Jack groaned, slowly opening his eyes. Where was he? This was definitely not his cabin on the Wicked Wench. No wait, she no longer went by that name. What had he come up with last night? Ah, yes… the Black Pearl. Sitting up in the narrow bed, he grinned. He rather liked that name. He vaguely recalled some mention of black sails, or maybe it was thoughts on black sails. Either way the idea appealed to him. He determined to take action on that first thing this morning. He clearly recalled meeting with Barbossa and coming to some arrangement for him to join his crew. But there was something else…

The door opened and a woman peeked in. "Ah, ye be up at last." Entering, she closed the door behind her.

"Do I know you?" Her face was familiar but he did not remember her name. Had he slept with her and he didn't recall? She was pretty, shame if he did not.

"We ne'er were prop'ly intraduced. I be Moll, was servin' at the tavern last night."

"Ah, yes. Now I remember. How did I end up here?"

"Rum. Ye must wotch out ye don't drinks so much. Sneaks up on ye if ye lets it."

"Rum? Right…" He looked at her curiously then the events of the previous evening came back. "Ah, yes. Rum."

"But 'at be the least o' yer worries," Moll moved across the room to stand next to the bed. "'At man ye were speakin' wif. 'E plans ta steal yer ship."

Jack's nose wrinkled up. "No, he said he would join my crew."

"An' then steal yer ship."

"Steal! That's it! I'm to steal something…"

"Yes, 'e said 'as to 'ow yer ta steal the cross o' Saint Sebastian from the church. If ye e'en try, ye'll be caught and hung an' then 'e can just takes yer ship."

"Not if I don't get caught," Jack was feeling cocky now. He wouldn't get caught, would he? Besides it would be his first true act of piracy. If he was branded a pirate he might as well start acting like one. Of course that posed his first real problem, how did one go about stealing something? "Think like a pirate," He mumbled more to himself.

"Wot?" Moll stood looking at him strangely.

"Nothing, just talking to myself, luv," His mind whirled. What would a real pirate do? Wait… he WAS a real pirate now. He stood up and began to pace the tiny confines. "Think like a pirate… think like a pirate," He muttered as he paced. He stopped dead. "Do you have any paper here? And something to write with?"

Moll laughed. "I can't write! Why would I 'ave paper 'ere?"

"Can you go find some? Please?" He turned his most endearing look upon her.

She stared into his eyes, mesmerized. Finally she replied. "Mistress O'Connell's bound ta 'af sumfin' we kin use. I'll go o'er an' ask 'er. She lives right across't the way," She left the room and was gone about twenty minutes, finally returning with a fairly clean piece of parchment, a quill and ink.

"Excellent! First, where do they keep the cross? In the church?" He'd used the time she was gone to fully think out his plan.

"No, 'at be open all the time, any can walk in. I 'spect they keeps it locked up in their rooms."

"Thought as much," Sitting down at the table in the room, he quickly wrote out a short letter. Folding it up, he grabbed the candle on the table and dripped some wax upon it, sealing it with a signet ring he still wore on his hand. "Now, I want you to take this to the church and deliver it. You are to wait for a reply," He handed her the letter.

She took it from him. "Wots it say?"

His brown eyes stared deeply into hers, "Best not to tell you. The less you know, the better. Now go. I have a few errands to see to, then I shall meet you back here for their answer."

An hour later, Moll returned to her room noting that Jack was gone. Tired, she lay upon the bed. Pulling the pillow to her face, she noticed his scent lingered there. She drifted off to sleep dreaming of waking to find him back in her bed and this time not drunk.

Jack tended to his first errand easily. Finding a few young lads, he'd set them to dying his sails black. His second chore was a bit more complicated as he knew he had to do it without attracting any attention. He had wandered about the town's small market bargaining with various vendors for an odd assortment of items. Eventually he headed back to Moll's and let himself in.

As soon as he saw her sleeping, he quieted his movements, not wishing to disturb her. He set down his purchases then looked around the room until his eyes fell upon the response she had brought back. Using his small dagger, he broke the seal and scanned the contents, a smile of satisfaction growing on his face.

"Wot ye wanted 'im ta say? Is 'e goin'ter give ye the cross?" Moll rolled over to stare at him.

"Sorry, did not mean to wake you, and no, I did not even mention the cross," Jack tapped the letter lightly against the table.

"Oh," She yawned and rubbed her eyes. Sitting up she looked as the pile of things he had returned with. "Then wot's it say?"

"Simply that I am invited to dine with the good priest this eve, just as I had hoped."

"Yer ta dine wif 'im? I thoughts ye were goin'ter steal the cross?" She looked confused.

"Ah, but I am. After I dine with him. Might as well enjoy a good meal. Now…" He rummaged through the pile of things he had purchased. "I shall require your assistance. Can you sew? I find a few of these things are a bit too large."