Hey all; back on track this update – a relatively short chapter, sorry, until exams are over (soon, I promise, soon). Starting from where I last left off, Jack and his merry men are off to celebrate the newest editions to his motley crew; 'Alex' included (who, may I say, is doing pretty well for someone I initially designed to be a minor character. I was going to have her pop up from time-to-time, but she's too much of a fun character to leave out of the adventures).

The sea-shanty I've used in this chapter is legitimately one the old sailors used to sing; called "Maggie May." The language towards the end is a bit strong, so those that are easily offended, ignore it. I like it for it's historic value.

NB: An Abel Brown - a vulgar sea shanty.

Botany Bay – penal settlement on the Australian Coast, recently established in those times (which probably means my timeline's out of sync...)

'Oh, I'll never forget the day when I first met Maggie May,
She was standing on a corner at Canning Place,
In a full-sized crin-o-line, like a frigate of the line,
And as she saw I was a sailor I gave chase…'

Will surveyed the blonde girl Alex over his tankard in the tavern, struggling to hear his own thoughts over the loud bellowing of the ballad of Maggie May. Each time Will was in a pirating port, he swore new verses got added to the shanty. Although Will was not one to drink, he needed the pick-me-up after the previous night's affairs. Still, why did the ale come in such huge mugs?

"Next morning when I woke, I found that I was broke,
No shoes or shirt or trousers could I find,
When I asked her where they were, she answers "My dear sir,
They're down in Lewis' pawnshop number nine."

Alex herself seemed at ease and totally calm. She joined in the boisterous drinking song, seeming to know the Abel Brown off by heart, partook in some hearty arm wrestles (a few of which she actually won), drunk a few beers and ale, was even persuaded to dance a couple of times and overall, appeared as if she was having a good time. But in the middle of her telling of a rude story between a hag, a noble duke and a pirate, her eyes took on a far-away look – as if she wasn't really there. Will knew the look well enough – he wore it often on nights such as these, when the company was drunk out of their skulls and it was pointless trying to pretend anything interesting was happening. But the next time he glanced up, her eyes were shining while the others whooped loudly at the punch-line of the anecdote.

Jack sat calmly at the bar, swaying slightly in his seat, until he pitched forward, passing out still seated on his barstool, his head resting in his tanned arms on the bar. The bartender shook his head, and addressed the man two seats down from Jack, who was cradling a large scar down his bandaged right arm.

"What happened to you, mate?" The bartender asked conversationally. Bartenders were bigger gossips than the whores that spread hearsays faster than they passed on the Trap.

The man groaned at the memory. "Ship-wrecked. Today's me f'rst day back in a decent bar, as it were." The bartender nodded in sympathy. That would explain why the lad had downed about 30 pints of beer in one hour.

"Did you know, we had a young shipwrecked lad in here nought past for days ago. Was 'e one o' yours?"

"Dunno." Replied the man in a tone that implied he didn't really care either. The bartender shot a glance at Jack, who happened to let loose an ear-rupturing snore at that exact moment. Satisfied Jack posed no harm, the bartender dropped his voice and continued.

"'Alf mad 'e wos, yabbering on abou' some wrench's that 'ad done in 'im and 'is ship. Killed or captured all of 'em but 'im or some-ant. 'E died but; soon aft 'e stepped through me doors. It weren't me fault," the bartender added defensively, "the lad 'ad been out in the bleeding snow-storm we 'ad last week. Stupid boy. Scared out of 'is wits 'e wos. I still dunno if 'e died from cold, or from shock."

"Ain't that somethin'." The scarred drunk replied disinterestedly. He was only concerned in tasting the golden brew that had been so long denied to him in his hour of finest need.

Shrugging, the bartender turned back to wiping over the bar, cleaning around Jack's inert figure. As soon as the bartender had passed him, Jack cracked open an alert and definitely sober eye. "Interesting…" He murmured to himself as his crew burst back into song behind him.

"She was chained and sent away from Liverpool one day,
The lads all cheered as she sailed down the bay,
And every sailor lad, he only was too glad
They'd sent that old whore out to Botany Bay."

Thanks again to my loyal reviewers – my reviews extend over a page now! I feel as though my life is complete; I've got over 20 reviews! dances the 'I've-got-over-20-reviews-dance' in one of those swivelly office chairs

Many thank again, especially to Lonaargh, Shadowicewolf and Pebbles1234, who review -seriously -every chapter.

Lonaargh, what are you talking about? Saying you can't write proper English – shame on you. Your last chapter of 'Catching up with the Past' made me cry. IT MADE ME CRY! uses pro-offered hanky (I'll get you a new hanky.)

Pebbles1234, you write the best reviews! They give me the biggest ego boost for the rest of the day! It's better than chocolate! Sorry if my writing style is a bit…strange (for lack of a better word). I get in trouble all the time for using too many commas instead of full-stops. "Stop abusing commas," I get told. "A sentence should not be three lines long."… Oops… ah well, as Jack says: 'sticks'n stones, luv.'

Shadowicewolf, the only reason my chapters are solong is because the concepts and storyline were already written by me several years ago. It was a really rough story, so I just tailored it to suit POTC (which is why there's no Elizabeth). That's the only reason:) Besides, it's quality that counts, not quality ;)