Thanks for the reviews, I really appreciate them.

I apologise for Jack's language at the moment, I haven't quite settled into what I want him to talk like yet.

And once again, I do not own any characters from Pirates of the Caribbean, I just like writing about them. If any original characters turn up, I will own them.

Chapter two: Aboard the Black Pearl

"Sparrow?" James said incredulously. The very fact that it was this man in particular set James off laughing. Sparrow rose from his chair and walked around the table to the bed James now occupied.

"Captain Sparrow. If ye're goin' to address me as that I'll thank ye te use me title. Ye all right mate? Maybe ye still delirious from that fever. I don't recall ye thinkin' me presence was so funny last time we were in acquaintance."

"No." James shook his head, which only served to remind him of the beating he'd taken. The last time we were in acquaintance. He knew for certain that just over a year ago he would have outright laughed at anyone who suggested to him that he'd end up fighting cursed pirates, at an island that no-one living could find. Except Sparrow, of course.

"No," James repeated, "I just find it ironic that you, of all people, are helping me." James stopped laughing then, when he remembered something else Sparrow had said.

"Fever? How long was I..." he trailed off.

"Does a man have to justify everythin' te ye? I, if ye haven't noticed, am not like most pirates. Ye may not believe me, but I don't find it the least bit amusin' te see a man in the state ye were. Ye've no need te worry 'bout the rest o me crew neither – none of 'em know who ye are, 'cept Gibbs, and I've told him te keep his mouth shut." Sparrow glanced out the huge stern windows before continuing.

"Ye've been out o it fer a couple o days. Had Ana-Maria in 'ere at one point since she knows a bit about nursin'. She weren't pleased 'bout it mind," he told James with a grin, "She was of the opinion at the time I was tryin' te shove her back in that rut that she sees as bein' a woman." Sparrow rubbed his cheek absentmindedly at this.

"We're not far off the coast o Cuba at the moment. Sailed away from Jamaica night we found ye." Again Sparrow glanced out of the windows, this time frowning at whatever he saw.

"I'll come back and speak te ye later if ye need me te. Right now it looks like the wind's pickin' up and I need te see what Ana's doin with me ship." With that, Sparrow strode out of the cabin and shut the door with a snap. Out at sea, it seemed, Sparrow's odd walk wasn't even noticeable.

James resisted the urge to fall straight back to sleep then, and waited a few minutes to be sure he was really alone. Then, despite the weakness he felt in his limbs, he lifted up his right arm to where he could see it before beginning to unwind the bandage. He had to see, had to know what the damage was. Done, he let the discarded bandage fall to the sheets and stared at the burnt skin on his arm. The skin that would now stay that way for the rest of his life, proclaiming for all to see, the letter 'P'.

Pirate.

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James woke to the gentle rocking of a ship at anchor. He wondered briefly where Sparrow had harboured the Black Pearl before checking the bandage at his wrist; he'd re-tied it yesterday and then immediately fell into a deep sleep. He guessed he'd slept right through the rest of the day and through the night, and feeling a lot better for it, sat up to see the sunlight streaming through the cabin windows.

The door to the cabin swung open and a slim figure entered carrying a bowl and a mug. As the figure approached, he made it out to be a woman. So this was Ana-Maria. How ironic - a month ago he would have been shocked to see a woman dressed as Ana-Maria was and in such a profession as this. Now, it seemed, there were few things that fazed him.

Ana-Maria set the bowl and mug down on the table and turned to face him.

"Don't expect this treatment every morning just because I helped nurse ye," she told him rather fiercely. "Jack felt ye should have somethin' te eat brought te ye since ye don't know ye way around the Pearl. There's some clean clothes over here," she indicated a pile on a chair next to the table, "since I didn't think ye'd want te stay in the ones ye arrived in. Don't worry," she added with a hint of a smile, "I'm not goin' te watch ye dress. Those bandages could come off today though." She began to leave.

"What about the stitches?" he asked her. She looked back, then strode over to the bed to get a closer look at his face.

"Another couple o days fer those," she told him. "I want te make sure the wound's goin' te stay closed 'fore I take those out." She turned and left, shutting the door with a snap.

James swung his legs over the edge of the bed and removed all the bandages except the one tied around his wrist. He wasn't ready to show that one off yet. He pushed himself off the bed and made his way over to the table in a way that he suspected, to any observers, would look like a very poor impression of Sparrow. He found the pants in the pile and pulled them on before slipping on his boots and sitting gingerly down in the chair and inspecting what Ana-Maria had brought.

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Norrington had finished eating and had put the clean shirt on by the time Jack entered the cabin.

"Ah. Ana-Maria told me ye were up but I didn't quite believe her after ye lethargic performance o the last few days. I see ye ate the food then," he said to Norrington in his half mocking tone. Norrington started to glare at him before seeming to give up.

"Very funny. I'll admit I was expecting the worst of your food Captain, but it wasn't too bad." Norrington looked at Jack as if to gauge his reaction to this comment.

"Call me Jack mate. Everyone else does. Ye don't have te praise the food either, I'm well aware it's not the best in the world. Me ship mite be, but the food aint," Jack told Norrington.

"Well then. I suppose you can call me Adam. Well, my name's Adam Locke," was the response.

"Oh, so that's what ye're goin' by now, is it, Adam?" Jack goaded.

"It is for my business out here, and you'll keep quiet if you really want to know the reason." Norrington kept himself from rising to Jack's bait. Pity really, Jack thought.

"So there's a deeper meaning behind it all then? Not just another man wanting te be a pirate? Must say, didn't see it comin' from ye, Commodore."

"I am not a pirate."

"Funny, ye 'ad me fooled."

"I do have a valid reason for doing what I have, which – "James broke off then, as if sensing that Jack had been trying to get him to tell what exactly he was doing. Suddenly he sighed.

"Alright. I'll tell you. But you'll have to promise not to tell anyone. And I mean, anyone."

"No need te worry 'bout that. I'll not tell anyone ye precious secret. Don't matter anyway, me crew's off the Pearl, 'cept for Ana and Gibbs, and ye'll not need te worry 'bout them hearin' anythin'." Jack looked around the cabin. It was incredibly stuffy in there, the heat making it almost unbearable to stay inside.

"Ye know what? If ye goin' te reveal all, ye might as well do it outside. There's at least a breeze blowin' and the fresh air will probably do ye some good."

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Ana-Maria watched as first Jack emerged from his cabin, followed by their newcomer, the Commodore Norrington. She recognised him alright; had done so when they'd stumbled upon him in that alley. She'd covered her shock well – Jack certainly hadn't noticed, and she knew for a fact that the Commodore wouldn't recognise her. She might be a pirate and had had to work twice as hard to get to her present position, but she'd managed to keep herself low on any navy's list of wanted criminals. Unlike Jack, the show off.

Which lead her to wonder what Jack was doing helping the man who, as far as she was aware, had arrested him twice and tried to hang him. It was because of this that she knew Jack knew whom Norrington really was, and that he must have silenced Gibbs on the matter too. If he hadn't, Gibbs would've once again told his stories of how he'd once served in the British Navy under the man currently standing on the deck of the Pearl, the man she recognise from her brief but numerous forays into Port Royal.

Ana could see him still wincing from sore muscles and barely healed cuts. She sighed, exasperated. Why the hell was she helping him? They were stood leaning on the deck rail and by all appearances were about to have some long conversation, but she cut in anyway.

"Why don't ye go for a swim?" She asked Norrington. Briefly she wondered what name he'd most likely given to Jack. "We'll be here a while - the crew's on shore at the moment, and besides, salt water will help those wounds of yours heal."

For a short moment she thought he did recognise her from the penetrating look her gave her, as though trying to place her face. Cleary it was just her imagination though, as he merely nodded and smiled at her, then walked, if a little unsteadily, further along the ship's rail.

"Jack," she whispered, nudging him, "ye'd better go to, don't ye think? Ye don't want him drownin' on us now, do ye?"

Perhaps it was just a shameless excuse to get Jack to take his shirt off, but she didn't care. Ana-Maria made no attempt to hide the fact that she was staring, first at Jack's well muscled chest as he took his shirt off, then when she noticed, Norrington's equally as muscled if not as tanned chest.

Ana shook her head. Sometimes she really had to get control of herself.