night. I just got onto this ship, and I'm really sorry. Could you please let me go?"

He burst into a drunken laughter. "Let ya go? Love, we've been sailing for nine hours. Ya really think I'm about ta turn me ship around just ta let ya go?"

But before I could reply, he pulled out a ring with a singular key swinging to and fro on it. He opened the cell door swiftly and grasped my upper arm, pulling me to my feet.

"On th' other though, I suppose you can come up and at least eat somthin'. Settle your stomach."

I allowed him to tug me up the tiny staircase. I shielded my eyes as unexpected sunlight filtered the deck. Men rushed over the wooden floors, talking and yelling to each other. I felt overwhelmed.

The other man in the bar the night before hurried up to us. "What's the plan, Cap'n?" He asked, jerking his head slightly in my direction.

Sparrow smirked. "Guess she'll make a nice little plaything for the crew…"

My legs began to shake. I took a step backwards, and almost fell over. I quickly looked down to see a sword beneath my feet.

I did the only thing I could think of. I picked it up and pressed it to Sparrow's back.

He turned quickly. "Is this wise, love?" He drawled, pulling out his own sword.

I knew it wasn't, but I only jabbed at him again. He quickly blocked me, and drew his sword swiftly to my legs, missing them by a hair. I pulled up my own to hit him in the head, but he blocked me again.

"You know the basics." He commented as we circled each other, waiting for the other to take the move.

"The local boys in my neighborhood used to teach me."

"Ahh. Were you any good then?"

I scowled and took a step forward to plunge my weapon into his chest. With a single swish of his arm, he sent my sword flying and held the tip of the blade at my throat. "Do ya yield, sweetheart?" He whispered.

It was then I realised that every man on the ship had crowded around us. They began to jeer, slowly reaching out to touch me.

"Now, now boys, not yet." Sparrow smirked. "I asked ya, do ya yield?" He suddenly turned the blade and moved closer, so the sword pierced my dress and the wood wall behind me combined. I was trapped. He let go of the handle, laughing along with his crew.

I felt my face heat up. I tugged at tugged at my sleeve, but it was made out of such strong fabric it would not tear. I looked Sparrow straight in the eye. "I yield, all right? I yield."

He placed a hand across my chest, and with the other hand he slowly pulled the sword out of the wood, then out of my sleeve. As I went to walk off though, he grasped my shoulders and roughly steered me to a cabin. He pushed me to the wall while he unlocked the door, then dragged me in. He pushed me to a bed, then turned and went to a chest of drawers.

I flopped on the bed, grateful for the comforting blankets. My back felt like it had broken from sleeping on the floor.

Sparrow strode over and held a piece of paper less then an inch from my face. "Ya know who this is, Miss Flightier?" He asked.

I sat up and studied the paper. It was actually a photograph. It showed a man with one wooden leg, and who was grinning at the camera. I looked closely at his face, and my stomach flipped.

"Well?" He asked impatiently.

I looked up coldly. "I have no idea, Captain. No idea what so ever."

To my dismay his face cracked into a grin. "Now Miss Flightier, I don't think you are being completely honest with Jack. Tell me the truth."

"No."

I didn't even see him do it. But the next second I was pinned down, eagle-spread, on the bed, with Sparrow lying heavily on top of me. "Get off of me!" I screamed, writhing beneath his iron-like grip.

"He's ya Grandfather, isn't he darlin'?" Sparrow slurred. I looked up at him in amazement, speechless.

"I'll take the stunned silence as a yes." Sparrow whispered, laughing. "Now, you're going to tell me all ya know about ya Grandfather. Right here, right now."

Memories and flashbacks filled my mind. I remembered how he would come back with expensive gifts, kisses and hugs for my sisters and I. I recalled how he taught me how to fight. I evoked how he would always cause my Father to get so annoyed he would throw him out of the house, but my sisters would sneek him back in. I remembered the stories he told me about being a pirate, and how he said I was the only person that could keep his secrets. I recalled his soft voice telling me how to get to treasures, and where he would hide his maps.

I looked straight into Sparrow's eyes. "I don't remember my Grandfather."