Disclaimer: Sadly, I must say that all characters and objects pertaining to the movie Pirates of the Caribbean are property of Disney and not my own. Even though I would love to own Jack Sparrow, sadly I don't. All other characters and objects are of my own creation.

Author's Note : Thank you so much to WenchesHaveMoreFun and SparrowsVixon for your reviews and support. I'm so excited about this fic and I'm pleased at how much this story is already coming along. Now, on with the chaotic mass of Sparrowness! Hope you enjoy and please continue to comment!

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Chapter three

"And people think I'm the crazy one.." "I'm not crazy!"

Rachel groaned as she stirred, shielding her eyes from the light that flooded the room. She sat up slowly, feeling skin around some of her wounds tighten and rip. Giving herself a moment to get her bearings, she swung her legs over the bed and tried to stand but her knees buckled sending her straight to the floor. Hot tears stung her dried skin as pain shot throughout her entire body and her vision blurred. From her left, she heard what seem to be heavy footsteps and a door opening then closing again. Before she could even look towards the noise, two strong arms gently lifted her into the air and back onto the soft padding of the bunk.

"I leave ya fer one moment and yer already causin' me grief." the man mumbled under his breath as he pressed a bottle of amber liquid to her lips.

Rachel gagged, coughing and cursing as the drink burned her parched throat. He chuckled and retreated back to the door, hollering for two men to join him in the room.

"Where am I?" Rachel whispered hoarsely as she turned on her side to look at the strange man.

A glimmer of gold sparkled from his toothy grin as he came and stood next to the bunk, pushing her shoulders gently back towards the bed.

"Yer on me ship, luv." the man turned as two men, much older looking, came rushing through the door. One of the men smiled warmly, moving his hands in small gestures before he patted Rachel on the shoulder and pointed towards the wall behind her. "This is Mr. Cotton. He's the one who fixed yer up and he wants ter check yer wounds, lass. Roll over."

Rachel hesitated for a moment, staring at the strange men but as her looked upon the younger of the three, a wave of easy passed over her. She nodded and with their help she was able to turn onto her stomach. Mr. Cotton smiled reassuringly as he dabbed a wound with a lemon scented ointment. Rachel yelped in pain as the stuff burned profusely and then as quick as the pain struck, it lifted.

"A word with ye, Jack?" the other man, stepping toward the large window at the back of the room. "Jack. The crew is getting' restless with this woman aboard. They've requested a... meetin', as it were."

"A meetin'." Jack repeated questionably.

"Aye, a meetin'." the other confirmed.

Jack turned back slightly at the strange woman who now sat in his bed thanking Mr. Cotton for his help, her tanned body covered only by the sheet.

"Tell the crew I'll address said issue in the morrow. Until then, Mr. Gibbs, I'll see what I can do about findin' where the wench came from. Savvy? And I'm not ter be disturbed."

Mr. Gibbs nodded, and left the captain and the woman alone in the dimly lit cabin followed closely by Mr. Cotton who closed the door once again.

"I'm Rachel..." the woman's weak voice floated out over the soft creaking of the ship.

Jack turned and strutted in a drunken manner towards her. He stopped for a moment, staring at her form in the blue moonlight. Her hair glowed a dull red and fell free down to her waist, covering what parts of her chest the sheet did not. If the sight of the woman naked in the moonlight sitting alone in his bed wasn't enough, her eyes changed everything. Even in the soft light he could see the bright sparks of red that dotted the brown shades in her irises almost like a nightingale's tail feathers.

"Did you hear me?" her voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Captain Jack Sparrow, captain of this ship.. the Black Pearl." he claimed somewhat quietly, his right hand in the air dangling the bottle he had made her drink from with just two fingers and thumb. He strutted towards her once more and plopped down in a chair that sat near a desk. Leisurely, Jack kicked his boot clad feet up on the desk, crossing them at the ankles.

"How...how long have I been asleep?" Rachel whispered, watching the man before her down almost the entire bottle at once.

She couldn't help but stare at him. He reminded her of men she had seen dressed up at the pirate festivals she'd attend back home to help promote the museum she worked at. His boots, the pants even the shirt and jacket looked perfectly authentic and on this man, it was breath taking. With his goatee braided into two links with a bead on the end of each one and his hair in the dark brown locks and bead plaited links and dull red bandanna fixed perfectly upon his brow, he fit the perfect picture of a pirate. Her eyes met his deep chocolate brown eyes and for an instant she had forgotten how to breath. Her heart raised like a school girls would after passing her crush in the hallway.

'Oh my god! Snap out of it you stupid idiot! We both know you love pirates, hell you work at a pirate museum for Pete's sake. This guy is nothing but an impersonator of some dreamy romanticized scoundrel from the 17th century.' She argued inwardly. But somehow, deep in her gut, she knew this man was different, far different than any man she had ever known or ever will know.

"Well, Miss Rachel. It has been near 5 days. At least since we found ye on the island." he sipped a bit more of the amber liquid, licking off what small droplets remained on his lips. "Mind explain ter me who you ended up on me island?"

"I was on a plane flying to Port Royal to met with my finance, when it..." suddenly the images of the crash and the men who died flooded her. Tears escaped and flowed freely down her face as she tried to continue to tell her tale. "it...it crashed in the sea and I...I was the only one left... I was able to get out and when I saw..when I saw the island I just started swimming... I didn't know it was yours..." she cursed herself for sounding like such a child. Jack sat, a puzzled expression on his face.

"You were flying..in a plane?" Rachel looked up at him confused.

"Yes, why is that so strange? People fly all the time." Without thinking, Jack laughed. The thought of people flying. Now that was a sight he wished to see.

"Please do explain ter me what a 'plane' is." Rachel was upset.

"Just because you're dressed as a bloody 17th century pirate doesn't mean you have to act like a total idiot!" Jack just stared at her, his expression a mixture of confusion and delight. "Alright. Alright, I'll play along. A plane is like a ship but made out of thin metal that can fly in the air and cover great distances in short periods of time." She boasted in a matter-of-fact tone of voice.

"And people think I'm the crazy one.." he muttered a bit louder than he intended.

"I'm not crazy!" Rachel yelped.

'This man is so infuriating! He's in costume, has an injured woman in his bed, and all he wants to do is play stupid pirate!'

"You really expect me ter believe that people can.. fly.. in air borne ships made entirely of metal?" Just as the last word left his mouth, a book from the shelf above his bunk slammed into his face, sending him backwards to the floor. "Bloody hell you wicked minx! Why in the blazes did you do the for?!" As he stood, Rachel was standing not but a foot from him, her face hard with anger.

"Stop pretending. You know its true for crying out loud. This is 2007 not 16-something." Jack stopped rubbing his head where the book had hit him and stared at her, mouth gapping.

"Two...Two thousand seven? As in the year 2007?" Rachel nodded sarcastically at him. "where in blazes did you come from, you minx...because this is 16-something. 1687 to be exact." He pushed past her, grabbing another bottle off his desk and left the cabin, the door slamming behind him.

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Rachel sank to the floor after what seemed like an eternity of watching the closed door Jack had exited the room from. She felt so helpless as a strange idea had come to her mind.

'Could I have...? No! Its impossible. Rachel McKree you are not a superstitious person.' But as she looked around at the furniture and the books and the parchments that cluttered the room, she knew something out of the ordinary had happened to her. A large wardrobe caught her eye. She had seen it before but..

'No. It couldn't be...' Slowly she stood once more and went to it, running her fingers along the beautiful carvings in the mahogany wood. Then she saw it, a sparrow flying over the setting sun. 'I can't believe it...its him..' His name flooded her mind, followed quickly by everything she knew about him.

Captain Jack Sparrow, Pirate Lord of the Caribbean sea. Hung July 7, 1692 by Governor James Norrington on the morning of the earthquake that sent two-thirds of Port Royal to the depths. Known best for eluding the East India Trading Company and sacking Nassau Port on more than one occasion without firing a single shot. Rumors circulated during his life that he battle Davy Jone's himself, fought in an epic battle with 8 other pirate lords, had some how been cursed as an 'undead', eaten by the mythical Kraken. The greatest mystery surrounding Jack Sparrow is his capture. The most popular rumor being that he had lost his lover and in deep unrelenting sorrow, he turned himself in at Port Royal.

"I must be out of my freakin' mind to believe that this is really happening..." she muttered and opened the door to the wardrobe. Stepping back a moment, she took in what stood before her. Beautiful 17th century gowns and simple peasant work dresses hung on wires. In the drawers, she found several pair of men's slacks and white shirts.

"Find something ya like, luv?" Jack's voice whispered in her ear causing her to jump. He reached passed her, pulling a white tunic off the wire and handed it to her along with a pair of small men's slacks. "Put these on, lass."

"Why?" she looked at him puzzled. "Where are the clothes I had on?" Jack pointed to the bundle of material on the floor next to the bunk. Even from where she stood, she could see that her own clothes would be more revealing than the sheet would be.

"Quickly now. Even though I would love to see you parading about me cabin in nothing but that sheet, I'd rather not risk the chance of my men seeing you in this state." he explained with a devious glint in his eye as he gently tugged her by the arm towards the bunk and pulled two deep red velvet curtains together, closing her in for some privacy while she changed.

To her the pants and shirt were the only things she'd seen in the room that looked normal. The shirt was made with a thin white cotton material, long sleeved, with a decently rounded low cut neck line and went slightly above mid-thigh with a slit on each side starting at the top of her hip downward. The slacks fit her perfectly in the hips, showing off her shapely bottom and went in length down to the middle of her calves.

Slowly she stepped out from the curtains and stood before Jack, expecting scrutiny of her appearance and her reaction towards him earlier.

"Look, about how I reac-" he cut her off by putting a single finger on her lips.

"Sit and eat and we'll talk afterwards." As if on cue, her stomach rumbled in hunger. She followed Jack to the table in the middle of the large room. Under Jack's watchful eye, she ate slowly, her mind racing over everything.

"Jack.." she stated quietly as she sat down what was left of a piece of bread. Jack waved her to continue as he downed more rum. "I want you to be honest with me. No games, no tricks, no costumes or fairy tales. I really need to know the date." He set the bottle down on the table and stared at her, smiling inwardly at the fairy tale part.

"Today is the 20th of May... 1687.."

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