Disclaimer: I don't own Port Royal, the jail, or Jack. I do own the soldiers, Cee, and everything else in this chapter that wasn't in the movie. So there : P.

Author's Note: Can you believe this?? I'm back again!! Dominic and Sandra (my muses) will not leave me alone. Not that I'm complaining mind you. Anything is better then them leaving me for Puerto Rico (apparently a big muse vacation hot spot). Technically, I should be doing homework. Technically.

But I love you more…than homework.

Also, in this chappie, I have several dialogues in French. Translations are provided at the bottom. When you see () that is the start and when you see it again, that's the end. You're welcome.

Adios Amigos,

T.F.

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Dèsirèè stood up from where she had been unceremoniously tossed and brushed the dirt from her pants, listening to the cell door clang loudly behind her.

Jack had also been thrown into the jail cell and had already made himself quite comfortable on a pile straw in the corner, his hat pulled over his eyes. At last he could get some proper rest.

Dèsirèè, sniffed the air experimentally, noticing a faint rancid odor. "Did something die in here?" she inquired, turning to the guard still locking the heavy iron door.

He looked up at her with his eyebrows scrunched together in thought. "Hm? Oh yeah, an old beggar man. Didn't notice he was dead for a good six days." The man smiled wickedly at Dèsirèè, whose eyes were wide in disbelief.

"Six bloody days?? Didn't ye notice the smell?"

"Well he was lying in the straw there; it absorbed a lot of the stench for a while."

Jack lifted the brim of his hat with two fingers, looked down at the bed of straw that was under him, and quickly scrambled off of it. The guard laughed repulsively and sauntered over to the far end of the room, where his comrade was waiting with a pack of cards.

Jack continued to gape at the pile of straw with a sickened expression while Dèsirèè surveyed their surroundings. It wasn't the worst prison she'd been in (Gungam Island Jail took that title) but it wasn't exactly homey either. The floors and walls were slimy to the touch and the odious aroma of decaying flesh was doing nothing for the atmosphere. The only forgivable feature was a good-sized, barred window that let in plenty of light.

Dèsirèè sneaked past the still abhorred Jack and set herself up on the windowsill, leaning her back against one side and bending her legs so she would fit. Jack saw the prime spot about two seconds too late and glared at the female pirate.

"Oi, girlie! I want that seat."

Dèsirèè just snorted at him, closing her eyes, "Ye actually think you're gonna get it?"

Under normal circumstances, Jack would have lifted her off of his seat and dropped her on the floor. But Dèsirèè was not normal circumstances. Jack could tell that under that calm façade was one frustrated, brassed off pirate.

Maybe he'd take the floor.

At that moment, he heard someone coming up the steps. He perked up; his first thought was that it was Will. However, he was very much mistaken. Climbing the stairs was a striking African-American woman, probably about 25 to 27 years of age. She wore a low-cut, off the shoulder red top with a white skirt that reached down to the mid-calf. Leather boots adorned her feet. She was average in height and her russet hair varied from long braids to feathery loose sections. Her dark chocolate eyes scanned the room casually, momentarily resting on Dèsirèè and Jack.

The two guards spotted her, pausing their poker game. "Hey," cried one, starting from his chair, "What do you think you're doing up here?!"

The woman started, her eyes going wide and innocent. "Me? Why, I'm looking for you two."

Dèsirèè scowled in confusion before slowly opening one eye. When she saw the strange lady, she closed the eye slowly, a wide feral grin spreading across her now relaxed face.

If Jack had noticed this, he might have been more prepared for what was to come. The truth was however, that his attention was firmly fixated upon the young woman in question who sashayed her way across the room. In his mind, he was cursing the damned lucky guards.

"What do you want?" asked the man, still glaring suspiciously. Obviously he was not very fluent in body language, as anyone with a basic understanding of the dialect could see EXACTLY what her attractive body was attempting to communicate.

"Isn't it obvious?" asked the woman, seriously invading the man's personal space. She pouted her shapely lips. "You."

Something in the guard's mind must have clicked because his mouth dropped open and he sought emotional support by gripping the table behind him. His fellow sentry was still sitting at the table, eyes wide, the full house he had in his hand clearly forgotten.

Jack looked on in astonishment, sullenly wondering why such a thing had never happened to him. Dèsirèè didn't move, but continued grinning.

The ebony lady placed one hand on each side of the guards face, leaning in as if to kiss him. The guard was sending a quick prayer up to God telling him that if he let him get away with this one, all vice would be cast out of his life forever. Unfortunately, the faithful man never got a chance to prove his devotion as his neck was suddenly cracked like a chicken bone.

Jack jumped away from the bars as the woman carelessly dropped the limp body onto the ground and reached down to her boot. Once the second sentry had recovered, he leaped from his chair and rushed towards the murderess. She casually turned around and stabbed him with an ornate dagger. When the unlucky guard had fallen to the ground, she nonchalantly replaced the weapon into her boot.

Jack stayed cowering on the floor, his gaze one of amazement and fear. What would this strange black widow do now? Kill the witnesses as well?

"You never have been one for subtlety," stated Dèsirèè, her eyes finally open, staring bemusedly at the ceiling, "Have you Cee?"

The woman turned around, surprise and relief flooding her face at first, but then quickly replaced by a death glare. "I believe Dèsirèè," she growled, "I just 'subtly' saved your arse from the hangman's noose. Again."

Dèsirèè hopped down from the ledge and meandered her way over to the bars, leaning her arms against them in order to converse more comfortably with her old friend. "How many times has it been now? Four? Six?"

"I stopped counting after eight. What would you do without me?"

Jack was recovering from his shock and stood up slowly. Dèsirèè and Cee kept on talking, completely ignoring his presence.

"Hey! I could have gotten out of this myself if they hadn't taken away me pick."

Cee looked aghast and then extremely angry. "Oh, you could have now, eh?" She trotted over to where the pirates' effects had been laid and fished around in Dèsirèè's coat pocket until she found the afore-mentioned lock-pick. Turning back to the jail cell, she tossed the instrument to Dèsirèè who had to lunge out to catch it. "Go ahead then," prompted Cee, "Get yourself out of there."

Dèsirèè blinked several times before glowering at her colleague and grumbling. "Foul, vile woman."

"Yeah, that would be me. Now pick the bloody lock."

Dèsirèè being occupied, Cee cast a bored glance over at Jack.

"Who's your new friend?"

"Hm?" Dèsirèè glanced up from the lock. "Oh how rude of me. Jack, this is Cindy Rowan. Cee, this is Jack-" she winced and immediately corrected herself before Jack could, "CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow."

Cindy tilted her head at the stunned pirate.

"Bonjour, Captain Sparrow. My name is Cindy, and I'll be your rescuer today," she said, amusement lining her deep voice. Jack nodded at her and grinned.

"Thank ye, Mademoiselle," he replied with a grin. Cindy raised an eyebrow at him, then turned to Dèsirèè, who was still diligently working on the lock.

"Il parle francias?" she asked. Dèsirèè looked over at Jack.

"Non, remercie Dieu," responded the female pirate, stopping her efforts momentarily to flex her hands.

"Ah, il est sourds-muets." Cindy looked back over at him, her head cocked to one side. "Mignon cependant." Dèsirèè answered with a simple, "Ew."

Jack sent them quizzical looks. "What are ye two gabbing on about now?"

"Oh nothing really," said Dèsirèè off-handedly, cursing the damned cell lock, "Ms. Rowan was just commenting on how attractive you are."

Jack raised his eyebrows in surprise before smiling seductively at Cee.

"No, no, no," said Cee, noticing his suggestively raised eyebrows, "No. If you were a Jacqueline, maybe. But no. Thank you, but no."

"Speaking of women," interjected Dèsirèè, not wanting Jack to ask some nosy questions that would probably end up with him dieing, "Hear you landed yourself a rich countess."

"And where, may I ask, did you hear that from?" question Cee, a slight undertone of distress flowing through her voice.

Dèsirèè heard the trickle of pain and looked up, concerned. "From Cassy, why? Cindy, what's wrong?"

"Elle est morte," said Cee with a sigh, "Yellow fever."

Dèsirèè froze on the floor, unsure of what to say. Not being able to deal with her own grief, she was often hesitant about helping others with theirs. "I'm…" she started, "…very sorry." The pirate shifted uncomfortably. "Maybe you should just stick with men."

Cee composed herself to snort sarcastically. "I am just too heavenly beautiful for men to catch, and everyone knows how worthless they are anyway. Never can make a relationship work. You, Des, need some work on that too." Her eyes sparkled maliciously.

"Relationships are overrated," Dèsirèè retorted back, getting increasingly frustrated with the lock, "Besides, I'm a pirate for chrissakes."

"Never stopped you before."

"People change," Dèsirèè pointed out, joyfully hearing the lock click.

Jack had watched the two women bicker and argue for quite sometime and, while he was very interested in discovering more information about the two, he was rather anxious to get out of the prison before the next round of guards came filing in.

Much to his relief, Dèsirèè stood up, gripped the bars with one hand and pushed off of the dirt floor with her foot, riding the door as it swung open. She jumped down from the door, replaced the pick into her breast pocket with a flourish, and bowed to Cee. Cindy rolled her eyes.

"Let's get out of here," she suggested, "Prisons give me the willies."

"Not with out my-" Before Jack could finish, his effects were thrown unceremoniously at him.

"There, happy now?" inquired Dèsirèè curtly. She was rather upset at Cindy, mentioning those kinds of things in front of…others. Still she knew it would do no good to berate the woman for her actions. Best to just get on with it.

The rag-tag group made their way out of the jail, staying in the shadows to avoid detection.

"Look, ye two, I know a place where we'll be safe," Jack said taking the lead.

"Lead on, Monsieur," Cindy said behind him, as they stealthily made their way after him.

"He speak French?" she asked. Dèsirèè looked over at Jack.

"No, thank God," responded the female pirate, stopping her efforts momentarily to flex her hands.

"Oh, he's stupid." Cindy looked back over at him, her head cocked to one side. "Cute though." Dèsirèè answered with a simple, "Ew."

A/N: This is shorter than some of my others, but it's still pretty long and seemed like a good place for a chappie break. Please tell me whatcha think!!

Adios Amigos,

T.F.