A/N: Look who's back! Why I believe it's that aborable Mlle.Fox! My how we have missed her! Okay, okay I know...but with a busted computer, a boring job with a lousy shift and little privacy using my Rents computer, fanfiction just wasn't happenin'. But now the computer fixed, I was inspired and my parents are wondering if I'm still alive in here! lol...So show me you forgive me by reading and reviewing. And I sure could use some fanart...hint hint nudge nudge...

peace, love and lipgloss,

Mlle.Fox

p.s. Oh! Almost forgot...planning a new POTC fic and I'm having an open casting call for characters! That's right insert yourself into the story of a young woman competing on a reality TV show where everyday folk become a pirate crew and the winner becomes Captain of the Black Pearl. See my profile for the rules.

Captain Leland Stottlemejer smelled the salt of the sea waft through the air as he, Randy and Smithy walked down the cobblestones under the antique street lights wired for electricity. A few flickered her and there as the wind picked up, blowing in an untimely chill for the time of year. Smithy stopped and pointed to a lit tavern, the windows golden and inviting,

"There she is. 'The Irritated Oyster". The number one spot for Genovian criminals, lowlifes and ne're-do-wells."

"How are we going to know who to talk to, Captain?" Randy asked.

"We don't. We'll just see what we can hear for a while. Then if nobody is talking about the break-ins and the murder, we ask discreetly for their opinion." the Captain replied.

"How discreet?" Randy asked.

"Oh Gee Randy I don't know...We'll ask them 'Hey! How 'bout them crimes going on at the palaces? Know anything 'bout it?'" Stottlemejer asked sarcastically. Randy shook his head,

"I don't think that's discreet Captain."

The Captain sighed throwing his hands up in the air and stalking towards the tavern. Smithy patted Randy's shoulder,

"Barely passed the Academy huh, Sherlock?"

Randy just glared at her and followed the Captain. The 'Irritated Oyster' was like something out of a movie. Smoky, wooden and ready to give you splinters. Over the bar hung a dirty mirror, the electric bulbs in the low red lamps flickering and ready to short out. They sat at one table and orders drinks that came in dirty glasses. A small black and white TV sat on the bar and the news was on. When the follow up story came up about the royal break ins, the three watched quietly and listened as nearly everyone had something to say about it.

"BAH! Just some snoopy paparazzi trying to get a piece o' dirt on the royal family!" scoffed one old timer waving the story off.

"A paparazzi who kills? Nah...not likely."

"Do they know why that guard was working the seaside palace when he was posted at the royal palace?"

"No, my guess he was trying to earn some extra money. He was nearing retirement you know."

"Really? That's a shame. To die just as you're about to retire."

"Did anyone hear if he has a widow? Maybe with a large pension fund left by her dearly departed husband?"

The conversation died as everyone returned to nursing their cheap beer, watered down ale and poor wine. Smithy sighed and muttered to her companions,

"Well that was helpful."

"I guess it's time to be discreet. I've been working on some conversation starters here that I think might work." Randy said flipping through his notepad.

"Let me get this straight...you wrote out and thought through what are suppose to be random, unrehearsed questions?" Smithy asked with a raised brow.

"Yeah." Randy asked simply.

"Okay..." Smithy said taking a sip of her bottled water.

"What?" Randy asked.

"Little hint Sherlock. That ain't discretion." Smithy smiled smugly at him.

"Oh and what would you ask?" Randy inquired annoyed.

"I don't know." she said.

"Then how do you know you'll be discreet?" Randy said.

"I don't." she stated.

"And that way is better than thinking it out?" Randy countered.

"No but it's better than writing it down where it can be found." Smithy said.

"I'm a writer...I think by writing!" Randy defended himself.

"Is that the only time you think? When you write?" Smithy asked.

"Now wait a minute..."Randy started. Captain Stottlemejer sighed and leaned back in his chair, deciding to let them just work it out by completely staying out of it. Besides, he needed to think anyway. He couldn't believe Sir Joseph's offer. Him? Leland Stottlemejer; Head of the Royal Genovian Security. It had a nice ring to it. But could he actually consider it? His marriage might have been on the rocks, but leave his boys for the chance of a lifetime? That he didn't think he could do. He put his hands behind his neck and looked up at the low ceiling that slanted down with the roof. All Stottlemejer had to do was put an arm up and his fingers could skim the cobwebs over him. Then Stottlemejer frowned when he noticed something craved into the wood. It was a name. A name that would have meant nothing to him three weeks ago, but tonight it meant the whole world.

'Cap. J. Sparrow'

"Holy shit..."the Captain muttered under his breath in shock.

"Captain do you think I have an odd shaped head?" Randy asked as if heartbroken while Smithy rolled his eyes. Captain Stottlemejer ignored his question, taking Randy's notebook from him and demanding,

"Give me your pencil."

"Uh...why?" Randy asked confused as the Captain stood slightly, putting the paper on the ceiling and rubbing a makeshift etching of the paper. The bartended noticed his odd behavior and got suspicious, coming round the bar and heading over.

"Cap'n what is it?" Smithy asked.

"That S.O.B...that S.O.B!" Stottlemejer smiled shaking his head when he found a date too.

"What? Cap'n What?!" Smithy exclaimed her curiosity killing her. Stottlemejer chuckled and sat once more, telling them,

"Cap. J. Sparrow...1679!"

"Captain Sparrow? He was here?" Randy asked.

"He had to be. That Mother Lovin' S.O.B sat in this very spot, bored out of his skull and craved this with a knife or his cutlass or whatever! He could have used his dinner fork for all we know but that's not important..." the Captain told them.

"He used his butter knife?" Randy asked.

"Stay with us Sherlock." Smithy quipped.

"Look at the date again." Stottlemejer hinted.

"1679? What about it?" Smithy asked as Randy's eyes twinkled with memory. He took back the notebook, flipped to an early page and exclaimed,

"Mignonette met Jack in the year 1678...This carving means he was here a year later!"

"Which confirms what we already guessed...that Jack and Minnie had something going long after the Pearl left Genovia." the Captain explained.

"So how does that help us with the case?" Smithy asked.

"This is gonna help us be discreet..." the Captain said noticing the approaching bartended.

"'Ey! You ain't markin' up my ceiling are ya?" he asked gruffly.

"Like it's gonna ruin the decor..."Smithy joked as Randy kicked her under the table. "Ow!" she cried glaring at him. The Captain smiled and flipped back to the etching,

"Actually, I just noticed this cool craving on the ceiling. Ever seen it before?"

The bartender looked skeptically at the etching then smiled with exclamation,

"Well strap me down and kiss my fanny! You mean to tell me the Pirate King hisself sat down and had a pint in MY pub?"

"The Pirate King?" Stottlemejer asked.

"Yeah s'right! Captain Jack Sparrow is a legend round Genovia's lower classes. Me mum told me his adventures before tucking me in every night before she had to go to work at the peep show. They say...he had himself buried with his ship, The Black Pearl. And whoever finds the ship also finds his lost treasure." the barkeep told them.

"Treasure?" asked Randy, his interest piqued.

"Yeah...see...first he was a pirate mainly in the Caribbean, but when piracy started to die out over there, he set up port near Genovia, supposedly in one of the small islands that dot the coastline. And the way I heard it from Mum, was that 'cause of the ideal location of being betwixt France and Italy, Ol' Captain Jack made a nice sum of money by raiding ships sailing out from France, Italy, but especially the Spanish! And legend has it...that treasure is with him. Wow! I'm going to get myself a piece of paper and make a mark of that carving. Ha! Captain Jack Sparrow drank here! That's what the plague will say all right!" the barkeep said before running off to the back. Smithy gave a smug smile at the Captain,

"Ya'll thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?"

"Yup. Time to go back and tell Monk!" the Captain said standing, leaving a very large tip on the table. After all it was the least he could do since the helpful barkeep gave them a large tip of their own.

The Royals had just turned in for the evening. It was late and only a few maids and palace guards were wide awake. Well them and one obsessive compulsive detective who was busy in his suite dusting his room.

"Monk! Monk!" Stottlemejer said bursting into the room. Adrian nearly fell from the chair he stood on.

"Jeeze! Captain! You nearly gave me a heart attack!" Monk exclaimed clutching his chest. Smithy frowned,

"What for the love of Colonel Sanders are ya'll doin' up there?"

"I always dust before bed." Monk said as if it were no big thing.

"Oh...course." Smithy nodded and shrugged. Stottlemejer smiled and told his old friend,

"Monk, you are not going to believe what we found out..."

He spent the next few minutes recounting the tale, finishing with a flourish by showing Monk the etching.

"Of course..."Monk said walking off to the side a bit. "A man wouldn't kill just to expose a secret...The Brotherhood Verse said that the Sparrow was buried with secret loot! Whoever broke into the palaces and killed Guttisepi was trying to find that treasure!"

"That's what we thought. But the killer must have known the Verse said that stuff beforehand!" Randy said.

"Which means the Killer...had another source...tell him about the treasure and that the Brotherhood Verse contained clues to that treasure. The Verse just doesn't reveal a secret...it's a treasure map..."Monk said.

"Wait a hot second, if we find out where the killer found out about the Verse saying stuff about the treasure, we might be able to figure out who he is!" Smithy declared.

"Smithy...can you wake the Prime Minister and tell him we need to start looking through those documents belonging to the Brotherhood right away?" Monk asked.

"Sure thang." she said nodding and walking out of the room.

"Monk...You don't think it's an inside job do you? That someone within the Brotherhood could have done it?" Stottlemejer asked. Monk shrugged and walked over to the table where he kept Mignonette's diary,

"Most of them are the decedents of pirates...Besides, those documents are the only other place that could have even mentioned the treasure or the verse or both."

"What are you going to look for now?" Randy asked as Monk opened the diary. Monk answered simply and cryptically,

"I'll know it when I see it..."

"May 12, the Year of Our Lord 1678. I have been aboard the Pearl near three weeks now, and I have not spoken to Ja...er...Captain Sparrow except in brief conversation. I try to stay formal, but the man merely has to look at me with those brown gems he calls his eyes and I remember with mortification to my soul, uncomfortable desire to my core and a hint of curiosity and confusion that night in his cabin. I have since decided it wasn't the best plan in the world to seduce Captain Sparrow. I am also having second thoughts about the sword lessons Will Turner is giving me between watches..."