Stepping onto the deck of Pearl for the first time was a moment I would remember forever. Even still in Tortuga, I felt as if I had just crossed into an entirely different world. The uproarious noises of laughter, screams and gunshots seemed to drift away on the balmy sea breeze. All I heard at that moment was the soft sound of my boots against the dry wood of the infamous Black Pearl, the soft rustling of the palm trees not far from the dock, and the gentle murmur of the small waves lapping against the ship.

Of all the ships in the Spanish Main, I had never seen one more beautiful than the Pearl.

"Shall I give you a moment, love?" the captain inquired, snapping me out of my dreamlike reverie. Embarrassed, I nodded my head, hoping the dim moonlight wouldn't illuminate the blush I knew was painting my cheeks.

Moving to the ship's railing, I glided my hand gently along the rough, worn mahogany. The wood dipped and curved beneath my fingertips, each ridge a different scar of battle. A cut here, doting on about the mighty war between two islands; a large chunk absent there, speaking irritably of a poorly tied knot. My gaze followed the woodwork to the chipping floorboards, flying up the mighty mast to where the sails flapped in the wind. It was a like a mirage, one reached to but never attained: the moon glowing softly against those eternal black sails – that cloth as ragged and wicked as its captain.

This is it, I told myself, still in awe. I am standing on the Black Pearl. I am running my hand along the railing of the ship that was home to cursed pirates. I am looking at the sails that are feared by every port in the Spanish Main. I am here, on the ship that has never been outrun in its entire history. I am on the ship that made history.

I stood there for a moment, letting the immortality of the moment seep into me. This was my dream realized. This was the pirate ship that every single member of the Royal Navy dreaded to one day encounter. This was ship that spawned innumerous legends and ghost tales. This was the Black Pearl.

I had to will my eyes not to water from the sheer emotion of it.

"She's beautiful, ain't she?" I heard Sparrow say, before I noticed he was leaning over the railing beside me. He gave me a deep, penetrating look, not mocking as I would have expected. It was as if he knew what I felt, as if it was as how he felt from the very instant he first stepped foot on this ship to right now, gazing out at the sea. His gaze deepened, until a maelstrom – bound by years of calculated practice – danced merrily within it. I gained a very deep respect for Jack Sparrow in that moment.

"Yes," I responded airily, seeing no reason to mask it. "She is undoubtedly every bit as beautiful as the legends say."

Jack gave a short, bitter laugh. "I'm glad someone appreciates her as I do," he mumbled. Somehow I could tell emotional moments like this were rare for the captain, and I felt a touch of sympathy and honor that he had chosen to share one with me.

Registering what he said, a part of me also felt scandalized. To gaze upon the Black Pearl and not see her for the mesmerizing enchantress that she was felt almost inhuman.

Heaving a sigh and putting most serious thoughts out of his mind, the captain stood up. "Would you like a tour?"

I nodded mutely.

As Sparrow led me about, showing me everything from the bridge to the brig, I was certain he was back to his usual self. Punctuating every description with innuendo, I was positive he was in his crowning glory when he opened the double doors and motioned inside. "And this be the captain's quarters." He paused, giving me another playful, casually seductive stare. "Or bedroom, as it were."

I grinned, wondering how I hadn't seen this on the horizon. "I'm sure it's quite spacious."

Jack sighed dramatically, regarding the empty room with an overplayed lovelorn look. "Aye, but it can be terribly lonely at times."

Mentally rolling my eyes, I reached in and shut the doors. "Well, that's a bloody shame now, isn't it?"

Sparrow grinned, following me back to the railing overlooking the ocean. "I can see you're not impressed, eh, love?"

I shrugged. "My humblest and most heartfelt apologies for not being absolutely vexed at the sight of a disheveled cabin, my good and honest sir."

He leaned on the banister beside me, observing the sea. "My vast and incredible intelligence of the feminine species tells me that you are not the average strumpet."

"Why, but you are indeed an intuitive man," I replied, exercising my dry wit.

"And the beauty of the Pearl does not sway your decision to join me in the pleasurable and welcoming company of my quarters?" he pondered.

I ran my hand along the rail. "Captain Sparrow, do not be fooled. The Pearl has done an excellent job of wooing me tonight." I turned to him. "It is you, I'm afraid, that should devise better tactics of seduction."

He grinned. "The scorn of a beautiful woman is almost more than this old seadog can bear, love."

"Somehow, I do believe the impregnable Captain Jack Sparrow will survive." I leaned off the railing and made my way to the other side of the ship, preparing to leave. "I shall go back into town and gather my things, and I will be here by five A.M. tomorrow morning."

The captain seemed saddened by my announcement of departure, no doubt disappointed that, yet again, he would not be sleeping with me. "Very well."

"Until morning, Captain." I gave him a quick salute and helped myself off the ship. As I made my way down the dock, feeling his eyes observing my every step, I already began to feel a touch of sadness and longing. Somehow, I sensed a small emptiness that beseeched me to turn back, and I found it quite hard to ignore the growing void.

Oh, don't be a bleeding girl about it, I reprimanded myself, you'll see the Pearl in the morning.