Disclaimer: I don't have permission to be writing this.

AN (4/26): I'm going absolutely insane, actually. I keep staying up really late so I can finish my homework that I procrastinate later and later each evening. It's a horrible habit, especially since the AP tests are next week. But, my calculus teacher thinks I'll pass. Maybe I'll just have to prove him wrong to spite 'im.
(5/6): I'm not dead, I swear! I've only got two more AP tests to go! Woo!

Chapter Four: Damsel and Dames

As Jack swaggered his way towards the dingy little tavern he was staying at (until he found some money magically on the street) he chanced to stare out at the ocean. That wasn't an unusual occurrence for anyone, frankly, because the ocean is just that enthralling. He had a curious relationship with the sea. They seemed to be like quarrelsome lovers at the moment and the sea was the "repentant" woman begging for his forgiveness. He just had to get this opera nonsense out of his system tonight, and he'd go to Tortuga and pick up a crew. That would work.

As he was staring at the sea, however, he happened to notice that someone was screaming. Based on the high frequency, it was a woman. Jack's natural instincts to save the damsel in distress kicked in, and before he knew it, he was swimming towards the sound of the screaming. In the fading sunlight, he just barely caught sight of a woman in a green dress floundering above the waves. She was probably the one who had been screaming. It seemed as though the sea had decided to claim her. Not on Jack's watch. When beautiful things were destroyed senselessly, it always seemed to prick Jack's heart. Which is probably a good thing, isn't it? Or he would abuse the women he frequented so often and would be everything his father had wanted him to be and more.

The water was cool and quite salty as it lapped around his body, the waves trying with all their might to force him back against the shoreline. Beads of sweat dripped from his hairline as he madly dashed towards the screaming woman. He was her only hope, it seemed, because everyone else who'd been walking along the beach hadn't heeded the siren's high pitched cry. Jack didn't really think he'd end up being dashed against the rocks because of his inclination to save this woman. No…he wasn't really giving any thought whatsoever to what he was doing. All he knew was that someone needed his help and that someone could make it very worth his while, depending on her beauty or bank account, figuratively speaking.

He reached the damsel in what could be considered a good time. She hadn't succumbed to the enticing waves and hadn't given up trying to keep her head above water, though she had given up trying to scream and was in the process of giving up her will to survive. She hadn't noticed him, since she was turned the wrong direction, trying to find the island again. In fact, when he touched her shoulder, she literally jumped out of the water a few inches while yelping as she turned to look at him.

"D' you need help?" Jack asked with just a hint of amusement visible in his dark eyes. No sense in mocking someone so close to dying, right? He probably would've overreacted in the same position she was in.

She slowly nodded, a wondrously hopeful smile dancing across her face. It was almost like a little child, being trapped in a well for several days, seeing a rope finally come down to rescue them from the terror that would shortly be repressed and forgotten. "Yes."

"Always a pleasure t' serve," Jack replied, smiling back as he gently took her hand. "Can ye swim a' all?" Her long auburn hair was swaying just beneath the waves, the tendrils kissing all of the unseen plankton preparing for another day of catching sunlight and being eaten by fish. The moonlight cascaded down on her in a most enticing manner, illuminating all of her best qualities in an eerie silver sheen. She seemed like a goddess. A goddess that had somehow been stripped of immortality that had to be protected at all costs.

"I can," she affirmed. "But I was caught unawares, by that wave. And I don't know the way back to land." She seemed lost suddenly, and Jack felt as though it was his fault she was so alone. It was his fault he hadn't been paying more attention and it was his fault she was out in the middle of apparently no where. Fortunately, for her, Jack knew very well what direction to head, because of the stars, and was quite a strong swimmer.

"Can you beat the surf?" Jack pressed, trying to act as though her physical appearance had no effect on him whatsoever. He had to concentrate here. Couldn't let himself be distracted by her enchanting blue eyes and fluttering lashes. Whether they were fluttering because she was flirting or because she was cold or just because she was terrified was really up in the air.

"With your help, probably," she rejoined, trying to sound confident. Jack really thought she resembled a flower tossed into the sea with no hope of escaping the rocks next to the shore. Of course, she had hope. He was her hope.

"Right." Jack smiled and started swimming towards the surf. Now, one generally would assume getting to shore would be dreadfully easy, right, since the ocean is constantly driving everything towards the shore. But when you're caught by a current headed another direction and the tide is changing, it really is quite difficult to break past the part where swells start morphing into waves. Perhaps if a large wave came along and swept both the damsel and Jack towards the shore, they'd be able to get there without any effort whatsoever. That seemed quite unlikely. It appeared they would have to swim.

Of course, that was no problem for Jack, was it? He was being moved towards the shore by both his adrenaline and his pride. He didn't want to appear to be a fool in front of this attractive and terrified woman. He had to play the part of the over-confident man, to compensate for her fear. It was working quite well, fortunately, as they neared the shoreline.

That was when the worst happened, as often happens when everything seems to be going all right. Looming several feet away, over the next swell, was a monster. Now, it wasn't a monster in the truest sense of the word. On the contrary, it was merely a community of animals living together and feeding, as everything in the world has the right of doing. Several large gas-filled floating violet balls indicated what this particularly dangerous creature was. Underneath the peacefully floating and deceptive sacks holding mostly nitrogen, however, lurked tentacles full of poison to capture fish feeding near the surface. Jack and the woman were headed straight towards a Portuguese Man-of-War, one of the scourges of swimmers in such exotic waters all over the world.

As Jack was being forced to the center of the island with only fifteen palm trees and an unnatural feeling of dread, he couldn't help but wonder exactly what Pâquerette was up to. Maybe she was going to sacrifice him to the goddess of revenge. Jack wasn't sure if there was a goddess of revenge, but he imagined the Greeks and Romans had an obscure one, at least, that could be called the goddess of revenge. Maybe there was something in Hindu mythology that could be considered the goddess of revenge. Maybe Pâquerette just wanted to kill him on an odd island with the trees arranged in such an odd manner. Maybe he was putting more thought into it than he needed to.

"Come on Sparrow," Pâquerette barked, tugging on the rope they'd tied to his hands to force him to the center of the island. "We don't have all day." The crew members with her snickered softly. Obviously Jack was missing out on some sort of inside joke.

"Never assumed we did," Jack retorted sarcastically as he glanced at the trees. Now that he was closer to them, it seemed they were arranged in groups of three with a large grassy field in the center. If he didn't know any better, he'd say that the field was in the shape of a pentagon. But that couldn't happen in nature, right? Unless someone had come along years ago and had planted the trees in five groups of three like that, it was just a coincidence. He was imagining things. Had to be. "Things of this nature often run on a schedule."

"Very true, my little Moineau." Pâquerette smiled slightly as she heard Jack gasp softly and then watched him try to mask his evident surprise. Men were so predictable. She'd called him the French word for Sparrow, and here he was surprised about it. Of course, it didn't hit her that perhaps he had some other connotation with the word. Which he did. But that wasn't something Jack often liked thinking about.

The rest of the journey to the absolute center of the field was in relative silence. Jack stood next to Pâquerette, in chains. The rest of her crew was gone, behind some of the trees. Jack was utterly confused. None of this was making any sense. Why was it just himself and Pâquerette standing there? Did she plan on offering him as some sort of sacrifice?

Fortunately, it seemed as though Pâquerette was willing to talk, for she turned to face Jack with a mixture of absolute hatred and something akin to love lighting her slightly beleaguered face. "Jack."

A rather uncomfortable pause started. "Yes?" Jack finally asked, sick of the silence.

"Why?" Pâquerette seemed to be searching for some reason not to do what she was about to do, whatever that was. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Pâquerette had developed some feelings for him, right? Either that, or she was the world's best actress.

"Why what?" Jack asked cautiously. He didn't want to make her mad because she probably would kill him.

"Why am I so attracted to you?" Pâquerette asked, addressing more herself than him. "You killed my only brother. You forced my father to kill himself…and yet…" She kissed him violently and passionately. "I can't stop."

Jack wisely refrained from answering that. If he did, she'd probably kill him for his egocentric ways. Jack was very proud of how great a lover he was, actually. But Pâquerette did have a very odd way of showing attraction, didn't she?

"Can't stop." She sighed heavily and kissed him again, taking a few steps back. "I suppose it won't matter for long, will it? You will be mine and I will get my revenge."

Jack was under the impression that Pâquerette hadn't meant to say that, and was on the verge of asking her exactly what she meant, since she was being so open at the moment with him, but a great distraction came from the trees. "So tha's why there were clothes on deck," Jack commented softly to himself. If he'd been in any other situation, what he was seeing would be something to be quite excited over, since he thought he was the only man on the island. How often do you see twenty or so women wearing nothing but what they were born with? Sure, some of them were wearing robes, standing next to the groves of trees…but there was enough to look at with them being clothed to keep any man occupied for quite some time.

Jack was so enthralled by the mass of nude women he didn't notice someone approaching, from the point of the rough pentagon. The new individual was wearing a robe as well, like Diane (who Jack had just happened to notice, standing in the left corner relative to the direction he was facing at the moment) and some of the other women who wouldn't look so pleasing without clothes. It was deathly silent. All of the chatter of the women died as they reverently kneeled on the grass and bowed, adopting a position of complete submission. Jack, for a moment, thought they were bowing to him until Pâquerette forced him to turn around and to get down on one knee. He saw the hooded man and instantly felt cold dread. This was a weird feeling for Jack; so it made him quite uncomfortable. Jack could tell the figure was a man, just based on the way he was walking.

"Good job, Pâquerette," a cold voice said. It was apparently coming from the robed man. "You've finally brought me Captain Jack Sparrow." He probably smiled at Pâquerette before turning his attention back to Jack. Even though there were numerous beautiful nude women behind him, Jack found he couldn't turn away from the masked figure. He could barely see Pâquerette out of the corner of his eye. She'd turned into that pleasing, smiling, and subservient woman she could be occasionally. Obviously she liked the praise.

"Not Captain anymore, if ye please," Jack corrected softly, tilting his head slightly as he tried imagining who was behind the robe, so to speak. "Jus' Jack Sparrow."

"Well, just Jack Sparrow," the masked man said indifferently, "you've been selected to be a part of a grand experiment. I've wanted to meet you for so long because I believe you're the only one who can handle my grand designs."

Well, wasn't that nice? Jack didn't know what to make of it, but he had a gut instinct that it wouldn't be anything good. Generally people wearing robes in front of lots of women that weren't wearing anything talking about grand designs were up to no good. "I'm positively thrilled," Jack remarked sarcastically.

Pâquerette laughed softly, putting her arm possessively around his. "We're ready," she announced firmly, glancing towards the robed man. "Do the ceremony."

"Ceremony?" Jack's question went unanswered as the robed man slowly nodded and bowed. The women behind him cheered raggedly as the robed man pulled out a small book.

"Hush," Pâquerette said soothingly, brushing a few particles of imaginary dirt off his shoulder. "It will all be over shortly."

"What are you doing?" Jack asked plaintively as he was forced down onto his knees as the man at the point of the now very apparent pentagon turned to face them again. His question went unaddressed this time as the man started talking. Pâquerette was kneeling next to him, looking positively excited for what was about to happen.

"Today we are gathered on this fine island to force two people together," the man started, his voice carrying surprisingly easy, though he was rather far away from Jack and Pâquerette in the middle of the pentagon. That didn't sound very good and Jack was starting to get very worried now, as if the previous signs hadn't been enough to worry him. This was just surreal. "If there are any objections, they'd best be forgotten because this isn't a "natural" wedding. No. This is something to give power to the woman, as the woman is often neglected and mistreated by her husband. It is time that changes. What better man to do this to than Jack Sparrow? He's been a womanizer since his mother died and he needs to learn some control. Which is why we will control him." The man laughed softly.

It was a very eerie laugh that made Jack feel even worse. He was going to be controlled by a woman? And he was going to get married? Something in this picture was completely wrong. "Wait jus' a minute," Jack said, standing up and glaring at the robed man. "You can't do this."

"I can't?" The man laughed again. This time Pâquerette's crew joined in. Jack felt like the world was spinning too fast. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

"Well…" Jack gasped as the man pointed towards him and a sharp jolt of pain hit his chest, forcing him back to his knees. "No." It was a weak sort of rebellious stance, actually, and it was probably more impulse than bravery. Jack had always been one to say no under torture, after all.

"I believe I can," the man replied, pointing at Jack with both hands. Jack started convulsing. The chains seemed to be digging into his chest and hands. It was the most pain he'd ever been in. And yet, he still shook his head. The man didn't seem to care this time and merely moved on to complete the ceremony.

Pâquerette was watching this all with a mixture of worry, excitement, revenge and greed on her face as she calmly contemplated what was going on. She would soon exact her revenge and would get the body she continually lusted over.

CrazyPirateGirl: Senioritis is the bane of my existence. I don't want to do anything anymore. But I did finally decide what was up with Pâquerette today during Calculus, since we had free time. Great fun. Jack being random is fun too. And thanks for the review!
Eccentric Banshee: I would probably scratch too. And, Pâquerette hasn't spit so far. But don't worry, she will. This whole plot probably doesn't make any sense. But it's the best I can come up with. So there. And I did hear Dustin Hoffman say that about Johnny. After I came up with the whole nearly invincible thing. Dunno where that came from, either. Anyway, thanks for the review! I appreciate reading yours. Great fun to read and always informative. And I'm now reminding you to send me the best picture of Johnny. Because I like good pictures of Johnny. And good luck on your writing ventures. I need to review your last update, don't I?
Mystic Moon Maiden: I've read that one too, where Jack was a cartographer. A good take on his past, I think. I tend to think he was more aristocratic than that, though, because he knows such big words and probably couldn't have taught them to himself. But what do I know? Nothing. Sorry if this seems a bit odd…I'm very tired. Like, uberly tired. And I promise we will soon learn about Gibbs and Anamaria. Soon, my padawan. Soon. Thanks for the review!
Raisin: Awesome possum is freakin' amazing, man. I'll have to say that. I like saying kicks and giggles, too. Fun. You should try it. And snazzy. Good word, that. And he can't test being nearly invincible, but he will test it. Out of desperation. You'll see. It'll be a great scene to write. But its not for a while yet. And Pâquerette isn't ever going to point out the obvious. Because she's not that way. But no worries…hopefully my insane plot twist will make some sense. Feel free to give me criticism on the error of my logic. Because I'm sure I'm going to have a lot of plot holes…at least until the one chapter that I can't tell you about. As for the cult rituals…well, what do you think a crew of naked women are up to with a creepy guy we've seen before? No good. Thanks for the review! I lurved it! Your reply would be longer, but I'm at school and have to hurry.
Daisy: I've tried tellin' 'er, luv, really, I 'ave. But she likes t' be lazy. Been doing a lot of sleeping and nothin', t' tell the truth, ever since this AP testing started. She's also been on sugar highs a lo'. Very scary, ye see, when she's high on sugar.
Of course I like readin' yer fluff, luv. Valuable fluff it is. Intriguin', too. Erica uses a lo' of your comments, in ways I don' think you realize. An' a lot of your characters. Just look who shows up in the nex' chapter…
Erica isn' sayin' yer evil… Pâquerette is. The French you. I think a lo' of French are evil. Comes wiv the territory. Thank ye for leavin' a review again. I know Erica appreciated it.
Jack: She's hiding a lot. But no worries! Thanks for the review. Since you were number one, you get this crappy computer in the writing lab! Yay!