A/N: Thank you again to all those who have reviewed so far and to my beta, Jinxeh. Kudos to you if you can guess which TV show I got the title of this chapter from.

I wasted no more time in landing myself on the deck, then taking a moment to look around myself at the ropes and patched black sails. I had to admit it; I was pleased to be back here. The Black Pearl felt sturdy and strong, and I found it hard to believe what fate had in store for her and her captain.

I gave Gibbs a smile, though I knew he could not see it, as he reached down to help Jack climb on board. Gibbs reached his hand out, but instead of feeling Jack's hand grasp it, his hand was met with the cold, and frankly unpleasant feeling of decaying flesh and bone as Jack slapped the leg he had been using as a paddle into Gibbs' hand instead. Jack waved aside my additional offer to help him up, and stepped on board. As if on cue, Mr. Cotton stepped forward with Jack's coat, ready to place it on his captain's shoulders.

"Not quite according to plan," Gibbs remarked, passing the leg to his other hand and looking at it in moderate disgust and unease.

"Complications arose, ensued, were overcome," Jack said with a small, easygoing shrug. It was apparently all the explanation he was going to give about it. He only stood still long enough for Cotton to place his coat on his shoulders before he started to walk off across the deck. Instinctively, I fell into step at his side.

Behind us, Gibbs passed the leg to Cotton and hurried after us. "You got what you went in for, then?" he asked Jack, a trace of hopefulness in his voice.

"Mm-hm," Jack responded positively, reaching into his belt and waving an old and dirty rolled up piece of cloth in Gibbs' face.

Jack went to turn a corner around one of the masts when he was stopped short by his crew standing in front of him. Most of them I did not recognise, and I had to assume that Jack picked them up between the last time I saw him and now. Though I knew she would not be there, I still caught myself looking for Anamaria. Sure enough, she was no-where to be found and so I figured she left the crew at some point and moved on to other adventures. I did, however, recognise Marty. The tough, bald little person was sitting on the wheel that would be later be used to raise or lower an anchor. The crew, I noticed, did not look happy. In fact, they looked downright mutinous. I frowned, feeling the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I crossed my arms and gave the crowd a warning glare, not caring that I was invisible.

Gibbs and Cotton stepped up on either side of Jack, and Gibbs began a speech he had obviously prepared ahead of time. "Captain, I think the crew, meaning me as well, were expecting something a bit more… shiny." Gibbs waved his fingers to symbolize that certain 'shiny' thing he was alluding to, and such movements would have been amusing if not for the weight of the situation in the air, which almost seemed as heavy as the fog around the Black Pearl. "What with the Isla de Muerta going all pear-shaped, reclaimed by the sea, and the treasure with it…" Gibbs growled.

"And the Royal Navy chasing us around the Atlantic," an Indian crew member added. I think his name was Leech, and he seemed to be somewhat in charge, as if he was in the running for Gibbs' job.

"And the hurricane," Marty added. The rest of the crew murmured "aye," agreeing to that.

"All in all, it seems some time since we did a speck of honest pirating," Gibbs summed up, still sounding somewhat hopeful.

"Thank you, mister exposition," I muttered.

Jack frowned at the serious faces of his men. He realised that he had once again found himself with an unhappy crew, and he had to do something about it. I found myself seeing things from the crew's point of view. In all fairness, they had every right to be unhappy. After all, they had survived all those trials they mentioned, and so it seemed fair that they would eventually be rewarded for it.

The only problem with this was that Jack was in no mood to go after any treasure other than that which was becoming a pressing, life or death issue with him. There was only one shiny thing he needed right then, so far as he was concerned. The only problem was convincing the motley crew that they needed it, too.

"Shiny," he repeated to Gibbs, almost as though he was highly dubious to such a 'strange' word.

"Aye, shiny," Gibbs confirmed.

Jack gestured to the crew. "Is that how you're all feeling, then? That perhaps old Jack is not serving your best interests as captain?"

Some of the crewmembers glanced at each other, perhaps fearing that if they angered Jack, he would punish them in some way.

Cotton's parrot took the opportunity to speak up. With a loud squawk it shouted, "Walk the plank!"

Jack jumped and drew his pistol, aiming it at the parrot's face as Cotton pinched his beak shut. "What did the bird say?" Jack demanded loudly.

"Do not blame the bird," Leech told Jack. He nodded towards the worn piece of fabric Jack had brought back with him from the prison, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Show us what is on that piece of cloth there."

Jack gave him a look and was about to say something when all of a sudden, Jack the monkey, in full cursed skeletal form, dropped down in front of Captain Jack's face. The monkey screeched and hissed loudly. Everyone jumped and cried out in surprise and a bit of fear, including myself. Even though I was expecting it, that damn monkey still made me scream! Jack tried to fire at the monkey, but the bullet jammed in his pistol. The monkey, seeing an opportune moment, hit the deck and grabbed the cloth scroll from Jack's hand before scampering away across the deck. Jack grabbed another pistol from a crew member's belt and the crowd parted for him as he aimed at the monkey. Jack's aim was good, and his shot hit it, knocking it enough so it dropped the cloth. The monkey tumbled and kept running. The whole scene was a bit comical, though it didn't surprise me that no one was laughing.

"You know that does no good," Gibbs said to Jack, sounding tired.

"It does me," Jack countered in a low mutter. I smirked. Immortal monkeys, especially that immortal monkey, would probably be quite therapeutic to shoot at from time to time when one knew that the repercussions from it would be minimal, at best.

Marty hopped down from his perch and ran up to the fallen cloth. He picked it up, mindless of the glare that Jack was giving him, unfolded it, and took a look. "It's a key," he announced, confusing reigning in his voice.

Jack stepped forward and took it from him. "No, much more better. It is a drawing of a key." He showed the image to the crew like a young boy showing off his new toy at a playground. It looked like no key I had seen before, with two blades, one slightly longer than the other, and a short row of teeth on the tip of each blade. I felt a slight sense of foreboding, knowing what role this key and what it went to was going to play in my life, the life of my assignment, and just about everyone else we were to encounter.

Gibbs and the crew took a few steps forward to have a closer look. There was an unspoken question burning to come from each of them them, which Jack picked up on and answered before they could say it for themselves.

"Gentleman, what do keys do?" he asked, his tone reflective of a primary school teacher addressing his class.

"Keys… unlock t'ings?" Leech hazarded a guess.

Gibbs leapt on that train of thought rather quickly. "And whatever this key unlocks, inside there's something valuable?" He rubbed his fingers together in the universal symbol for money, a greedy glint in his eye. "So, we're setting out to find whatever this key unlocks."

"No," Jack said, in a perfectly happy tone of voice.

Gibbs frowned, confused. Jack stepped towards him, a grin on his scruffy face.

"If we don't have the key, we can't open whatever it is we don't have that it unlocks," Jack explained, sounding chipper. "So what purpose would be served in finding whatever need be unlocked, which we don't have, without first having found the key what unlocks it?" Now, he seemed a little less sure of himself, but he was doing his best to hide it when faced by his crew.

It took Gibbs a few moments to wrap his head around what Jack Sparrow had said. I admit, even though I knew what my assignment was trying to declare, I even found myself a tad confused. Jack tended to have that effect on people, I'd come to notice.

"So, we're going after this key," Gibbs said, managing to sound excited.

Jack gave his first mate a look. "You're not making any sense at all," he said, an eyebrow cocked in bemusement. I rolled my eyes with a slight smile. Gibbs' smile, however, fell from his face. Jack addressed the rest of the crew. "Any more questions?"

"So… do we have a heading?" Marty asked.

"Ah! A heading." Jack took his trusty old compass from one of his belts and opened it as he turned away from the majority of his crew. I stood up on my tip toes to peer at the face of the compass. Jack raised a finger and turned it, mimicking the spinning needle. "Set sail in a…" Jack began to announce, but he was hindered by the fact that the compass would not stop turning. "… general…" Jack's finger pointed one way, then to the other, off to his left. Behind him, the crew all looked in that direction. "… that way direction," Jack finally decided, though he didn't sound entirely sure.

"Captain?" Gibbs asked of the odd command.

Jack closed the compass and began to push through the crowd, heading towards his cabin. "Come on, snap to and make sail, you know how this works. Go on!" Jack said distractedly to Gibbs as he passed. A few sharp "oi!"'s were enough to get the rest of the crew out of his way.

I sighed softly as I followed him, not happy at seeing Jack like this. I knew that the crew, especially those who had sailed with Jack for a long time, would be aware that something wasn't right with him, but no one said anything about it…at least, not to his face. Something was troubling him, and that was a worrying thing. I cast my mind back to Gibbs and Marty, who were looking out over the sea in the haphazard direction Captain Sparrow had given them as though they were already expecting to see a speck of land on the dark horizon. Sure enough, they had noticed something was off with their captain.

"Have you noticed lately the captain seems to be acting a bit strange… er?" Marty asked Gibbs. Most likely, he meant that something was stranger than normal about their captain.

Gibbs agreed. "Setting sail without knowing his own heading…something's got Jack vexed, and mark my words, what bodes ill for Jack Sparrow bodes ill for us all."

I nodded to myself, seeing the truth in Gibbs' words. Jack had a habit of dragging other people into his problems, thereby endangering them. I bit my lip as lightning flashed in the distance. A storm was definitely coming, in more ways than one. Sighing, I turned around and followed Jack into his cabin.

"Where'd you get the new crew from?" I asked.

"Oh, all over," Jack replied, still distracted. He waved his hand in my general direction as he hunted for something in the clutter that made up most of the cabin.

"Hmm…" I pondered. "You know…I don't think you can trust many of them…"

"They're pirates, Calypso. You got to take what you can get. Besides, this lot are better than my old crew…" he added in a mumble.

I raised an eyebrow. "The one that mutinied?"

"That's the one," Jack confirmed. He turned and faced me, having finally found what he was looking for: a half-full bottle of rum.

I scoffed. "Only slightly. You have a few good men here, but I'd still watch out, Jack. They're not that far away from leaving you behind on an island or whatever."

Jack offered me the bottle "You still not drinking?"

"Yes, I'm still not drinking."

"Good. More for me." Jack took a long swig as he sat down in his chair. "So, you've been keeping busy?"

"Yeah." I sighed and leaned against the table that was cluttered with maps and such. "Two assignments between now and the last time I saw you. I helped to save the world in the future. Even met the devil himself."

"Did you?" Jack sounded unimpressed. I suppose with all he had seen in his life, stories like mine might not seem very special. I wondered if that meant they also didn't sound plausible, to him?

"Yeah. So, Jack, tell me… do you have a plan as to how you're going to find the key?" I asked this with full knowledge that he didn't yet have a plan, yet I was curious as to what his answer would be.

"Nope, no idea, but that's why I've got you." Jack flashed me a grin, his gold teeth glowing in the candle light.

I smiled vaguely. "I'm sure we'll come up with something."

Jack took another few swallows of rum. Outside, I heard the monkey shriek and one of the pirates curse at it. "How'd you get the monkey?" I asked Jack, though I was half able to piece it together myself.

"Picked up the little monster when we tried to go after the treasure Barbossa had stored away on Isla de Meurta," Jack said. "It was paddling around and stowed away like a rat. We can't get rid of it now. Won't leave the bloody ship."

"Huh. Well, you never know. He may come in handy one day."

"I doubt it," Jack grunted. He took another drink.

"Jack, have I ever led you wrong before?" I asked with a small grin.

"Not that I can remember," Jack admitted, though he seemed leery of admitting it.

"Though you should remember, that even though I know what's going to happen to you, and to me, I can not tell you about it. If I break that rule, then I'm gone."

"Yeah, I know." Jack paused for a moment of thought. "I don't like that rule," he decided.

I shook my head. "No, me neither," I admitted. With a sigh, I looked over the maps on the table. "How about we try to figure out where we should go?"

"Yeah, all right."

Jack set the bottle down on the table and set about looking over the maps and charts, then setting himself to the somewhat disconcerting task of getting his compass to work correctly.