ACK! Writers' block! ; :crap: ;

To Authoressinhiding: you know what I've noticed in all the fics where some kid get sent to Jack's era? Many of them completely ignore the fact that this person needs to come home until the last minute where they're like, oh it was just a dream. I was just trying to be realistic. And I was putting meself in me main charrie's shoes ((theoretically speaking)) and adressing this as one of the problems in the story. Thanks for that review, though, cuz you really made me think this over and fully comprehend what me overactive imagination had cooked up. Danke schon! ; :overactive imagination acts up: ; Whoa, Johnny just walked by. ; :drools: ; Anyhow, onward to the next chappie!

Disclaimer: I own nothing: it all belongs to the mouse or my completely independent imagination.

Onward! R&R please!...oh, and enjoy—that's an important detail!

Fruit of a Differ'nt Kind

Amy returned to her pond one last time before she would leave. Taking a final swim, she lay back, floating, and basked in the luxurious sunlight. "Hungry, love?"

She jumped into an upright position, nearly sinking beneath the surface in the process, and treaded water, looking wildly around for the source of the voice. "Who said that?"

"I did." The head of a young man popped up in front of her and repeated, "Well, are ye hungry? There are fruits yonder what give ye a most pleasurable feeling when consumed." At her startled expression he added, "No, unfortunately not that pleasurable. It just makes ye feel more wonderful than ever ye have before, I guarantee it."

"Eh? Where be it, then?"

"Yonder," the seemingly friendly young man replied, raising a sleeveless arm to gesture toward the center of the pond.

Amy looked to see a small mound of an islet poking through the surface. "How long has that been there?" she asked herself, noting that she hadn't noticed it any of the other times she had hung out here—and also reminding herself she was an observant person. On that tiny isle, there grew a single plant with large, scale-shaped, purplish-brownish-greenish leaves. From this plant there grew a number of fruits. Or nuts—she couldn't tell which. They were crescent-shaped, almost completely hidden under those hoof-shaped leaves, with a shell what looked a bit like that of a coconut ((go figure)). They reminded her a little of bananas, yet at the same time, with one round side and one flat side, they reminded her a bit of boats, too. Short canoes...something like that. "Are they safe to eat?"

"I'm not entirely sure. Your Captain-friend seems to know a lot in this subject. Perhaps he can shed some light on it for you, eh?"

Amy nodded. "Um, thank you?" The young man nodded and sunk below the surface again. She rolled her eyes annoyedly. After all, wasn't popping up in random locations her thing? But curiosity got the best of her ((again, good thing she's no' a cat)) and she swam to the tiny spit. Of all the maroonish-brownish fruits, she guessed the maroon ones were the ripest and picked one. She swam back with it and returned to camp. "Hey Cap'n, I came across this fruit here, and I've no idea if it's safe to eat. What say you, eh?"

Jack looked up from cleaning his pistol, sober for the most part, and scrutinized the strange fruit. "I've heard of a fruit bearing a description such as this. The Eohippus fruit. It was supposed to retain 'magical attributes' and such. But I have no idea whether those were sailors' tales or truth, and since no one has really ever eaten it, I've no way of knowing if its healthy to eat." A wry grin spread across his face. "There's only one way to find out." He took the fruit from her.

"But what if it's toxic?"

"Well if our noses turn green and our tongues swell up, we'll know. Aye?"

Amy nodded, still uncertain but willing to take the risk. One bite, she told herself. Just one—it couldn't do much harm. "Aye." Jack pulled out a knife and sawed the fruit-nut in half. Looking at its rind, the lass noted, "It looks like a hoof."

"Sure, let's go with that, eh." Jack handed her a half. "Well, dig in." They both took a tentative bite of the soft, juicy flesh. Strange: it tasted like salty marshmallows, onions, sassafras and alfalfa. And it actually tasted pretty good. But Amy kept to her vow and only ate the one bite. Jack, of course, had forgotten the possible threat and was greedily consuming the rest of his half.

"Here, have the rest of mine," she offered.

"You don't like it?"

"I do, but I'd much rather see you with a green nose than myself."

"Suit yourself," Jack replied, tossing the empty shell over his shoulder and reaching for her outstretched half.

"I will," came her reply.

XxXxXxX

Finally, evening came and the crew embarked the Black Pearl to continue their journey. Of course, Jack warned them solemnly to treat their new passenger with respect, to not lay their hands on her in any unnecessary manner or they would face the wrath of their captain. Not that he was worried they'd try anything, but he wanted to be sure. She was, after all, in his charge. Of course, what to do with her he had no idea. Mm, maybe we can put 'er off at Port Royal with Will and Elizabeth, he thought. He showed her to a small cabin, assuring her she wouldn't be disturbed. It was well out of the crew's way. They all slept under the fo'c'sle anyhow, so again she would not be bothered. He gave her a tour of the ship, noting the important places such as the head, the galley, Gibbs' cabin, Cotton's cabin ((since he was the surgeon)), and his cabin, and even gave her a small tutorial on sailing. "I'm 'onna get you manning this ship if it's the last thing I do," he announced when she mentioned she was too lazy to be of any use.

"We'll see about that," she had replied, but reminded herself to do as he said out of safety for herself.

"Gibbs," Jack called, now, to the grizzled pirate currently at the wheel. "Chart a course for Port Royal. We'll put off our passenger with Mr. Turner and his fiancée for a spell."

"Aye, Cap'n," the old sailor replied, handing the wheel to Cotton while he went to the chart room to chart their course.

"But Mr. Sparrow," cried Amy, "I have to get back home!"

"I know, love. Don't fret. It's just that we're scheduled for a raid, and timing is the thing with these things, you understand, and Port Royal is on the way–."

"But what about my return?"

"I was getting to that. I will not see harm come to ye aboard my ship. Once we're done and through with this raid, I'll come back for ye, and we can figure things out from there. Besides, Will and Elizabeth are pretty good at thinking this sort of thing through, you remember, and perhaps...they can help us—you—out of this mess." His expression said he didn't care, but she knew better...well, she knew the character better, anyway...

She sighed and gave in. "Fine. But how far away is it?"

"About four days." Amy was surprised by his answer. After all, wasn't the Royal Navy after them? How was it they could make berth at an island so nearby and not be noticed, not have had their secret spoiled?

"And what of Norrington and his men? It'd be a heck of a risk just to bring me in, wouldn't it?"

"It's a risk I'm willing to take," Jack replied seriously. "As I have said, I will not see harm come to you aboard my ship as consequence to our completely necessary line of action."

"But—"

"No buts, young missy. The 'happy couple' will be glad to take you in for just a bit. They're good people. You understand that, don't you?" She nodded. "Good. After then, I'll return for ye as soon as I can." He nodded to Anamaria as she passed. "Now, then, in the event that we are attacked or boarded between now and when we reach Port Royal—unlikely—then you will need to know how to defend yourself, aye? So, do you know how to wield a blade?"

"Not a chance, eh."

"Then now's the opportune moment to learn." He shrugged off his coat, gingerly removed his hat, and picked up two discarded pieces of wood. He handed one to her. "School is now in session." They began with the basics, which the lass picked up quickly and easily. She was a quick learner and a clever thinker, as Jack was learning. But as they moved into more advanced methods, she found the footwork was harder than it seemed, and was off-balance. She was tiring quickly, her previously mentioned laziness having left her bereft of endurance, and decided to try something she'd seen in Lord of the Rings. With a quick flick of her wrist, she'd sent her adversary's plank flying. "Well done for your first," Jack praised, shaking her hand.

"Sure. Right. Uh-huh."

"I understand it feels a bit awkward, but you're better than you think. Honest."

"Since when were pirates honest?" she smiled. "Thanks very much."

"Of course, any real adversary—as in, one who was actually trying—would probably be thrice as fast and thrice as strong," he always had to ruin the moment, "so be on your toes."

"That would take a good deal more coordination, of which I am already, sadly, lacking," she replied, deciding to take the literal meaning. "Dunno how you can do it in boots," Amy added, lifting one foot off to the side and stretching her toes like a cat.

"It all depends on how you learn...Think of it as an art form, if you will: everyone learns it differently, everyone has their own style."

He had taken the analogy right out of her mouth. "Stop reading my thoughts, sir, or ye'll really have something to worry about. Where I come from, men have learned to fear the wrath of an angry teenage girl!"

Jack looked at her oddly a moment before realizing she was kidding, and chuckled, holding his hands out in front of him in mock-defense. "Y'know, it surprises me that a girl who voices her thoughts as freely such as yourself would address me as 'sir' or 'mister' instead of by my Christian name."

"Are you insinuating you wish me to call you otherwise, then?"

"Aye. Out of respect for the both of us."

"Alright, then, Debbie." Jack groaned and walked off, making sure to gather up his belongings—especially his hat—as he went. But she approached him again later that evening just after dinner. "Captain. Freedom to choose from the titles I saw in your cabin?" ((A/N: For those of you who didn't get that, 'do I have the freedom to read any of the books I saw earlier in your cabin?'))

"You're literate?" Jack gasped, surprised.

"Well yeah. Why? That a problem?"

"No, of course not. I just didn't think a girl of your age—or most any girl at all—would know how to read."

"Oh yeah, I forgot: women don't hold much of a place in this world."

"Aye. Honestly an unfavorable truth. But to answer your question, aye, you may pick and choose from any of the books in me cabin—that is, so long as it has a title."

"Ah. Why thank ye, Jack," she said, mimicking Barbossa. She saw a slight look of alarm enter his eyes as he connected the line with the memory. "So when may I come?"

"Now is fine. Come on, then." He led her back to his cabin, and left her to look through the surprisingly tall stack of books. The lass was surprised at how many of the titles there were, and of those how many were fiction. She finally chose an interesting-looking novel and brought it back with her to her cabin. She curled up in her hammock and read by the light of a securely-anchored candle. Finally, she noticed she could no longer see the moon through the small window of her cabin as she had when she'd first opened the book. She hadn't realized how late it had gotten. It surprised her that the book had been that good: she'd lost herself in it and completely lost track of general time. She marked the page she was on, blew out the candle, and went to sleep for the night.

XxXxXxX

The next morning began with another session in sword fighting. Jack handed the lass a cutlass, showing her how to hold it and maneuver it and such. They repeated much of what they had done the previous evening, method-wise, while she adjusted to the lighter weight and different shape. Of course this time she lost. Mostly due to her wariness of sharp objects and Jack's overabundance of pride. She had always been conservative in that sense, and had yet to emerge from that shell. But it would gradually ease away, as had her caution towards horses when she had first began taking riding lessons. In the words of , "Time eases all things."

"Alright, now on to something a bit more challenging."

"Like I wasn't being challenged enough?"

"Come on, now, love. The only way to succeed is to keep challenging yourself, to not let things such as techniques or methods get boring or be dwelled upon for too long. Savvy?" He was right. Curse him though she did, he was right. So they moved on. But after a while, Jack hastily ended their skirmish, dropping his cutlass as hers went flying, and leaning heavily on the bulwarks.

"Jack? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." The liar. He realized he'd been clutching his stomach and dropped his hand away casually.

"You sure? You look positively green!"

A/N: Sorry it took me so long to update this! The internet connection at my house died, so we went for about a week without the it! Can you imagine? Not being on vacation, and having to live without the internet? Torture, absolute torture. :grins jokingly: So yeah, chapter four on the way!...CHINCHILLA! ; :runs away: ;