Jack stared into his drink. Branded a pirate, he might as well become a pirate. But how did one do that? Self-consciously he rubbed the rag he had tied around his wrist, hiding the reddened mark he did not deserve. The "P" was forever etched into his skin and his soul. Rage coursed through him as he thought of the man responsible for the mark. Beckett. He pounded his fist against the table in fury.

"Having a bit of a bad day?"

The voice startled him. Jack looked up at a man who definitely embodied everything he had ever learned of pirates during his time with the company. The man standing there was tall, his reddish brown hair straggly and long. His face gave evidence of the harsh life he lived. A large black hat, and flashy clothes bespoke his profession. Here indeed was a true pirate.

"I suppose one could say that," Jack replied, curious why the man stood here.

"Care if I join ye?" Barbossa waved his arm around the now crowded tavern.

Jack had lost all track of time. The place had filled with all manner of people, and snippets of conversations in other languages added to the confusion he was now feeling. How long had he been sitting here? He glanced at the bottle, still full. . "I see no reason why you may not. My name is Jack Sparrow, and you are?" Jack still was hesitant. Why did this man want to sit here?

"Captain Hector Barbossa," the tall man bowed his head ever so slightly, then pulled the empty bench out and slowly lowered himself onto it. Setting his own bottle on the table between them he studied Jack. Finally he spoke. "So, what brings you to Rio?"

"Business," A curt response, but what else did one say to a pirate? For indeed, this man must be a pirate if one judged by his manner of dress.

"Aye, but what business?" Barbossa pursued the topic.

"I am in need of a crew," Jack blurted his need out suddenly. "At the moment. To sail to Tortuga. And you?"

"A crew?" Now Barbossa was indeed curious. He ignored Jack's question. "How did ye get here if ye didn't have a crew?"

"I had a crew, they only signed on to sail here. Now I find myself in need of a new crew," Jack took a quick glance around the tavern then picked up his mug and took a long drink. He was beginning to like this rum. He felt a warmth begin to spread through him, relaxing him. Here he was, in a tavern in Rio talking to a pirate. A year ago he would never have imagined this event.

Barbossa refilled both mugs. "And what be the name of your ship?"

"The Wic…" Jack stopped himself abruptly. The Wicked Wench had been sunk to the depths of the Indian Ocean. She no longer existed. He had been so proud of her, his first ship, one he had purchased through his earnings with the John Company. She had enabled him to pick and choose his cargo, no longer at the whim of his employer. Yet Beckett had taken it upon himself, in his anger at Jack's refusal to transport those slaves, to burn and sink her. Desperate, Jack had made a pact with the very devil himself – Davy Jones. The ship had been raised, a small crew found, and thus he found himself halfway around the world, far from the East India Trading Company's territory with a ship with a blackened hull. He groped for a name.

Black, her hull was charcoal black. "The Black…" Jack hesitated.

The Black what? Sea Turtle? He recalled the sight of his first sea turtle. No that would hardly strike fear into the hearts of men, for pirate he must be, branded as he was. How he had arrived at that decision he did not know, but it seemed right. Talking here with this man who was clearly a pirate. But he would be a pirate too! Had he not just decided that? And a pirate ship deserved a good name.

"Well?" Hector prodded him. He had been studying this man's expressions and it was clear he had come to some important decision within himself.

"Oh, right. The Black…"

"Ye said that already. Be she called just the Black?" Barbossa mocked him.

Black what? Diamond? Gold? Suddenly a vision of his last party in India, a woman dancing with a strand of the finest pearls around her neck. That was it! "The Black Pearl," even as he spoke the name, he felt an energy flow through him. The name felt right. He sighed in satisfaction. "Yes, that's it. The Black Pearl." He settled back in his chair, never realizing he had been sitting on the edge the past few moments.

Barbossa looked curiously at him, then poured them both a generous drink from the bottle. "Never knew a name to be that much trouble to remember," He drank deeply.

Jack simply shook his head. For some reason, he felt it necessary to keep the story to himself. "Sorry."

"Sorry?" Barbossa was finding this man fascinating. He seemed lost in some way. "No need to apologize to me. Now we have established the name of your ship and the fact that you are in need of a crew to sail to Tortuga. For what purpose?"

"Well, to get a crew I suppose. Although I would imagine if I find one here I shan't need to go to Tortuga then, will I?" Jack still couldn't get over it. Here he sat with a pirate conversing over trivial things. Well, maybe not so trivial as a crew was essential, but like they were friends. He picked up his tankard and drank. He was finding he liked this rum.

"Yes, to get a crew. And then what?" Persistent for some reason Barbossa felt a need to discover this man's true purpose.

"I suppose to…" Jack leaned back and looked around, as if to make sure no one was listening. Satisfied, he moved closer to Barbossa. "I have a plan," He did not really, but wasn't that what pirates did? Keep secrets or pretend they did? Hunt for treasure? He found this game was fun. He might like being pirate after all. Perhaps instead of shooting Beckett he might thank him.

"A plan, eh?" Barbossa frowned. Maybe he had misjudged this man.

"Aye, a plan," Suddenly Jack did not want to tell any more, primarily because he did not know any more. He suddenly realized he did not even know this man's name. His mouth twitched. How did one ask a pirate his name? Was it the same as in polite society? "You know the name of my ship, but I fear I do not know your name."

"Nor I yours," Barbossa countered with a wicked smile.

"True," Jack considered this. Realizing that the fact that no one really knew him down here might prove beneficial after all he blurted out his real name. "Jack. Jack Sparrow, rather Captain Jack Sparrow."

"Captain Jack Sparrow. Can't say as I have ever heard of you before. And I be Hector Barbossa. Captain Barbossa as it were," Though he had need of a ship, he still chose to go by the title. Maybe… a thought sparked in his mind. This man had a ship. Mayhap he might be able to find a way to commandeer it. A few more drinks, find out what his ship was like. He glanced back at his crew; they weren't too drunk yet, though that might pose a problem. He would take that hurdle when it came. For now, he needed more information. If the ship was as bad as that one they'd come in on, it might not be worth the effort.

"So, tell me about your ship," Barbossa quickly refilled their drinks.

"Ah yes," A serene look came upon Jack's face as he thought of his ship. He loved that ship like a woman. "She's a fine ship, fast. Fastest ship in the Caribbean I'll wager."

"But you need a crew," Barbossa lifted his drink encouraging Jack to do the same.

The wench who had brought his first drink appeared at their table. "More rum?" Even as she asked, a bottle was set upon the table with a sultry look at Jack.

This time he smiled back. "Ah, yes luv. More rum. Stuff grows on you."

"Aye, 'at it do," She managed to brush up against him as she picked up the empty bottle.

Barbossa chuckled as he watched her depart, her hips swaying enticingly. "Looks like ye have an engagement for tonight, mate."

"Well…" Jack grinned, his eyes following her as well. "She is rather lovely," Changing the topic. "So, tell me about yourself. Have you sailed these waters long?"

"Long enough. Here's to fine women and fast ships," Barbossa lifted his mug in a toast.

"Excellent choices. So, you're a pirate." There, he'd said it!

A laugh erupted from the man. "One might say that."

"And your ship?" Jack decided to pursue this avenue even though Barbossa was being rather reticent on the subject.

"Ah, yes. My ship. Well, she ran aground off the coast of Venezuela thirty days back. Foul weather," Barbossa snarled as he recalled that series of events.

"So you are in need of a ship too." An idea suddenly occurred to Jack. "Perhaps you would like to join my crew?"

"Join your crew?" Barbossa roared with laughter. "Now why should I want to do that?"

Taken slightly aback, Jack considered. "Well, I have a ship and need a crew. You clearly have no ship so it would make sense. Does it not?"

Taking refuge in his drink, Barbossa considered the offer. "Sorry Jack. I need a ship. Why would I want to take orders from you?"

"Because I have the fastest ship in the Caribbean and I intend to be the finest pirate in the Spanish Main," The drink was making him bolder, as he pounded his tankard down on the table splashing rum. "Sor…" he stopped himself and simply poured more rum.

"Right," Barbossa waved for another bottle. "And how do you plan to do that with no crew?"

"I shall find a crew if you will not join me. Cannot be too difficult, now will it?" Forgetting the trouble he had been having so far.

"Let's say I do decide to join you. What's in it for me?" Barbossa challenged him, his eyes glinting as he figured Jack wouldn't have an answer for that one.

Rising to the challenge, Jack countered, "Well, I do believe that we can come to some arrangement. Fifteen percent, perhaps."

The 'perhaps' did it, Jack was no pirate, at least not one with much experience. "Fifty," Barbossa fired back.

"Why would I give you fifty?" Jack questioned. I have the ship.

"And I have a full crew," Barbossa waved his arm over to several tables containing his crew. He then thought of those they'd lost. "Well, almost a full crew. Could stand to add some I suppose."

"But I have the ship." Insistent, Jack frowned.

"Granted, but fifty is the lowest we can go. That is for me, my crew each gets their share."

"Well, I do agree they ought to get their share, but I cannot go above thirty percent for the lot of you," He had to make some profit or it wasn't worth it. Although he had to admit that the very fact he had his ship was sufficient, he wasn't about to let this pirate know that.

"Fifty for me, thirty for me crew then," Barbossa countered as he reached out and refilled their mugs.

"That would make only twenty for me," How had it gotten to this point Jack wondered. Now he was bargaining with a pirate over shares. He drank more rum as he considered this. "If I were to give you all eighty percent, not enough in it for me. Perhaps I shall continue to look."

"An' where would ye be expecting to find a crew in this place? Almost a full crew no less," A new bottle had just been set by his elbow. "Ah, more rum, good."

"Yes, the rum IS good. Cannot say I've had better."

"So, we've an accord then. Fifty for me, thirty for my boys?"

"No, I never said that. You said that. I only agreed that…" What had he agreed to? His mind was getting a bit fuzzy from the rum. "Forty for all of you. You split it as you decide best."

"Forty eh?" Barbossa considered this. "Forty for me it is. Now the crew… they still get thirty, agreed?"

"You may give them thirty of your share, that is entirely your choice," Jack sat back in his chair, not realizing he had been leaning forward as the bargaining had gone on.

"No, I agreed to forty for me," Barbossa finished his drink and poured them both another round. "Besides, how do I know you are capable of finding us a prize? Let alone able to command a crew?" He issued the challenge even as he waved for another bottle of rum.

"I am more than capable of commanding a ship," Jack's nose wrinkled up as he felt slighted by that comment.

"Aye, but I can't say as I've heard of ye," Barbossa's head cocked to one side as he spoke, watching Jack closely to see how he responded.

"Been working for… ." Jack stopped. He couldn't admit to working for the East India Company, not if he were supposedly a pirate. His fingers went automatically to the rag covering the brand and touched it lightly.

Barbossa noted the movement and the hesitation. "Working for?" He looked archly at Jack.

"I meant I have been successfully transporting goods from the John Company," Jack felt fairly certain the nickname for EITC would have traveled this far. "For my own purposes of course," A half-truth, as he had been employed by them, not stealing from them. But it served his purposes to claim otherwise if he were to convince Barbossa he was indeed a pirate.

That statement startled Barbossa. He had not expected that. He drank deeply to cover his reaction. "Ah, THE company. Successful?"

"Well, I had to leave the area. That is why I am here," This was the truth. He had needed to vacate the waters the company was found in. That he implied he was wanted for piracy was entirely made up, but it fit with his story.

Barbossa considered his options. At first he had thought to simply discover which ship belonged to Jack and make off with it during the night. Now he wondered if he might be better served to pretend to join his crew and at the opportune moment lead a mutiny against him, maroon him and take off with the ship. Clearly the man wouldn't survive long on a deserted isle whereas if he followed his first thoughts, the man might chase after him. It sounded promising.

Another course of action came to mind and Barbossa grinned wickedly. Of course! If he gave him a task, something Jack would be bound to be caught at, that would leave him free and clear to simply make off with the ship. But what task? His mind whirled as he considered where they were and he hit upon the very thing.

"My crew," Barbossa spoke up again. "They won't be inclined to follow under your command, being as to how they haven't heard of ye."

"Oh," Jack had not considered that to even be a problem. "But they will listen to you."

"Aye, but I am not the captain."

"No, I am." Perplexed at this turn of events, Jack sighed deeply. "What can we do?"

Barbossa pretended to consider the problem. "More rum," He refilled Jack's mug as well as his own as he continued to 'think'. Finally, he spoke up. "I have it. You shall simply prove how good a pirate you are!"

"Splendid!" Happy to have a solution, Jack lifted his mug up to toast. Then paused. "But how can I do that without a crew."

"Simple," Barbossa leaned over the table and lowered his voice. "Steal something."

"Oh, I believe that should not pose…"

Barbossa interrupted him. "Not just anything. But something treasured. This town we be in. They have a sacred relic they keep at the church," He looked over his shoulders to make sure no one was listening in to their conversation. Even though the tavern was now crowded, for some reason there was a wide space between the pair and their nearest neighbors. "The cross of Saint Sebastian, patron saint of this godforsaken hole. Steal that! That will prove without doubt, that you are a real pirate and my crew will follow you to the ends of the earth."

Jack grinned. "That is it? I shall bring it back here in two days. But…" He waggled a finger at Barbossa. "That changes the agreement. Forty percent. Forty percent for you AND your crew."

"Done. Ye have until this time two days from now to bring back the relic. Do we have an accord?" Barbossa held out his hand to seal the deal, doubting that Jack could indeed produce the relic.

Jack reached across the table and grasped it firmly. "Aye!" Rising, he staggered slightly. "Must have had a bit more rum than I thought."

Barbossa chuckled. "Now, don't be thinking to use that as an excuse to bargain for more time."

"No, two days. Here. Now, I mean same time as now. I shall bring you the cross. Good night," He turned and swayed across the room towards the door.

He had almost reached it when the gal who'd been serving them appeared by his side.

"Leavin'?" She smiled up at him.

"Yes, I am on a mission. To seal the bargain of cross to the station," He stopped, closed his eyes and thought hard. "Not right. Steal. That's it. Steal the … steal the cross."

"Ye've 'ad a bit too much o' that good rum I be thinkin'. Come along wiv me luv."

"Right, with you. And you are?" He grasped her arm to steady himself.

"Moll. Well, Molly really but e'ryone 'ere calls me just Moll. Now come wiv me…" Slowly steering him towards the door, she led him out into the fresh air.

"Whoa!" He gasped as the cool air hit him, along with the rum.

"Right. This way…" She pulled him along and he followed willingly. She headed to the room she shared with three other girls in the building across the way. Dragging him in there, she slammed the door shut.

"Loud."

She laughed. "Sit." Pushing him forward, he stumbled and landed face down on the bed.

"Mmmph!"

She slapped his rear. "Sleep."

He rolled over and grabbed her, pulling her down on top of him. "Why?"

"Ye be drunk."

"No I am not. I am Captain Jack Sparrow, savvy. The fiercest pirate in the Spanish Main."

"An' I be the Queen o' England."

Jack peered at her. "No you are not. I have seen her and you are decidedly not the Queen."

"Wull, mebee ye ain't quite so drunk but wot on earth were ye doin' wiv the likes o' 'at gent back there?"

"Barbosser?"

"Yes."

"He and his men have agreed to crew my ship. It is a grand ship, the Black Pearl. Would you like to see her? Perhaps I shall find black sails for her, that would be rather appropriate, do you not agree?" Suddenly Jack remembered the agreement. "Ah yes, agree. Well, they will work only if I cross the steal of Sebastian. Do you know Sebastian?"

"Ah, so 'at be wot ye were talkin' 'bout. Yer ta steal the cross?" She frowned. "They'll 'ang ye if they catch ye even tryin'." She nestled against his body.

"Well, they shall not catch me. I am Captain Jack…" His voice trailed off to a loud snore.

"I know… Sparrow," Rolling off him, Moll stood up and straightened her skirts. "Sleep it off, luv. I shall be back." Leaving the room, she returned to the tavern.

As she entered, she scanned the crowd for the other man. She finally located him. He had returned to sit with the group he had arrived with originally.

Fluffing her hair, she tugged at her chemise and headed directly for their table. "More drinks boys?"

A balding man reached out to pinch her. Slapping him playfully, "Now, now," Admonishing him, she smiled at the others.

As before, Barbossa flipped another gold coin at her. This was getting to be a rather profitable night for her. The owner required all the girls to pay for the drinks up front at his prices. What ever they earned above the price was theirs to keep. Tonight she had made more than she typically made in a year! "Be right back." She winked and darted away from groping hands.

Returning quickly, she set down a tray that included a few bowls of stew along with the bottles of rum. This time she'd brought a more inferior drink. The group barely noticed they were cheering so loudly at their leader.

"Aye! I have found us a ship. If he manages to even accomplish the task we shall simply have to sail with him for a bit. Fool such as him shall be easy to pry away from his precious 'pearl'." Barbossa brandished the bottle above them.

"An' wot task did ye set 'im too?" A dark-skinned man with a head full of dreads asked.

"To steal the cross of Saint Sebastian."

A hush fell over his group. "Why, they'll 'ang 'im."

Barbossa swatted the speaker as he rolled his eyes. "That is the precisely the plan you fool."

"Oi! I gits it. 'E tries ta steal the cross, they catches 'im an' 'ang 'im an' we takes off wiv 'is ship!" A rousing chorus of cheers rang out from the crew.

"We's gonna git a new ship!"

"AYE!"

Having heard enough, Moll slunk away back to her rooms.