Disclaimer: If this 'umble buccaneer really be ownin' Pirates of the Caribbean, d'ye really think I'd be postin' me story here? Nay, I post 'ere 'cuz I don' own it, and 'cuz I like this place; please don' slay me, mods! Please be enjoyin' me work, an' don' forget t' review!

Chapter 2

Jack's eyes fluttered open. The sky was dark, decorated by clouds of brilliant stars and a full moon. He had been assigned to watch the helm as the ship drifted through the night. He lifted his head from the coil of rope he had rested it on, cocking his hat up from atop his face with his thumb. The "Turk's head", or the fancy knot of rope tied around one of the spokes on the wheel, was still on the uppermost spoke, which pointed towards the starlit heavens, thanks to his right foot, which was planted in between the bottom rungs of the wheel. Smirking at the fact that he could keep the ship straight and still get some sleep, much to the surprise and annoyance of the "captain", he was sure, he let his hat fall down on his face again and tried to fall asleep again.

That is, he tried. His eyes flew open under the shelter of his hat, remembering seeing something white—besides the sails, which had all been tied up except the fore top and gaff sails—at the bow of the ship. He almost leapt from his rather lazy position, his legs kicking up awkwardly as he struggled to his feet, pulling his hat from his face and quickly standing straight, hands at the helm.

A slender figure stood atop the railing of the Cloud Treader, using the jib lines as support as they slowly made their way across the bowsprit.

Kicking two boxes to either side of the bottom spoke of the wheel so it wouldn't make an unexpected turn while he was away, he slowly approached the figure at the bow of the ship.

The moonlight soon gave him enough light to recognize the figure. Morgan? He stepped carefully down the steps, feeling for any weak boards that would creak under his weight and give away his presence. He'd reveal himself when he felt like it. As he grew closer, he found that it was indeed Morgan now standing at the middle of the bowsprit, and wearing nothing but a lacy white chemise, white knee-length drawers, an off-white corset, and stockings. He stopped himself a moment before he whistled an approval.

He had made it up the steps to the bow when he finally felt he should alert her to his company. "Don' you think it's even slightly inappropriate to be standin' on the bowsprit after dark, luv?" Jack smirked.

Morgan reacted much calmer than he expected. That is, she didn't scream and jump off the boat. She did, however, gasp and whirl around, luckily having a jib line in her hand to steady her.

"And in yur undergarments?" Jack added, shrugging slightly. "Not that I mind…" he added in a low voice.

Morgan scoffed and rolled her eyes, pretending to be calmer than he could tell she really was. "I hardly think this is the first time you've seen a woman in her undergarments."

Jack chuckled, "Aye, but it's much funner when yer the one takin' 'em—" he suddenly realized he should probably change the direction he was going when Morgan flushed and glared at him, "—out to dry." He mentally smacked himself for such a ridiculous save, but kept going. "Aye, nothin's finer than clean laundry flyin' in the wind like a Jolly—" and it was time for another quick save, "—ol' English flag." He mentally smacked himself again, praying he had kept his cool throughout that absurd story.

Morgan cocked an eyebrow, then shook her head, apparently dismissing him as simply strange. But at least she bought it. That was close.

"But back to ye," Jack took the advantage to change the subject, "ye wou'n't want some rowdy, drunk'n sailor teh come up and find he likes what he sees."

"I know for a fact that no rum was distributed tonight." Morgan smirked, the wind pulling a few strands of chestnut hair from the loose bun at the back of her head and whipping them about.

"Dos'n't mean they can't get their hands on it." Jack raised his eyebrows, proving his point.

"Touché," Morgan gave a small laugh, finally starting to relax. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, shrugging. "Then I suppose I'm lucky all I ended up with was you."

There was a sudden lurch as the boat hit a large wave, causing her to fly forward towards the deck. Luckily Jack was right there to catch her, grinning devilishly. "Aye, ye be lucky ye got ol' Jack, but methinks not in the way yer expectin'."

Morgan's mouth opened, but no sound came out, her face flushing. Struggling in his arms, she finally managed to free herself and, stammering, "Yes, well…" almost too fast for him to understand, she muttered a quick, "Good night!" and ran to her cabin.

Jack chuckled and, walking back to the stern of the ship and resuming his position, he finally managed to fall asleep, with an amused smile on his face.

•••

It was well past dawn when Morgan awoke, immediately wishing that she could've slept forever, after what had happened last night. She didn't want to face Jack—she just knew he'd rub it in, if even in the slightest. Finally she dragged herself out of bed and had Walter aid her in donning a light green dress.

The entire crew was on deck, up to their normal activities when she stepped on deck. At once, all eyes were on her, their thoughts rather obvious.

Walter cleared his throat, a warning. Morgan rolled her eyes.

There came a small applause from behind her. She turned to see Jack stand up from the barrel he had been seated on. "Luv'ly, luv'ly, luv'ly," he grinned. "Though I must admit, I think I preferred ye in yer undergar—"Morgan's palm cracked across Jack's cheek, stopping him before he could finish and the crew was able to overhear. He pulled his head back with a nervous grin and a shrug. "I deserved that…"

The day was a rather uneventful one. Walter used his old fishing skills to help the crew catch some fresh food, while Morgan helped mend one of the sails. Rackham taught her a few folksongs, while Jack and Gibbs regaled her with sea stories. When evening finally came, she almost regretted having to leave for her cabin. She wished she could continue to consort with the crew, but common sense and Walter would not allow it. Pulling out her diary, she could at least write down all that she had learned. She'd start with a song Rackham had taught her.

"Yo-ho, yo-ho, a pirate's life for me!…"

•••

Jack waited until the sun set, plunging the Cloud Treader into shadows. Pulling his compass from his belt, he flipped open the small box and inspected the rotating disks and arrow. A smile played over his lips.

Gibbs stepped up to his right, glancing from the compass to Jack. "Cap'n?"

"Gather the crew, mate." Jack murmured, snapping the lid of the compass closed. "We're tak'n' the ship."

•••

Morgan's eyes snapped open at a loud crashing noise outside her cabin. Climbing out of her bed, she draped a white shawl over her shoulders against the sudden cold of her quarters. Walter was nowhere to be found. She reached for her candle when there came another crash from outside. She ran to the door to see what was going on, when she heard footsteps approaching from outside.

•••

Gibbs threw open the door to Miss Scarlet's quarters; if she had been sleeping, she certainly wouldn't be anymore. Glancing about the dark cabin, he noticed her lying with her back to him under the covers of her bed. He strode towards the bed, a cocky smirk spreading across his face. "Rise and shine, m'lady." When Miss Scarlet didn't stir, Gibbs reached for the covers. She's a deep sleeper… "You listenin', Miss Scarlet?" He grasped the edge of the covers. "I said get up!" He threw the covers back to find, to his bafflement, not a woman, but a pile of pillows. "Bullocks!" Whirling around, he found the cabin door wide open.

•••

Brandishing his gun threateningly, Jack gave the captain and his first mate a gold-toothed smile as they were led from their cabin. "Sorry, mates. 'S just such a fine ship, and with the bow pointin' towards treasure, couldn' resist."

Griffith snarled. "And how do you intend to get it without a map? Without the map, you'll get nothing!"

"You mean this map?" Jack pulled the piece of parchment out of his jacket pocket and held it up to the lamplight.

The anger in Griffith's face melted away to an astonished stare.

Jack smirked. "Never und'restimate a pirate, cap'n," his smirk gained a darker tone to it, "er ex-cap'n."

Griffith's anger returned, mumbling curses and obscenities under his breath as Jack's men shoved him and Mr. Miller towards the brig.

"Cap'n!" came Gibbs' voice from the bow of the ship.

"How goes it, mate?" Jack inquired as he took his place at the helm, feeling a sense of freedom course through his veins at taking control of the ship. It was as if it was a whole new ship—it was as if it were the Pearl.

"I lost 'er!"

That feeling was short-lived.

"What?" Leaping down to the lower deck, Jack found Gibbs grumbling to himself, holding a pillow in his hands. Running into Morgan's chambers, clinging to some hope that she might be hiding somewhere, he was greeted with dark, empty silence. "Oh bugger…"

•••

Delicately tiptoeing down the stairs to the lower decks, Morgan kept all senses alert in case anyone decided to try to sneak up on her. As she reached the hold, footsteps and soft curses rose behind her. She quickly hid behind a pile of barrels and boxes, peering back to the door from a gap between two crates.

Two rather dirty men she recognized from the crew forced Captain Griffith and Mr. Miller down the stairs.

Can't say I'm surprised… Morgan mentally rolled her eyes. So they were pirates! She felt both anger and fear bubbling up inside of her. Pirates had slipped aboard by impersonating an honest crew and now had the nerve to commandeer her ship.

The men forced Griffith and Miller into the brig, where a few of the non-pirate members of the crew had already been locked away. They shouted all sorts of curses and obscenities at the two pirates as they added the captain and his first mate to their little gathering. One stayed by the cell while the other headed back to the upper deck.

Morgan looked around, trying to find something helpful to do. Amidst the crowd she found Walter, standing still and silent as always. A moment later he noticed her. Standing aloof from the crew, he began motioning with a flicker of his eyes to the keys to the cell at the pirate's belt.

Understanding his message, she nodded purposefully.

Suddenly she realized that the pirate was staring right at her as well. He blinked a few times before it hit him, causing him to jump. "Hey, you!"

"Run for it, Miss Scarlet!" Walter shouted urgently.

The pirate leapt forward, reaching to catch her hair, arm, anything that he could grab a hold of to detain her with, but Morgan was already out of his reach. She took off through the hold, tipping over barrels as she went to block the pirate's path. The pirate still managed to catch up and grabbed a hold of her left arm roughly.

"There ye are, little missie," he said in a mocking tone. "We've been lookin' for ye."

Morgan, desperate to get out of the large man's grip, grabbed his wrist with her free hand and bit down hard.

The man screamed in pain and released her to clutch his wounded arm possessively.

Running behind a pile of barrels of fresh water, she squeezed into the space between two and hoped she wouldn't be noticed.

The pirate ran into view, looking for hiding places she might have run to. After about a minute of searching, he gave up with a frustrated groan and stomped off, his grip on his red arm tightening both in anger and pain.

Morgan hugged her knees to her chest, not daring to even sigh in relief. Too close…

•••

"Ye sure it was her ye saw down 'ere?" Jack glanced about the hold, noticing the upturned barrels.

"As sure as this 'ere bite on me arm." Harper grumbled.

"A'right." Jack waved him away. "Ye watch the brig. I'll find her."

Harper nodded and headed back towards the jailed crew.

Walking slowly down the path of overturned barrels, Jack looked around for any hint of Morgan's presence. Come out, come out, wherever ye are…

•••

Morgan stifled a gasp as Jack walked into view. Jack too? His appearance did verify that discovery, but she had hoped it was just a coincidence. She held back a sniffle as anger began to form beneath betrayed tears. So be it.

•••

Jack had walked all the way down the hold, to the point where the tipped barrels stopped, far enough from the brig that no one there would be able to see or hear them. He stopped and looked around. She had to be around here somewhere.

Inspecting the dark spaces between barrels, Jack held his breath to listen for any sounds whatsoever. Rapid, labored breathing rose over the silence. It was then that he noticed a single violet eye watching him from a niche between boxes and barrels. He knew those eyes anywhere—no one else he knew had slightly different colored eyes like hers, one brown, one a more violet shade. Acting as if he hadn't seen it, he walked out of her line of vision and pulled his pistol from his belt. Tiptoeing towards the cranny, he waited for a few seconds before he casually moved the nose of his pistol into the niche.

"Come on out, luv."

There was a startled gasp, and then Morgan slowly stood, her head hung low.

"What's wrong, luv?" Jack smiled as innocently as he could make it. "Su'prised to see me?"

"Why didn't you tell me you were a pirate?" She murmured.

Jack blinked. "What?"

Her head snapped up, revealing a startlingly angry glare. "Why didn't you tell me you were a pirate?" She stormed past him, not waiting for him to answer.

Bewildered that she could behave so boldly to a man with a gun in his hand, Jack felt she deserved a reply. " 'Cuz then I wouldn't've gotten the job!"

"Exactly!" Morgan snapped back.

Running after her, Jack tried as best he could to redeem himself to her. "Well, would it help if I said it now?" He stopped and, sweeping his arms in a grand gesture, placed his hands proudly on his chest. " 'I, Jack Sparrow, am indeed a pirate'."

Morgan stopped and turned, and incredibly sarcastic look on her face, "Oh, Jack, that's so sweet." She said in a fake sweet voice, which was dropped a moment later. "A lot of good that does!" She stormed away from him again.

Jack, now quite confused, ran after her again. "I thought ye'd appr'ceate it!" Fed up with chasing her, Jack reached forward and grasped her wrist, forcing her to stop and look at him. "A'right, look."

Morgan winced as her wrist twisted the wrong way, though she continued to fight his grip despite the pain.

Immediately regretting hurting her, he relaxed his grip slightly and tried to soften his expression. "Look, I'm not gonna lock ye up wit' the rest of the lawful crew, savvy?"

Morgan continued to struggle against his grip, which, even when he loosened it, was still too strong to break free from.

Jack frowned. "I'm not gonna lock ye up, 'cuz I like ye, luv. But I'm takin' ye to yer cabin. Ye can either come peace'bly, or I can drag ye there." Trying to soften his expression as much as possible to try to soothe her, he spoke again, softer. "Yer choice."

•••

Gibbs' head went up at the enraged screams from the hold. He glanced towards the hatch to see Jack carrying a kicking and screaming Miss Scarlet in his arms, a frustrated look on his face as he dodged her flailing fists. Jack walked into the open door of Morgan's quarters, where there were more screams, a sudden yelp and a thud, and a flurry of curses Gibbs never would've expected a proper lady to know. Jack walked quickly out of the cabin and slammed the door behind him, jamming it shut with a broomstick. Then, grumbling to himself, he stormed up to the helm and clutched the spokes of the wheel tightly as if it were someone's neck.

Fearing his captain's wrath, Gibbs quickly headed for the hatch to find some job that needed doing.