Chapter Three

It was evening when the Black Pearl was finally out of sight and sound of Totuga's crowded bay. The winds were fair; the waters smooth. Altogether it was ideal weather for sailing, a fact that had both Jack and Sheila nervous.

"What is it with those two?" Marie asked her father as they sat across from eachother at a small table below deck, drinking mugs of frothy beer they'd bought inland before leaving. The hearty redhead had put on a heavy trench coat that another of the pirates lent her so as not to 'distract the captain.'

The Captain himself was seated beside Sheila in a darkened corner, a map spread in front of them. They both looked worried as they traced possible routes on the large and weathered piece of parchment.

"Jack and Sheila?" Gibbs questioned after another sip of the rich liquid. Marie nodded. "Always a step ahead, those two are. As soon as someone yells out what a glorious day it is, they give eachother a weary eye and take to pouring over maps. I reckon we'll be in the midst of a mighty powerful storm in about three weeks. Either that, or a windless stretch of oceanic desert."

Marie watched them curiously, fingering a strand of the marigold brilliance that flowed beneath her pirate's cap.

"But what makes them so intuitive?" She asked at last.

"Seen a lot of troubles, those two. What with their dear Mary's death at sea, and Sheila's unexpected burden a while back…"

Marie raised an eyebrow. "Burden? As in…"

Gibbs nodded in affirmative. "It be the very reason you shouldn't bring women on board a ship. They get lonesome without company and-"

"I know how it works, father." Marie reprimanded Gibbs, who nodded his head apologetically.

"So…what happened to the child?" She questioned after several moments of silent beer sipping.

Gibbs shook his head. "No clue. I wasn't on the Pearl at the time. I hear tale that she dumped him over the side of the ship…but o'course tha's only a tale."

"Do you believe it?" Marie asked her father softly as she watched the seasoned pirate from across the room.

"Me? Nah. Poor Sheila's had her share of troubles, but she's a good lass. Course…the Sparrow's are known to be-"

"Gibbs!" Jack cried suddenly.

"Aye?"

"We need you opinion, mate." Sheila answered as she pulled her brown hair back from her tawny face. Gibbs nodded and stood making an oath of silence genture to his daughter before walking to where the two Sparrows sat.

Marie turned back and faced her father's empty chair and sighed. She never would have guessed Sheila…but then again a woman who spent most of her teen years in a whore house was bound to get knocked up eventually. Just like…

Marie shook herself. No. She would not allow herself to fall apart. She was strong. She could move on from what had happened…from her dear Eva…

Sighing again, she raised the mug to her lips and drank deep in her sorrow.

"Nice cabin. Jus' like I remember it." Sheila said as she sat down on the spare bed in the women's quarters. She had inspected the bedposts, the condition of the sheets and bedcovers, the cleanliness of the room itself; just about everything she could think of. At last she was satisfied.

"It should be." Anna Maria said, placing her weather beaten hat on a nail by the door. "The women deserve the cleaner cabin, so says the Captain."

Marie nodded. "So he's more comfortable if he decides to indulge in the pleasures of womanhood." She said contempt in her voice. The large sconces on the walls flickered as a breeze entered the open window.

Sheila laughed as she began to take her blouse off.

"You're the only woman here, mate. Anna Maria and I might as will be old crones!"

"Or men." Anna Maria added thoughtfully. The two laughed. Marie scowled.

"Oh don't worry yeself." Sheila said as she untied her stiff corset, favoring her wounded shoulder. "We'll take care of you." She turned around to fold the shirt and Marie gasped. "What?" Sheila asked, spinning back around. Her breasts were still tightly bound, a habit she had gotten used to doing to make her proportions a little less…inviting to the other pirates. Etching out from under the binding, however, were bright pink lines that created a meshwork of scars on the otherwise pristine caramel skin of her back.

"You…does it hurt? Your back I mean." Marie said, unable to hide her surprise. Was it possible Sheila could be scarred any more than she appeared to be? The redhead fingered her own cross shaped scars that covered her pale hands.

"Ah. Yes." Sheila nodded gravely. "Compliments of the British Royal Navy when I was with child. They said it wasn't right to hang me in such a state…some of the markings," She pointed to the stripes of brighter pink, "Are from when I was in a French prison three years ago."

Marie shook her head in wonderment at how lightly Sheila bored these markings. She began to question her about her pregnancy, but upon remembering the woman's earlier coldness and her father's gesture to remain silent on the matter, she dropped the subject and instead began undressing herself.

Sheila lay back upon the comfort of her new bed, the silvery moonlight shining upon her scarred body.

Anna Maria and Marie were already asleep by the time Sheila closed her eyes. She lie awake for many hours, remembering…

Three Weeks Later

"Put your backs into it men!" Jack cried as the crew worked to lower the ships' sails. The Sparrow intuition had been right once again; waves smashed down on both sides of the ship, slamming down bodies and winding even the strongest of them. The women of the crew had been ordered to stay below to secure loose items and watch for any signs of leaking. It was an important job to be sure, but one that none of the women felt low enough to do.

Sheila had just finished on the upper levels and was running, or rather, falling down the stairs, when she let out a scream.

"What?" Marie cried as she made her way towards the pirate, her head soaked from peaking out at the storm. There was a ferocious growl and Sheila gasped. "Oh that? That's just Nate."

"Who's Nate?" Sheila asked fearfully, holding onto the stair rail as the ship jolted.

"My tiger. Now come on, we have work to do!" Marie turned back around, leaving Sheila gaping open mouthed into the darkened lower level of the ship. Another frightened growl sent her flying up the stairs quite quickly despite the intense rocking of the ship. Sheila had never been a cat person.

By mid-afternoon the next day, Captain Jack Sparrow had brought the ship out of the storm, and the Pearl was now floating peacefully in the calms.

There was another type of storm raging on the ship however. Sheila Sparrow. She had been stalking him around the ship all day, complaining about his lack of propriety and more frequently, comment sense. Jack did his best to ignore her, continuing his extensive checkup of the ship. He stopped where a piece of the mast had broken off and now lie in shambles on the deck.

"…And furthermore, you are a vile creature with no respect for women."

"You said that one already." Jack said absentmindedly as he assessed the damage.

"I did? Well, only because it's true! And…letting a bloody tiger on board! What were you thinking?" As if on cue, Nate growled behind Sheila, who jumped. Marie had brought him up on deck, saying he was in need of fresh air to recover from his shock.

"He's not that bad once you get past the teeth." Jack assured her. "Would you hand me that splinter of wood?"

Sheila nodded handing her brother a large chunk of the mast as he tried to piece together the broken parts.

"I don't care how nice he is, Jack." She said, continuing her tirade. "I hate cats. And another thing! You bloody don't have any respect for Marie. She told me how you harassed-"

"Complimented is more like it."

"COMPLIMENTED!" Jack jumped, dropping the pieces of wood and stared at his sister, wide eyed. Behind them, Marie snorted with laughter.

"Is that what you call it these days? Complement a girl so she'll sleep with you?" Sheila was outraged.

"Actually," Jack said, picking up the pieces again. "It's much more effective then insulting the girl first."

Sheila slapped her brother, causing him to drop the wood again.

"And don't say you didn't deserve that. You've always set yeself up with women, and you've always gotten burned. It's no different here."

It was Jack's turn to be angry, although he handled it in a much less…angry way.

"Look lass. I don't care if you're in your bloody woman's time, no pun intended. The fact is, this is my ship. And no matter what partnership we had previously, that does not automatically make you a superior here. And don't pull that whole wounded weakling bit on me. I know fully well you are capable of handling yourself in whatever situation. The truth is, you are a guest on my ship. Nothing more. So don't pretend to be some godforsaken Queen of bloody Sheba and don't bloody think you're the only one who's had it rough the past ten years, saavy?"

Sheila stood still, staring at her brother with brilliant fire in her eyes. "Rough, mate?" She asked. Without a word, Sheila pulled off her shirt and began unwinding the leather bonds that encircled her lower arms, revealing scars and tattoos. One on her right hand was a fading rose with drops of blood falling from it's petals. Another was her pirate's insignia, a star with a sparrow in front of it. On her browned stomach, just beneath the rim of her half-corset, a long gash ran across the worn skin, only recently scarred over. Turning around, Sheila revealed the lash marks on her back.

"Satisfied?" Sheila asked her brother as she turned back to face him. Jack scowled, and to her surprise, pulled off his own shirt. The same pirate's insignia graced one arm, while his left was mangled with gruesome past wounds. Two bullet wounds stood out heavily against his own bronzed skin, and another on his side. Turning around, Sheila gasped despite herself. Deep gashes, much deeper than her own, crisscrossed his back, accompanied by one more bullet shot and a tattooed "P" on the small of his back.

"Satisfied." Jack replied, knowing he had won. After a moment's silence, Marie came up to them, a half grin and half grimace on her pretty face.

"If you're both done stripping, I think you may want to direct your attention to the nice British Navy Vessel heading our way."

Sheila and Jack whirled around as one to see the large war ship swiftly approaching them.

"Oh bloody hell." Sheila moaned. "They've spotted us. That may bloody well be the biggest Britt ship I've ever…Jack? Why are you smiling?"

"It's Norrington."

"Norrington? The one from Port Royal?"

"Aye."

"How can you be sure?"

Jack shook his head in humorous disbelief. "For one, I'd recognize that vessel anywhere. It's the Dauntless. Two, I can see him on the deck."

"Ah. So…what's your plan of action?" The previous feud was already long forgotten, just like in the old days.

"Norrington owes me too much to turn me in. No. My thoughts are that this is either coincidence, or he needs help. He always did like me…"

Marie eyed him skeptically, but shrugged. "So, what'll you do?"

"Raise the Jolly Roger. There'll be a feast tonight."