Hey guys sorry about the massive delay in postage... A-Levels and all. But we are currently writing more, so after this you will be as up to date as we are lol.
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Mulder was the first one to hit the ground, landing in and completely crushing a large tropical plant, before instantly starting to roll downhill. The slope was soft, damp and forested, and he saw alternating snatches of green and brown as he tumbled, utterly unable to get his bearings. He scrabbled to grab hold of something he could use to stop himself falling, and managed to catch a vine in his outstretched fingers.

As he clung to the ground and tried to get his breath back, he suddenly saw a flash of grey and white streak past in a cloud of cursing. Evidently Scully had just overtaken him.

"Scully!" He called after her – but she had disappeared into the trees. "Scully! Ugh, dammit, dammit…"

Swaying slightly, he tried to haul himself upright – but the world was still spinning, and though he thought he could see a branch near him, when he reached out he got nothing but a fistful of air. Losing his footing anew, his arms flailed momentarily before he met the earth with a thud and resumed his descent.

He only completed a few more somersaults, however, before being halted by a collision with something small and soft. When it swore at him, he realised what it was.

"Get the hell off me, Mulder!" She commanded angrily. Mulder's head lolled to the side, and although he was still seeing stars even he could make out Scully's rather squashed form, sandwiched between a wide tree trunk and his own body.

She shoved him hard and he flopped onto his back, to find himself staring up at a thick rainforest canopy with patches of blue sky above. His vision was swimming, and he watched Scully stand up as from beneath the surface of water.

Scully, on the other hand, had always had a clearer head; as Mulder lay sprawled on the ground, she stood hands on hips and surveyed their surroundings. All she could see was rainforest in every direction, but she was sure she could hear signs of life being carried on the breeze from downhill - laughter, shouting, music. At least they couldn't have been right in the middle of nowhere, then.

She looked back down at Mulder, who was starting to get up, fervently rubbing his hands over his eyes. He could tell from the highly annoyed expression on her face that she was far from amused by their current situation. Once Mulder was on his feet and had regained his bearings Scully began to speak.

"Mulder, what the hell are we going to do now?"

"Beats the hell out of me," he replied, matching her tone. Scully's eyes narrowed as she fought to tamp down her increasing irritation.

"I don't suppose you have any thoughts as to where we might be?" Mulder simply shrugged.

"Well, right before we got sucked through that door, Professor Arkouche did say they were conducting space-time experiments in there." Scully's eyebrows rose slightly.

"Give me some credit Scully. It was pretty much the same as English. Any idiot could've figured out what it meant." It was all Scully could do to stop the sarcastic retort that was threatening to surface.

"Mulder, the entire notion of time travel completely defies the laws of physics. It's utterly impossible." At that moment the two agents heard rustling and giggling from a bush slightly behind them and to Scully's left. They whirled round to see a woman rush out laughing and wearing a rather revealing corseted dress, followed swiftly by a man wearing a frock coat and ruffled shirt. Scully gaped and Mulder smirked in amusement as they watched the couple run down the hill and out of sight. After a beat Mulder spoke, "Improbable, but apparently not impossible." Scully turned back to him and replied, "Ok, let's suspend reality here for a minute and say I believe your highly improbable time travel theory, what exactly do you propose we do now?"

"Seeing as we're on a case, and are being paid for it, maybe we could give finding those missing people a shot." He reached into his pocket and rummaged around for a bit before pulling out his badge and inspecting it closely. "So you think they know what the FBI is around here?" Scully sighed with exasperation before storming off down the hill towards the town she could hear in the distance. Mulder dutifully followed, curious as to what this place would bring.

As they descended down the hill, the sound of music started to get louder, a riot of accordions and violins thrashing out furious reels and jigs. Mulder glanced sidelong at Scully.

"Hey this is Irish music isn't it? Should make you feel right at home."

Scully shot him a look that would've melted titanium and continued walking, only getting a few paces before tossing over her shoulder, "Actually, it's not Irish, it's Southern English." Mulder shook his head incredulously and followed her as buildings started to loom up through the trees. They were approaching the end of a street, the air thick with yellow smoke between wattle and daub walls that hung over the dirt road. There was bright light behind the stained glass windows and Mulder and Scully found themselves stumbling upon what seemed to be one huge party.

Two brawling drunks chose that moment to stagger out of an open doorway to join the crowd on the street, punching at each other with slightly impaired aim and disappearing into the throng of merrymakers. Scully reached the edge of the forest and stepped onto the street before glancing back at Mulder. He saw her mouthing, "This could be fun." Mulder ran to catch up with her, wary of what might happen. There were a lot of other women on the street, but Scully hardly blended in with them. They were wearing what might have been classed as 18th century dress, but with distinctly less modesty than would've been expected: skirts with slits running up to the knee, colorful netted stockings, necklines leaving little to the imagination. Mulder blushed and avoided Scully's eye as he was reminded of one of his 'movies' at home.

Scully however was oblivious to his embarrassment as she noticed the rather large crowd that was beginning to congregate around them as they walked. As the crowd closed around them, Scully stopped and yanked on Mulder's arm, disrupting his previous train of thought.

"What?" was his only reply. She gestured toward the onlookers, who chose that moment to start cheering and tossing coins at their feet. Mulder couldn't resist and, leaning over, whispered in her ear,

"I think they want you to strip." Through clenched teeth Scully replied,

"My badge may not work here, but I'm pretty sure my gun still will." Luckily for Scully, she never had the opportunity to find out what they were expecting for no sooner had she finished speaking than an anonymous drunkard broke through the ranks of spectators and proceeded to vomit widely over the ground. Mulder and Scully jumped back, along with everyone else, and the congregation quickly melted back into the raucous mêlée that it had been before. Scully took Mulder's arm and hurried off, cursing her decision earlier that day to wear a skirt instead of pants. Mulder, having been distracted by a rather buxom woman leaning out of a window, barely registered he was being dragged into a side alley until he was thrown up against a wall.

"Hand over your jacket," Scully ordered, holding out an expectant hand. Mulder looked disappointed.

"And here was me thinking you'd dragged me round here so you could have your wicked way with me." From her face it was clear Scully was not amused.

"You can hardly be cold Scully. It's gotta be about 80 degrees out here."

"I am NOT walking around this town with my ankles on display. Hand it over or die." Mulder couldn't help but snicker slightly as he emptied the contents of his jacket pockets into his pants pockets, removed his jacket and handed it to the rather impatient Scully, who wrapped the arms around midthigh and secured it with a knot, allowing the back of the jacket to cover the front of her legs. Mulder just couldn't help himself.

"Very sexy." Scully took a very controlled breath, reigning in her anger. Although in reality she knew her dignity wouldn't last very long in this improvised outfit, as she turned and tottered back towards the street. Mulder watched her walk away for a moment, before wolf-whistling and calling after her,

"Really enjoying the view back here!" He wasn't entirely surprised when a strategically positioned finger appeared over her shoulder. Mulder smiled to himself and shook his head, starting to enjoy this trip even more than he had anticipated.

Having exited the side alley, Scully continued to walk along the main street of the town, Mulder easily catching up and falling into step beside her. All of a sudden, another drunkard, something which seemed to be a permanent fixture in this place, came swaggering out of a nearby doorway, making a beeline for Mulder and Scully. He approached Scully first, throwing his arms wide open and slurring, "I love Tortuga and I love you!" He lunged towards her, but Scully neatly ducked under his arm, causing him to fall straight onto Mulder, who deftly spun him around and pushed him towards the nearest prostitute, to whom he then proclaimed, "And I love you too!"

Scully stood with her arms crossed in front of her, watching the prostitute lead the man away towards, she noticed, the open door of the nearest pub.

"I'm starting to get the distinct impression that we really don't fit in here."

Mulder, distracted yet again by a group of women laughing and cooing at him, replied vaguely, "Yea, I think we need to get some new clothes." Scully's features contorted into a long suffering expression.

"Actually I was referring to us being respectable citiz…" Mulder walked towards her and cut her off mid flow.

"Especially you. They seem to have a pretty strict dress code around here for women. And as these fellas don't seem like the kind of guys you want to offend, and you've already covered up one of your assets…" he paused momentarily, reaching out a hand and skilfully undoing the top button of her blouse with two fingers to reveal ample cleavage, "… flaunt the other ones."

Deep inside of Scully, something snapped. The overwhelming desire that had been building since their arrival at the Atrius Institute finally became impossible to overcome. Mulder wasn't even aware of the right hook heading towards him until it connected forcefully with his jaw, propelling him backwards through the open door of the inn behind him and into the waiting arms of the nearest drunkard. By the time Mulder hit the wooden floorboards the man had already scrambled out from beneath him, and was standing offering his hand. The man was suitably dishevelled, with long untamed hair, a double plaited beard, a bandanna and what looked suspiciously to Mulder like heavy black eyeliner.

"You alright there mate?" he asked as he hauled Mulder up by the elbow. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Scully standing in the doorway, fist still clenched, before returning his gaze to Mulder, making it obvious he had witnessed the violent exchanged that had transpired.

"Not sure I deserved that," Mulder muttered under his breath, rubbing his aching jaw with his left hand. The bearded man sighed sympathetically,

"Tell me about it."

"You look like you need a drink after that." Mulder, who was still rubbing his stinging jaw which was now turning purple, looked around in a daze at the man standing next to him, who was holding out his hand.

"Captain Jack Sparrow," he introduced himself as Mulder accepted the handshake.

"Special Ag…" he began before cutting himself off. Having worked in the FBI for so long, "Special Agent" was his automatic response when required to introduce himself. But remembering his 18th century surroundings, he thought better of it. "Fox Mulder."

Jack grinned. "Fox? That sounds like a good strong pirate name to me."

Mulder hesitated, not really sure what to make of this remark. "So you're a pirate then?"

Jack laughed. "Pirate?! I'm Captain Jack Sparrow! Savvy?" With this he clamped his hand on Mulder's shoulder and steered him towards the bar. Unfortunately for Mulder, he was unaware that he had just confirmed himself in Jack Sparrow's mind as the most ignorant and vulnerable man in the whole of Tortuga.

"Maria?" Jack called to the barmaid, leaning just a little too suggestively over the counter towards her. "I need a very strong ale for this young gentleman."

"Anything for you Jack," she replied with a flirtatious smile and flutter of the eyelashes.

Jack looked over his shoulder at Scully, who had not moved from her position in the doorway and was now glowering angrily at the sight of Mulder sitting at the bar.

"D'you think your lady friend would like a drink?" he offered.

Looking at Scully himself, Mulder held up the metal pint flagon that the barmaid had just passed to him, the froth spilling over onto his knuckles, and with his face asked her if she wanted one.

He should've been able to predict his partner's reaction, which, instead of genially accepting the offer, was to set her jaw – eyes blazing – and storm out onto the street, promptly disappearing into the crowd. It was obvious that she had finally had enough of Mulder's antics.

From behind his own drink, Jack's expression betrayed his experience with women in rages.

"Take that as a no then," he concluded.

If she had been able to see it, Scully would've been pleasantly surprised by Mulder's behaviour since her dramatic departure. True to his word, he tried his best to treat the inn and Jack's company as part of the investigation – and therefore wisely avoided the ale he had been so graciously given.

However the experience had not proved as useful as he had hoped it might, and no matter how he worded his questions Jack seemed to know nothing that could be of any help to him. What's more, for someone who had learned to trust his instincts, he couldn't deny the overwhelming feeling that Jack was buttering him up for something. He smiled a lot, he always tried to be helpful when answering questions, he kept offering to buy Mulder another drink. Mulder didn't want to be cynical, but it was unusual for someone he'd just met to be so friendly (although Mulder had largely been the excuse for the large amounts of alcohol Jack had consumed since entering the bar).

As he was mulling over any other possible reasons for Jack's amicability, two girls entered the inn – the first two he'd seen so far who weren't dressed like whores. Instead they were wearing long trousers and boots, like many of the men he'd seen, and shirts buttoned up high enough to avoid too many leering gazes, and their faces were free of white make-up or pink blusher, showing their olive skin. They looked to be somewhere between 16 and 19, but it was difficult to tell in the dim light. Mulder's interest increased when he saw that they were heading towards Jack, weaving purposefully through the throng.

The girl in front was the taller of the pair, but not by much, with striking green eyes and black braids falling all the way down her back, the front few pulled out of her eyes and tied with a scrap of cloth. She carried two swords, one on either side, and the glint of a dagger hilt was peeping out of her left boot. Her companion, following close behind her, also appeared quite heavily armed with a pistol holstered to her belt on one side and a sword on the other. Her hair was auburn and shorter than her friend's, ending just below her shoulders and held back with a light blue bandana that matched the shade of her eyes. As they approached, she leaned forward and whispered something to her companion, but Mulder couldn't make out what it was. The black-haired girl made a reply as they reached the bar, and Mulder realised they were speaking Spanish.

Jack noticed that Mulder was staring over his shoulder, and turned to see what had captured his attention – and upon seeing the new arrivals immediately raised his glass in greeting.

"Look who it is, it's my favourite girls!" He exclaimed, speech starting to slur a little. "Come here, I've made a new friend." He grinned. "He's a bit on the strange side, but don't let that put you off."

The black-haired girl raised an eyebrow and smirked. "It didn't put us off you, Jack."

"True, true," Jack conceded, swivelling back round to face Mulder as the girls came to stand beside him. In the light of the candles on the bar, Mulder began to narrow down the age gap. 17? 18?

"Hate to disturb you if you're having fun," began the red-head, "and there may be no point telling you this in your current state, but we came to remind you we need more rope for the rigging before we leave. And if you don't get any then, well, you can climb it 'cause I won't."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Thank you, Yelena. Always so helpful."

"I do what I can." With a swift motion of her arm, she reached round Jack's shoulder, grabbing his drink from his hand and taking a large swig, replacing it into his still open hand before he had a chance to protest or move. "Come on Soledad, let's leave them to it." And with that, both girls turned on their heels and left the inn.

"Bloody women," Jack muttered, motioning for Maria to refill his glass.

"Glad I'm not the only one with problems," Mulder commented as he raised his drink to his lips, finally allowing himself to partake of the refreshments available. Just as he was about to replace his flagon on the bar, something shiny in it caught his eye. Tilting it towards a candle to get a better look, he reached inside and pulled out a coin. He held it up to show Jack. "Look what I've found!"

Jack, having just taken a large gulp of his drink, turned to see what Mulder was so excited about - but upon seeing the coin, jerked with shock and spat most of the mouthful of rum across the bar. He snatched the coin from Mulder's hand, dropped it back into the mug and pushed the offending drink away. He grabbed Mulder roughly by the tie, pulling him close to his face.

"Do not tell anyone you found that," he said in a terse whisper. "That shilling could be the quickest way to say goodbye to the rest of your life, savvy?" He released him and took a large swig of rum, swallowing audibly. Mulder simply stared at him in wide-eyed confusion. He was about to ask why, when a commotion near the door drew his attention. Three men had just entered, in officers' uniforms, and around them people shrank back in order to make room for them to pass through. Jack glanced over his shoulder at the officers and muttered darkly, "Speak of the devil."

"What do you mean?" Mulder asked.

Jack checked that nobody was listening near them before replying.

"Those are three officers from the Adversary, the ship of Captain Halcón. Notorious throughout the seven seas. You do not want to serve under him." Then his eyes brightened suddenly as though he had just remembered something. "Whereas I, on the other hand, have a much better reputation among those lucky enough to be in my crew…" He looked as though he was about to start a detailed description of his various merits, but Mulder cut him off before he had the opportunity to start a self-gratificating rant.

"Notorious for what?"

Jack set down his drink and looked at Mulder oddly. "You really don't know anything, do you? Where have you come from?"

Mulder paused. "That's a long story. Tell me about Halcón." The officers were pushing their way through to the bar, knocking aside anyone who didn't see them in time to move, and Jack surreptitiously slid the mug with the coin in further away from them. Then leaning in, he began quietly,

"No one really knows how long he's been sailing, but he's had that ship ever since he broke off from the East India Trading Company. He wasn't making enough money, he didn't have enough power. Now he's got his loyal officers – they're the ones you want to watch out for." He stole a nervous, hasty glance over his shoulder at the 3 men standing at the bar.

"Like them?" asked Mulder.

"Exactly. No-one in their right mind ever joins the crew so if someone manages to jump ship without getting caught, Halcón has to pressgang to make up the numbers."

"Pressganging? What, forcing people to join the crew? I thought only the navy could do that," said Mulder, confused.

Jack snorted. "Yeah. You can believe that if you want, mate." He pointed to the drink in which Mulder had found the shilling, and opened his mouth as if to start an explanation, but Mulder's brain was putting pieces together - and, thinking he might see a lead for the missing persons case, he interjected:

"Has he been taking people recently? Does he do it very often?"

Jack just laughed. "He does it as often as he bloody well wants, mate! It's usually when he's worked some poor bugger to death, or shot them for desertion, or by some miracle someone's escaped from the crew and not been caught." A mischievous smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Like now, for instance, he's probably still looking to replace the two who gave him the slip last month…the only two I've ever known to jump ship and live to tell the tale." He took a generous gulp of his rum. "So if you really want to know about our friend Halcón you should be talking to them."

"To who?"

"My girls. Soledad and Yelena, they were here just now."

Mulder was visibly taken aback. "You mean they've served under Halcón?"

Jack nodded. "6 months before his mast, before they managed to come back to me."

"6 months?" Mulder's incredulous tone made it obvious he had been expecting something much more dramatic. "That doesn't sound like very long."

A glimmer flashed through Jack's eye, and he grinned. "You try telling them that."

Mulder paused as though thinking, and looked from the officers at the bar, to Jack, and back to the officers.

"But…if they escaped his crew, aren't you worried about them wandering around the town with Halcón's men on the prowl?"

Jack shrugged. "I'm sure they can look after themselves, it's what they always have done."

There was slight hesitation on Mulder's face before he asked, "Do you think it would be possible for me to speak with them?"

Again, Jack shrugged. "That's not up to me to answer. If you can find 'em, you can speak as much as your merry heart desires." With that, he slid down off his stool and picked up the brown coat he had left draped over the bar. "I myself have business to attend to but I would be willing to arrange a rendez-vous if I am required." He attempted a friendly smile, though the impression Mulder had been getting earlier that he was being buttered up for something had by now faded. It must have been gradual, over the course of the conversation, but Mulder suspected that as he was no longer providing Jack with an excuse to drink, there was no need for excessive kindness to be shown towards him any more.

"No, thank you, I think I'll stay here for now – I'd like to speak with some other people first," the agent replied, glancing round the room at the couple of people he had picked out as likely sources of gossip and, therefore, information. "But I would like to speak with the girls as well, later."

Jack slid the coat over his shoulders, "Then I'll bring them with me when I come back. See you here in an hour."

A sudden burst of raucous laughter behind him snatched Mulder's attention, and he turned his head instinctively, but upon seeing that nothing of consequence was happening, turned straight back to shake Jack's hand – only to find that the pirate had already vanished. He cast a bemused glance from left to right, but Jack was nowhere to be seen.

Mulder gave himself a shake, and forbid himself to feel confused or out of his depth, quickly focusing on the interviews he had readily planned in his mind. First, the bar maid – if there was anything that could possibly link Halcón and his sailors to the Americans and Europeans who had disappeared, she of all people was bound to know something about it. There was also a gentleman seated in the very corner of the inn, who had been silently observing the comings and goings ever since Mulder first noticed him there, so he probably had a few useful observations to share. He realised, however, that this information would probably not be divulged for free – though simply handing over money would not do. Firstly, because all he had was modern Haitian currency, and no idea whether it was acceptable or not; and secondly, because it might be taken offensively, as too obvious a bribe.

He stood contemplating for a second, then suddenly remembered the shilling in his drink. Perfect! It was appropriate currency for sure, and he could give it to the barmaid saying that it was really hers, since he found it in his drink. Well, she would hardly refuse, would she – thus an exchange of money could take place without any awkwardness. And once the exchange had taken place she was far more likely to talk openly. Yes, of course!

Congratulating himself on his quick wit, Mulder stepped back up to the bar and retrieved his flagon from the far side, where Jack had left it. He didn't notice one of the officers, standing no more than a couple of yards away, looking sideways at him with a hint of suspicion in his eyes. A lot of the drink had been spilt as Jack had shoved it around the wooden board, which meant that Mulder didn't have to get his hand quite so covered in rum this time as he reached in and pulled out the shilling between his two forefingers. He wiped it over with his tie and held it up to the light, smiling satisfactorily. Poor Mulder. He had no idea what he had just done.

The suspicious officer had just had his suspicions confirmed, and no sooner had Mulder held up the shilling than the three of them were upon him – one of them snatching the coin from his hand and inspecting it briefly.

"Yes, this is the one, I thought so!"

"Wh- what?" Stammered Mulder, starting to struggle as he realised that the other two already had his arms. There were gasps from the surrounding onlookers, who clearly understood what was going on. "What are you talking about??"

The first officer thrust the shilling in Mulder's face. "What, you don't know what this means?" He looked at his companions, and they all laughed. Suddenly Mulder felt something hard hit his back, and realised that he had been pulled backwards until he was against a thick wooden pillar…leaving him nowhere to run. The officer stepped closer to him. "You ever sailed before, sonny?"

"What?" Was Mulder's bemused reply.

"Hm. Take that as a no." The officer sighed. "Oh well, never mind, first time for everything, eh boys?" He made a motion with his head towards the door, and the two men holding Mulder began to drag him that way, following their leader. Mulder squirmed and kicked, terrified and not having the faintest clue what was happening.

"Hey! Let go of me!"

"Oh, for heaven's sake," growled the officer, spinning round furiously. "Stop squealing, will you?"

And the last things Mulder remembered of that inn were a hail of fists falling on his face, a sensation of dizziness and extreme pain, and then darkness.

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Mwah haha!!!!!!!! We do love our cliff hangers hehe. And if you want more I suggest you start giving us some feedback. We'll post more once we've written it!
Lily and Sirocco
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