Disclaimer: No, I do not own "Pirates of the Caribbean". As much as I'd love to, I do not.

A/N: Thanks as always to La Flamingo. :)

Chapter 2

It was a quiet day at the Black Pearl; the waves steadily rolling in rhythm. Today everyone was lazy, hardly doing anything but playing chess and drinking whiskey. The ship had not been going anywhere in particular; it was just setting there, swaying along with tired ocean. It was a perfect day for sword practice.

Thirteen year old Jane Sparrow's brown curly hair whipped at her face as she swung out powerfully with a small rapier (for, even as tall as she was, could not handle father's swords just yet) and pegged down the left sleeve of a man to the wooden planks of the cabin door. The rapier, the sleeve, and the wrist attached to the sleeve hit the heavy oak with an audible thud. "Is that how you do it?" she asked, nearly breathless. Her ocean-sized turquoise eyes gleamed as she bit her crimson lips in excitement. As she set her hands on her tattered loose brown dress, Jane began to take a step forward, taking care in not tripping over her frayed shoelaces, which belonged to a near-to-death pair of leather boots.

The man, who happened to be Captain Jack Sparrow, smiled at his daughter, saying, "You're doing perfect. You know, Jane, I think you're going to be the best, most feared pirate in all the Caribbean." he tried pulling the sword out, but found it almost impossible.

Jane's face sparkled, completely ignoring the stuck sword. Then, she paused and thought about it a moment, looking up at her father with a glint in her eye, as if she was not sure if he meant it or not. "Really?"

The captain yanked the sword out with a little bit of difficulty, using all his strength he had left. After dusting his shirt off where he had been pinned, Jack Sparrow carefully handed the weapon to his daughter. He then laid his tanned hand on her shoulder. "Yes, really."

"Ahoy!" Crimp, on the lookout, yelled for attention. He closed his looking glass; eyes bulging with fear. "To the starboard side! It's the British navy!"

Jack's head swiveled to his left; this was the last thing he needed.

Suddenly, there was a large explosion. Realizing that an enemy ship had begun shooting at them and that the Navy meant for a possible battle, Jack began roaring out orders. He made sure that he still possessed his gun before he realized who was head of the enemy's ship—Admiral James Norrington.

Armed with deadly muskets the Navy began a little war between them and the Black Pearl. Oddly, in the midst of them as well, was a fourteen-year-old boy, reluctantly running along with everyone else.

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Jane, whose rapier wavered in her unsteady hand, stood upright and lifeless as the commotion began. This was out of her league, she thought. She was anything but used to this sort of action. If they were pirates, then she would be. She was one her self. But the British navy? Definitely not. This was not just another raid. These men were prepared. These men were ready to do anything necessary to make the Black Pearl surrender.

For some unexplainable reason, she noticed a boy among the soldiers. His dark blonde hair was falling out of his bow, and his eyes seemed as if they were looking nowhere. His face was dirty; his clothes were tattered and torn. He must have been fourteen years old. To herself, Jane admitted he was remarkably handsome, but of course, she did not know the difference – she had never seen anyone around her age, no less one of the opposite gender. She could not tell what he was trying to accomplish; he kept running this way and that, ducking from sight then popping back up again.

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"What did I do, what did I do?" John Turner was mentally kicking himself as he tried to hide from the soldiers, which was rather easy – to them he was just as good as invisible. This is what you wanted, right? To see real pirates? To live your life as a sailor? he asked himself. His conscience was telling him something else, though, and he desperately wanted to know it was wrong. He had snuck aboard Admiral Norrington's ship, lived in a small covered boat, and ate what he could steal from the kitchen, just so he could know what living aboard a deck was like–and make his parents feel miserable. How foolish, his conscience told him. Now his parents were probably worrying about him as well and angry, not knowing where he was. How foolish! He mentally kicked himself again. "Stupid, Stupid Turner!" he was now beginning to miss home, miss his parents, his little brother…

Suddenly John shook from his self-pity. His eyes gazed upon a thirteen-year-old girl who looked strangely familiar. She fought fiercely, but he could tell at the same time she was scared. He saw the shock in face as she plunged her rapier into one of her enemy's bodies; she stared for a minute before a middle-aged man in rather uncanny attire and look grabbed her attention.

John's hazel eyes froze as the flash of black whipped into his line of sight, making his heart leap with a sense of an unknown excitement. He found himself inching closer to take a better look of the mysterious man, studying his garb a little closer. That little black flash was indeed the pirate's long, braided hair, held back by a red bandanna. That strange accessory attached to it on struck John curiously. Though almost all pirates did indeed wear bandannas--or so he thought--the blood red color of this one, and its attachment to the raggedy black mane seemed more...legendary. Yet he did not know why.

The boy leaped backwards in an almost involuntary move, drawing in short, swift breaths through his nose. The red-bandanna pirate was barely thirty feet away from him, panning out the new enemy ship he was standing on. Thankfully, for John, though, he was not in the line of sight of the man, but he was still able to see him if he just inched his head a little to the side…

The man targeted a private who had no idea of what was to become of him. He took no notice of the John in the near distance; instead, he pursued fighting with his black-lined eyes and odd way of... going about things. He pulled out his old-fashioned gun and fired it, his gigantic ruffled sleeve swishing about.

Wait a minute—a ruffled sleeve? It was official, then. This man was crazy. No, insane. An ordinary pirate would hardly ever wear a ruff—

Of course! When the identity of the eccentric character dawned on John, his mouth flung open and his eyes turned as large as royalty's medallions. That man—that man with that black eyeliner—

That man was the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow.

No, not possible! Not probable! John protested his knowledge. Sparrow–the one he had thought was only a myth... a legend, but not real.

"Get out of my way, boy!" one of the Navy officers growled at the boy, grabbing John's ripped shirt and shoving him out of the way. Abruptly the man stopped. "Boy?" he swirled around on his heel, facing him. "T… Turner? Jonathan Turner! What in blazes are you doing here?"

John, still trying to believe that Sparrow was even plausibly real, stood already at attention, with eyes wide and mouth barely closed. He was not truly thinking about replying right now—he was to busy staring into the Admiral's eyes, which were staring at him all the same.

Admiral Norrington was dumfounded. Here was Will and Elizabeth Turner's son Jonathan, who he had only seen a few times since he was born, standing right in front of him. It was especially awkward since Elizabeth was his ex-fiancé. However, what was Jonathan doing there in the first place? Surely the boy's parents would have given him some sort of notice. Then it finally struck him—the boy had snuck aboard.

Great, Norrington thought and frowned. Now he had a huge dilemma. There Jack was, out numbered and on the ship (an easy possible capture), and there John was, a runaway who now he felt he was responsible for. He growled in frustration as he told John, "Stay put, and don't get yourself into trouble!"

John nodded instantly, for he knew that right now was not the time to be getting into more trouble than he already was. At the same time the Admiral's words simply went in one ear and out the other, for his own thoughts instantly drew back again to Jack, whom Norrington had already confronted.

All the commotion abruptly stopped. "Jack, Jack, Jack." Norrington addressed slowly to his prisoner, making sure he was loud enough for everyone to hear. He held his chest high, holding his hand behind his back, gazing proudly down at the pirate.

Jack's crew had all ready been cornered and chained, but the Navy had missed one. Jane had hidden down in the rusted prisoner holding, where she had many years ago found the perfect hole for peering out.

"Never thought I'd see you again, especially after all these years. Honestly, I thought you'd be dead by now, rotting at the bottom of the sea somewhere." The Admiral gave a haughty smirk, walking slowly back and forth, stopping every now and then to face his enemy.

"We all have our own disappointments in life, mate—and I'm honored to be one of yours." Jack Sparrow grinned cheekily at the annoyed Norrington. Jack—One, Norrington—None.

Jane, still listening to the conversation, giggled at her father's remark, but instantly stopped when she heard the Navy officer continue. "Well, Jack. As always, I have my duty to the King--"

"Oh, by the way, how are Mr. and Mrs. Turner?" Jack interrupted, searching, and searching with ease, to distract from the subject. Norrington's men crowed behind and beside him, staring at him or confining Jack's crew. Jane... where is she? He wondered frantically, though he hid his distraught well. Maybe she hid. Yes, that's my Jane.

John's face blanked. How does he know Mother and Father?

"They're fine—" the Navy officer replied.

"Ah, that's good, that's good…" Jack muttered, his brown beady eyes staring at the pestered Admiral.

"Yes. Now, Mr. Sparrow, if you would be so obliged to let me continue..." Norrington cleared his throat, but he once more stood cut short.

"You know, Norrington, you look mighty… older than when I last saw you. I guess the Caribbean just isn't your thing, eh?"

The British man had had enough of this. He glared down at his prisoner, continuing as though he had never been cut off in the first place. "As my duty to the king, I am to bring you back to Port Royale, where you can get your proper punishment—with no interruptions this time."

Everyone knew exactly what this meant. Jack was to be executed.

Well, there it is! Please review and feel free to give me any C&C you think necessary! –Ancient Egyptian Dreams