Possibles of The Caribbean

by Twila Starla

Pirates of The Caribbean/KP AU fusion. Cursed pirates, a blacksmith and an aristocrat in love, a mysterious treasure, a compass that doesn’t work, and all the swashbuckling action you could ask for! Savvy? Find out what rescue teams are formed in chap. 10

2. The Dress and The Sword

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(Proofread version)

Note: Features parts based upon Pirates of The Caribbean: Curse of The Black Pearl deleted scenes.

I don't own Kim Possible or Pirates of The Caribbean. All historical references and figures mentioned don't belong to me either.

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Chapter 1: The Dress and The Sword.

She opened her sleep filled, olive eyes lighting fast, stirred by a dream, of Ron, and fog, and pirates, the day eight years ago. After a moment, she raced to her bureau drawer, unlocked it, moved its contents aside, pulling off the bottom, revealing a secret panel she'd hidden under a wood board that blended with the rest drawer, and surfaced her treasure of eight years, the pirate medallion, making sure it was still where she'd left it. Upon retrieving it, she smoothed the dust away from its surface, letting it shine like it had so many years ago. She stepped to the mirror, undid the chain, and placed it around her neck, adjusting the golden trinket so it faced forward. She breathed in, looking at the mirror, at herself, and at the medallion, thinking her dream over.

Ever since that day on The Dauntless, something in her slightly disliked pirates. At first, she believed it was because she may have brought them on, but disregarded that as Gibbs' old ghost stories getting to her only right after. Then she thought it could have been the black ship, and how close it'd been, how close it could've come leaving The Dauntless in wreckage like the other ship that day, but no, that wasn't quite it. Then she realized, they had nearly hurt a very dear friend of hers, that's why she didn't like them anymore, as much. Because strangely, she inwardly thanked them, for had it not been for pirates, she may have never met Ronald Stoppable.

Ron was not a pirate, as she had thought, but a simple boy, out at sea, whose ship was destroyed in a gunpowder explosion caused by men who had boarded in search of something. He said he never found out what before he hid in the cargo hold, seeking shelter. She marveled at the day he had told his story...

"You should've seen it, Kimberly!" he would say as she sat on his bunkin The Dauntless' sleeping quarters while he rested beneath the covers, although it was clearly impossible that she would've ever seen what he saw. "They were everywhere! Climbing up from the sides and down from the mast! And no matter what they did, they couldn't stop 'em! The Captain thought it best I stay out of the way," he said this in a rather annoyed tone. "I could've takin' 'em with one hand behind my back!"

She always found something generally different about Ron, he could see the brighter, funnier side to things, even something as dark as that. How was he able to laugh when the whole crew of his ship had died? How was he able to talk about pirates attacking and fighting them with such excitement? Brave, clever and funny, but a bit naïve, easily frightened, and somewhat daft all at once. He was weird, but she liked him.

She later learned that Ron, as he came to understand the situation and got older, deeply resented and feared pirates after what they did. His constant hanging around the Royal Navy might have something to do with it as well.

So, from there on out, they were something of a team. Kimberly Possible, born leader, fearless, ready to take on any challenge, and Ronald Stoppable, a fun-loving, wise cracking, best friend, whom, Kimberly found, to be serious when said time called for it. He was also rather brave when he had to be.

She could remember one time, when she was fourteen, she'd been trying to board a wild-born horse despite that her parents had told her to do, not to ride it, but she had her mind set on some things. As soon as she got on, the house began to kick and buck, and she, frightened suddenly, grabbed and pulled its mane, only making the animal madder.

It managed to break down the stall door, and was sent rampaging around the court yard, dragging a frightened Kimberly Possible with it. Her screams for help rallied her family, but it was Ron who raced in headfirst, snagging Kimberly from the top of the creature, both falling to the ground safely, but not before her hero was kicked in the mouth by the horse's back legs. Lost two baby teeth that day, it changed him forever. They had Old Tornado shipped away and Ron didn't like horses so much after that.

But although their outlook on pirates had changed as they got older, Kimberly still wanted that adventure of hers, the one she'd wanted for so long, too long. To feel the wind in her air, the spray of the sea on her face, to clash swords with a pirate. She would've thought she'd be over this by now, but no such thing would happen until her passion was fulfilled…

Somewhere in her heart, she hoped there would always be at least one buccaneer out there, sailing the open water and singing sea shanties. They always brought a sense of adventure and freedom to the ever-boring world of the young woman. What would she give to have the lifestyle of a pirate? No rules. No restraints. The opposite of the life of a public figure. Why'd she have to be born with the name Possible? They were so highly thought of. In all of the Caribbean, she had to live in the most boring of boring towns, Port Middleton.

She had to be born the oldest and was highly thought of among the people. She disliked it quite a bit, and sometimes thought of leaving, running away and never returning, but she took on the burden politely and graciously, never saying a word of her mind. If her father or anyone ever heard a smidge of her unruly behavior, he would be shunned by the pubic. Her mother, understanding but disappointed. Her tutors, just disappointed.

In reality, she wished she'd never been born, or at least not in this family. In a family like hers, she could hardly be the girl she strived to be. In today's society, no women could be exactly what she wanted to be. She felt like she'd been born in the wrong time. She would rebel against the blinded eyes to woman's rights, but her family came up again. Would they support her choices? Most likely. But would the people of Port Middleton accept if her family if they did so? Too much was at risk, and she cared too much for her family to ruin everything for them that way, as much as they loved her, she couldn't.

And why would she? As miserable as being an aristocrat was, there were benefits. Like… Like… well…

"Kimberly!" her father's voice echoed from outside the door, he knocked quietly. Kimberly gasped, and scrambled across her room, grabbing her robe from the bureau drawer and pulling it over her nightgown. She pulled her long auburn hair out of the back; it swung loose around her face, framing it over her olive eyes. Lastly, she grabbed the medallion up, and stuffed it into her bodice, hiding the coin portion. She then pulled her robe on fully, covering the chain.

"Are you alright?" she heard him ask as she made sure the medallion was well invisible, she looked at the door. "Are you decent?" She raced over from the mirror.

"Yes, yes!" she called through the door, straightening her robe one last time, there was a click, and her father entered her room, accompanied by two housemaids. Governor Possible's hands were behind his back; his usual smile adorned his face. He wore the same powdered wig as always, but today he had clad a brown waistcoat, matching trousers, and his best shirt, the one with the dark lace trim along the cuffs of the sleeves. He looked at his daughter and shook his head lightly.

"Still abed at this hour?" he asked, Kimberly nodded her head with a smile, although she really had no idea what time it was. The maids rushed into the room, one began making Kimberly's bed, while the other quickly drew the rose red curtains, allowing a burst of sunlight inside. Kimberly squinted, but her smile lingered on weakly. The maid unlatched the window and opened it, then stepped back behind The Governor, along with her comrade whom had smoothed Kimberly's bedspread out perfectly.

"It's a beautiful day," said he, breathing in the fresh air. From the window, Kimberly could see the shipping bay, and all the brightly colored ships within it. Merchant ships and small sail boats, every kind of ship you could think of, and then some. Shining gems over sapphire pools, gliding on the water like large, brown swans. The window box flowers and roses climbing up from the garden trellis outlined her view perfectly, as though a moving painting in a highly decorated frame. Governor Possible approached his daughter with a graciously large smile, his hands still hidden behind his back.

"I have a gift for you," he said, and opened his arms to reveal a huge, pink and white striped box, just big enough that Kimberly had to widen her berth when he pulled it out. The two maids went to work once more, taking off the top of the box and removing the paper within it, although Kimberly knew she was very well competent and had been able to open her own things without help since she was six, she let them do their job.

Once all the paper was cleared, Kimberly slowly reached inside the box and carted out a lovely, light yellow, creamy colored dress. The bodice was adorned in beautiful lace, cut into a rectangle, stitched in with thin strips of waved lace, running vertical across the sides. The sleeves were puffed out and frilled with the same lace, as was the dress's collar. One of the most fantastic gowns she'd ever seen. Kimberly unfolded the dress and cradled it gently in her arms, then looked up at her father with a smile.

"Oh, it's beautiful!" she exclaimed, looking back down at the luscious clothing.

"Isn't it?" said her father, exuberant that she was pleased. Kimberly hugged the grown, careful as not to wrinkle it. She let the bodice fold over her arms and eyed Governor Possible mysteriously.

"May I inquire as to the occasion?" she asked. Father never insisted on giving her gifts before her birthday. What was he up to? The Governor's smile never seemed to cease.

"Does a father need an occasion to dote upon his daughter?" Kimberly, letting her guard slide just a bit, laughed softly before she skipped into her rosewood partition, a dressing screen set around the left wall, in order to put the dress on. Governor Possible turned to the two maids.

"Go on," he gestured for them to follow his young redheaded child. Both maids looked at each other and smiled, for they, themselves thought the dress to be rather fetching as well, it must have cost the Governor a pretty penny to have it made. The two girls walked forward,and followed Kimberly into the partition.

Governor Possible turned to the window, a hand behind his back, and watched the ships. So far out, yet they looked as though he could pluck them out of the water like fallen, autumn leaves. With his free hand, he ran his fingers on the windowsill. He heard Kimberly's squeals of excitement, and bit his lip, a bit of nervousness in his eyes. Guilt overthrew him. He was avoiding something, and could hide it from Kimberly no longer.

"Actually," said he, cocking his face in Kimberly's direction, "I, um...I had hoped you might wear it for the ceremony today."

Kimberly looked out from the partition; her body only showing from her shoulders up, she was most likely trying not reveal herself in the nude or even in her undergarments. She green eyes filled with confusion and surprise.

"The ceremony?" she asked. This was even more unlike her father. If not just a gift, why'd he buy her this new dress for some old ceremony? And why'd he hide this bit of information from her at first?

"Captain Mankey's promotion ceremony." James Possible added confidently, but fearfully. That's why. Kimberly's confusion turned to rage.

"I knew it!" was her final word to him before vanishing behind the partition once more, too angry to look at him, and in avoidance of saying something she may regret.

The younger maid tightened a corset around Kimberly, covering the breast and stomach portions of her fleece under dress. Captain Mankey! If there was any person she disliked as much as Commodore Señor Senior Sr., it was everyone's favorite pretty face on this side of Port Middleton, Joshua Mankey. Ever since the old man had died one year after the crossing of the Dauntless, everyone had high hopes that the young soldier and his son, Junior, would take his father's place as Commodore, but the boy had better chances of falling off the edge of the world then becoming anything like Senior. Such a daft idiot he was, no sense at all. Then came Mankey, a handsome young man with top swank skills and a Captain all the way from England. He was strong, fast, and smart in battle. Handy with a rapier and a gun, with good looks to boot. All the young women found him very attractive, But Kimberly found him to be insensitive and snobbish as well, from their meetings over the years. What bit of good that was in him all went into serving The King and handing out justice to those whom he thought deserved it. A short drop and a sudden stop. His thoughts were as black and white as Senior's. And no man would receive a place in her heart if they were that way.

The elder maid suddenly tightened to first lace of the corset, causing a sharp breath of pain to escape from the young aristocrat.

"Commodore Mankey, as he's about to become!" Governor Possible said, walking away from the window, headed for the partition, now that Kimberly was clothed. The maid laced the corset again, Kimberly's waist tightened further, she grunted uncomfortably. Another lace up, it became tighter, almost a feeling of crushing her ribs. James' footsteps on the wooden floor could be heard.

"A fine gentleman, don't you think? He fancies you, you know." The Governor said, standing right outside the partition, but Kimberly didn't answer, just another stifled grunt. He fancies me? Just peachy. When she didn't reply, James turned, almost coming into the room separator.

"Kimberly?" Governor Possible asked, appearing in front of the young redhead. He saw the annoyed look in her eye, whether it be of this news of Mankey, whom she had negative feelings for, or the ever-painful corset, he couldn't tell. "How's it coming?" As the corset continued to be laced, Kimberly let out another sharp breath.

"It's difficult to say," she said. This was about the corset. The elder maid stopped for a second when Kimberly jolted due to the lacing.

"Malady, please try not to move," she said.

"Sorry," Kimberly muttered painfully. Her father looked at her worriedly, not knowing how to help, so he spoke the first thing that popped into his mind.

"I'm told it's the latest fashion in London," he said. Kimberly couldn't stop herself from moving as the lacing was finished up. She did her best to keep the annoyance out of her voice, but the constant jiggling made her sound even angrier.

"Well, women in London must've learned not to breathe." she strained to speak at this point. She held her breast when the final lace was done, breathing sharply. The Governor sighed, but before he could say another word, there was a knock at the door. Since Kimberly was unable to move, as she was getting the dress pulled on at that point, she could not see whom it was, but Governor Possible could. It was the butler, a short-ish man with a powdered wig, looking respectable as usual.

"Milord, you have a visitor," he said. James' smile once again returned.

"Oh, good! Thank you, Bates!" he replied. Bates bowed before exiting, James was not long to follow.

--

In the foyer of the house, stood a young man with chocolate brown eyes and a freckled face, dressed in his finest. He jadedly looked around the room, waiting as patiently as he could, his hands grasping a rectangular case. He scratched his ankle with his left foot.

With an outfit that matched that of Governor Possible's, save for the coloring, which was mustard yellow, he looked like a regular aristocrat himself. His usually messy, blonde hair was tied back tight and smoothed out, glossy and perfect no matter which way he turned. His shoes were shined, his face was clean, he looked rather dashing actually. He'd taken his time to prepare; he was meeting The Governor after all, and on a business trip such as this, one must look acceptable for city officials.

Now to wait.

Unfortunately, Ronald Stoppable didn't have a very good attention span.

Upon looking around, he spotted a sconce hanging from a nearby wall, a very nice one too. Most likely brass or iron or gold. He leaned forward, getting a better look at it. After studying it efficiently, he grabbed it, as to feel the craftsmanship. There was a loud squeak, and a piece of the candleholder bent down and broke off in his hand.

He stared down at the snapped metal with an unsure face. A door closed from up stairs and footsteps began approaching him. He heard and almost immediately, began trying to cover up his blunder, placing the broken candleholder into a large vase, hidden amongst a few umbrellas and canes.

As the butler appeared, coming down the stairs, Ron turned to him with a nervous smile; he was no better at hiding things then Kimberly, but luckily, Bates paid him no mind. He nodded politely to the young man before passing him by, Ron nodded back, relieved. Governor Possible came down only seconds later, and smiled when he saw Ron, who quickly turned back to face the stairwell.

"Ah, Mr. Stoppable, good to see you again." The Governor said, reaching the bottom of the stairs, approaching Ron with open arms. Ron half-thought of embracing his would-be father, but when James clapped his hands together, he remembered his manners and that this wasn't just a visit. He pulled forward the case he had brought, presenting it to The Governor.

"Good day, sir," he said politely, unlatching the case and cracking open the lid, revealing a beautiful sword, a slivery, sharp edged blade and a shining gold hilt, which was gaudily carved into a twist, like vines twined together. The end of the handle was a smooth orb shape, which was pretty much all that was visible under an equally decorative scabbard, highly ornamented with gold and jewels. "I have your order," he continued.

The Governor grinned as Ron reached in and pulled out the sword, handing it to the older man. James unsheathed the blade and held it high, examining each detail carefully, making sure it was exactly as he had hoped it'd be.

"Well," he exclaimed, lowering the blade, obviously impressed. Ron beamed ear to ear at this.

"The blade is folded steel," the youth explained as James observed the sword farther. "That's gold filigree laid into the handle, if I may." Ron put out his hand, James stopped and, after a second, placed the blade in the boy's palm, Ron promptly lifted it, steadying the middle of the sword between his forefinger and thumb.

"Perfectly balanced, the tang is nearly the full width of the blade." He tossed the blade into the air, having it twirl gracefully. Ron left his hand open, waiting for it to come back down. But when no such thing happened, he looked up, and saw the sword had become stuck in the ceiling.

With a nervous laugh to The Governor, Ron ran up to the wall with the broken sconce and pounded a fist against it, he was a bit stronger then he looked. The sword jostled and fell, and with one quick movement, Ron ran back in front of James, opened his hand once more, and, this time, caught the sword by the hilt, smiling. Only then did his trousers fall, revealing his underwear. James laughed.

"Well done," he said as Ron pulled his pants back on, then bowed slightly.

"Thank you, sir," the boy said, handing Governor Possible the saved weapon. He took it and placed it back in its scabbard. Ron put his hands behind his back again, but not before handing James the sword's case.

"Impressive, very impressive," James continued, putting the shining blade away and setting the case aside. "Ah, now, Commodore Mankey is going to be very pleased with this. Do pass my compliments on to your Master, hmm?"

Ron, who was gathering up his bag from the floor, suddenly looked to James. His Master? He had made the blade; he spent all night putting the finishing touches to it. Poor Rufus, the donkey who ran the machines, he'd been tired out after working so long. The materials that went into it were expensive, and took most of his saving to purchase. Despite what people thought, Ron was very handy with tools and an excellent blacksmith, one of the few unexpected talents the boy had.

Ron always wondered what stopped him from saying he was the one who made the sword, because he didn't. He just smiled warmly and, after a moment, said:

"I shall. A craftsman is always pleased to hear his work is appreciated."

The reason? A young woman whom he hadn't seen in some time had entered the room, looking most ravishing.

Kimberly stood at the top of the stairs, now fully dressed. Her light yellow dress looked even lovelier then it did in the box, striking across her every curve and fitting perfectly. Cream white shoes peeked from under the hem of her skirts, and white gloves covered her hands, in which she carried a lacey fan. Her red hair was pulled into a neat bun and hidden under a frilly lemon colored bonnet covered with flowers and lace. Two gold, diamond encrusted earrings hung from her ears, and the long, a necklace made from matching martial twisted around her neck, and the gold chain of her pirate medallion hung below it.

She placed a gloved hand on the rail and looked down at the commotion below. James caught sight of her.

"Oh, Kimberly, you look absolutely stunning." he said proudly. Kimberly smiled at him bitterly, obviously still sour about the reasons for this dress. She slowly descended down the steps, her eyes never leaving her father. She looked very regal. Ron's eyes never strayed from Kimberly, who suddenly felt his stare and, finally, regarded his presence with visible happiness.

"Ron! It's so good to see you," she called from the stairs, nearly to the bottom. She suddenly raced down all the way, then slowed her pace, and stopped in front of the two men, but facing her long-time best friend, who smiled at her, breaking his gawk of surprise. Kimberly smiled back in a way that radiated her beauty further, only making Ron dizzier in amazement. She grasped the fan with both hands and spoke.

"I had a dream about you last night," she said. Ron smiled in surprise.

"About me?" he said, gesturing a hand to his chest. Kimberly nodded, her smile ever lasting. Ron felt as though he could stare at her glistening smile forever, her teeth like shining diamonds under soft rose petal lips. He didn't even have time to process what he'd just thought before Governor Possible pushed into view, standing over Kimberly's shoulder.

"Kimberly, is that entirely proper for you to...?" he began to ask.

"About the day we met," Kimberly added gingerly, her father opened his mouth but closed it again, like a codfish. The redhead turned to Ron with a glisten in her eye, that look he'd seen in on her face for so long, a look of pure joy, she was always like this around him.

"Do you remember?" she asked. Ron grinned ear to ear once again.

"How could I forget, Miss Possible?" he said in the most polite manner, utterly forgetting how much Kimberly disliked being addressed that way, especially by old friends. But she merely shook her head as her smile dulled down a bit.

"Ron, how many times must I ask you to call me Kimberly?" she asked, eyeing him suspiciously, more mysteriously then she had with her father. Ron stared blankly into her eyes, then replied:

"At least once more, Miss Possible, as always." Kimberly sighed exhaustedly at this, opening her fan gently in her hand. Even her closest friend only saw her as a paper doll belonging in the world of parties and finery, or did he? She never got to ask. As her father pushed between the two friends, Kimberly's smile turned to scowl, her sour mood returning.

"There. See? At least the boy has a sense of propriety," said James, placing a hand on her shoulder, he then leaned to the side and grabbed a parasol from the nearby vase. There was a clank as he did so, like metal hitting the bottom of the container. He turned and gazed at it strangely, then looked back Kimberly. "Now, we really must be going." he handed her the parasol with a smile, she slowly took it in her empty hand, "There you are!" with that, James stepped away from the two young adults, heading for the door, which the butler opened in reply.

Kimberly looked at Ron, annoyance, and something of playfulness, in her eyes as she opened the parasol above her head. She held it tight and spoke.

"Good day, Mr. Stoppable." and trotted after her father, never looking back at him, obviously upset that her morning and reunion had been spoiled.

Ron stood in a daze. As The Possibles exited the door, he grabbed up his bag and followed them, nodded to the butler as he passed, and sped out.

"Come along," called James' voice to his daughter. Ron stood at the stone steps that led to the house as Kimberly and Governor Possible got into the horse-drawn carriage parked outside.

"Goodbye…" he called, raising his hand, but Kimberly wasn't looking in his direction. He sighed.

"Kimberly."

The Governor waved back before shutting the door behind him, and with that, the coachman slapped the air with his whip, and the three, beautiful brown horses rushed off, taking the carriage away. Ron lowered his hand sadly as it vanished down the street. Kimberly gazed through her window, looking back at Ron sadly as he walked away from their manor, then turned to her father, who looked at her sternly. She placed her parasol in her lap and looked out to the windowagain, ignoring him. James looked the opposite way awkwardly, then turned back to his daughter.

"I do hope you demonstrate a little more decorum in front of Commodore Mankey," he said, Kimberly looked at him in acknowledge, then turned back to the window in frustration. James noticed her anguish, but continued.

"After all," he said. "It was only through his efforts that Port Middleton has become more civilized, hm?" The carriage suddenly hit a bump, causing both aristocrats to bounce up in their seats. Kimberly held her hat to her head; this was turning into a very tedious morning indeed.

--

A few miles out of Port Middleton: water, nothing but open ocean, crystal blue bathed in sunlight and star-and moon-speckled skies as far as the eye can see, and it would go on for weeks and months if you were to sail away from the island, it would be all you would see for that time on end as well.

But today, someone was sailing for Port Middleton, right toward it, and for whatever reason he had for doing so, his coming was about to change everything for the people of the large Caribbean isle.

He stood atop the mast of his fishing dory, his head rocking slightly with the boat's movement, watching the sunrise with weary, dark eyes; shaded, black rings of kohl rounded them. He was a rather tall, scruffy looking man with long black hair that cascaded over his shoulders, mated and dirty and filled with all sorts of baubles, trinkets, beads, and strings that held several strands in small braids. Atop his head was a blood red bandana and worn tricorne hat which he had owned for quiet some time. Among the facial hair area, he had some to spare. A thick, dusty mustache curved over his lips, and he had something of a beard growing, with a small tuft on his chin, the rest was set in two beaded braids that stuck out off his face.

He wore a pair of well-used boots and brown overcoat that covered his pirate-styled clothes consistently. Several gold and rather expensive rings adorned his fingers.

It was obvious in his mind, the moment he stepped on their ground, he would be a stranger in the eyes of Port Middleton's inhabitants, and this was a good thing. But he was no stranger to Port Middleton or its people… or the waters that surrounded it.

He looked down from the mast. His eyes doubled in size. Without hesitation, he grabbed a piece of rigging and swung down to the deck of the boat, and landed ankle-deep in salt water.

After examining his predicament, he grabbed a nearby bucket and used it to bail some of Port Middleton's waters out of the small dory, but it proved no avail. After several more tries, he tossed the bucket aside, but not out of frustration.

The first land reach of Port Middleton, a small cove that led into the more primitive areas of the island, not yet conquered by man, passed by rather slowly. Hanging in the arch of the cove were four skeletons, dunned in rotting clothes and strung up by their necks with thick ropes that were tied to the rock. No doubt those was the ropes they had died on. A single sign swung next to the decomposed bodies on a fifth rope, but the man could hardly make out what it said from his position.

He removed his hat and placed it over his chest, paying homage to the poor fellows. As his small ship sailed closer to the cove's entrance, the small sign's readings came into view: Pirates, Ye Be Warned!

He only smirked and continued until the cove passed by completely, then placed his tricorne back on his head.

--

The Port Middleton harbor was bustling. Filled with merchant ships and fishing boats and even some different boats from around the world. Old sea dogs, young strapping sailors, boys running up and down the wharfs in play, this was probably the most consistently busy area in the entire island.

An old looking sailor was practicing his knots on a shoddy piece of rope for the millionth time that day, when something in the water caught his eye, a small bucket floated past, then he looked up and saw something else, and he wasn't the only one. Every seaman in the harbor stopped what they were doing and watched, as a stranger sailed in, standing on his mast. But that was the interesting part, because the mast was the only part of the boat that was not underwater.

Holding the tip of the mast with one hand, the stranger's head was held high as his boat sailed into the harbor, sinking ever deeper as it went.

The sinking boat was nearly completely submerged. The stranger merely stood at the mast as if nothing was wrong, as if his boat wasn't taking on water. Either this man was the dumbest sailor in the Caribbean, or the best nerved one. This was exactly what he wanted them to believe, because he was nethier.

The mast was low enough, that by the time he was right at dock, he stepped off casually, leaving what looked like a waterlogged stick and some sails in the harbor.

All eyes still on the stranger, he strode up the dock carelessly, quickly. He walked almost like a drunken sailor, or was he? Who could tell?

The harbormaster, who was a very stuffy character indeed, powdered wig and all, was walking the opposite way of the stranger when he passed him. He'd just come back from splitting up some sort of fight on the other side of the port and was in no mood for nonsense. With a young boy at his side, a portly, ten year old, dark skinned child, most likely his assistant, he made his way to the dock. When the strange character passed him, sneaking up the dock in speed, quickly the harbormaster realized that he'd never seen the chap before, and that somebody was trying to rat his way out of pay. With that, he wheeled around, calling back to the stranger.

"Hey! Hold up there, you!" he called irritably to the most ratty looking man. The stranger turned on his heel very coolly, looking at the harbormaster in a melancholy way. The harbormaster huffed.

"It's a shilling to tie up your boat at the dock," he said. They both looked back at the stranger's sunken boat, its flag blowing in the wind more mockingly then proudly. They turned back to face the other, the stranger's expression never changed.

"And I shall need to know your name." Continued the harbormaster, the assistant handed his ledger and feather pen, he took them prestigiously, waiting for the other man's reply. The stranger looked around the port, then reached into his pocket and placed something gold and shiny onto the harbormaster's open book. The stuffy man's eyes doubled.

"What d'ye say to three shillings, and we forget the name?" asked the stranger. The harbormaster was silent for a second. The boy looked at the bargaining going on before him, and raised his eyebrows in amusement. After some deep thinking, then harbormaster closed his ledger on the three coins. Business was business, and money was money.

"Welcome to Port Middleton, Mr. Smith," and continued his walk down the dock, the young boy followed. The stranger watched as the man strode away, waiting for him to disappear from view. He leaned against the harbor podium, and noticed the harbormaster's money pouch there, he had left it. When the two were well out of sight, the stranger snatched up the money and took off.

--

The ceremony was situated at Port Middleton's fort, which had been built by the seaside to keep watch for pirates. It housed cannons, muskets, and many other manner of defense. Not to mention the sixteen-foot high wall that surrounded it brick for brick. It was beautiful, big, and made for war. A prided point to the people, and a safe haven if there ever was so much as a bullet shot at Port Middleton. Today it served a much differing, smaller propose, though.

Many rich colleagues and wealthy friends stood together, quietly chatting every now and again as they watched soldiers of the Royal Navy march out in groups of two, then in the front, groups of three, each carrying a flag, including that of England's. Some carried drums, but most had muskets leaned at their shoulders, looking steadfast and strong.

Amongst the people, women fanning themselves, and men in feathered tricornes, Kimberly sat alone, holding her fan close and moving it up and down faster then most people were. The corset felt as though it was growing tighter as she tried to breathe. She wiggled uncomfortably in her seat. Curse it, this corset! You can make it, Kimberly, she thought, just a little longer.

--

From the beach and dock below, several large-ish ships could be seen on the waters, one being loading with cargo by nearby workers, the fort was set on the cliff above. The stranger wandered into a nearby brush, watching the ship carefully. He looked around a bit to make sure no one was following him, then headed straight through.

--

The musket carrying and flag carrying soldiers stood in lines of two in the middle of the courtyard, back to back, each holding the gun upward. The most emotionless look on their face. Their commanding officer shouted orders from the sidelines.

"Two paces march!" They all took two large steps forward, then stood in attention. A dashing young man walked up at the end of the lines, dressed in a blue and gold coat and very decorative tricorne, under the hat was a powdered wig, hiding his light blond hair. His hands were behind his back, a serious look on his face. "Right about face!" the soldiers took a step back on their right foot, spun around on their heels, and faced the opposite line of men. Governor Possible watched from his place at the center stage, an easy smile on his face as he rocked a little on his heel.

"Present arms!" they threw the muskets forward and held them up, causing the barrels to touch and creating an arch. The young man, his expression ever stiff, walked forward, going into the path made by the guns and soldiers.

Kimberly fanned herself even harder as she stood with the rest of the audience; the sun was beating down on her now, and her clothes were so thick, she warmed up much faster then anyone loosely dressed would. The heat, the corset, they worked in harmony, keeping air from filling her lungs. Just a little more time, she reminded herself, but the heat continued to beat her down. This ceremony had to end soon, it just had to. She might fall down dead if it didn't.

Governor Possible removed the newly crafted sword from its wooden case, which was being held up by a close friend of his. James turned to the young Commodore, and presented it to him. Mankey pulled the sword from the sheath and held it in his left hand, then tossed it to his right hand and pointed it outward.

As The Commodore tested out the sword, Kimberly squirmed, now trying to adjust her corset to some point where it'd be comfortable, fanning herself all the while. The heat, the corset, the heat, the corset. She was losing her breath constantly. Please Father, just finish up!

--

The stranger jogged, coolly, down the boardwalk, looking out at the beachfront, and the ship ported by it. The boardwalk sloped down suddenly and took the man down, down to the dock. That was his target. That ship. Now just to get to it. Walking drunkly, he strolled down. That's when he saw two Royal Navy soldiers at the bottom!

Both very young, teen years to twenties, no more, no less. The first was tall, broad-shouldered, and semi-muscular under his red coat. He had sea blue eyes and short, black, wavy hair, he leaned against one of the boardwalk's foundation posts casually while his comrade sat on some nearby barrels, digging something out of his shoe. He was a bit skinnier then the other, with hazel eyes and, long brown hair that was tied back. He'd removed his hat and was using it as a lady used a fan. They were both obliviously taking shelter in the shade and guarding their post at the same time; they were also very wrapped up in whatever conversation they were having. They were distracted, and probably wouldn't notice him. But he rushed down the rest of the way regardless.

The two young soldiers spotted the stranger despite his speed-up, and both went after him. The skinnier one put his hat on, and grabbed his musket up from its resting place. They raced ahead and stopped the man dead in his tracks, blocking his way and view of the ship, holding their muskets up so the stranger could see them.

"This dock is off limits to civilians," said the skinnier one, Melvin was his name. The stranger looked unfazed.

"I'm terribly sorry, I didn't know," he said raising his hands in unison with his words, "If I see one, I shall inform you immediately." He took a large step to the right and, once more, attempted to enter the dock. The two soldiers blocked him again. The stranger looked at the two of them in surprise. This was going to be harder then he thought. He took a deep breath and spoke with the same, unfazed expression.

"Apparently there's some sort of high toned and fancy to do up at the fort, eh?" he said, changing the subject. Hector, the other soldier, looked up at the fort at this, but Melvin's eyes never swayed from the man. The stranger continued. "How could it be that two upstanding gentlemen such as yourselves did not merit an invitation?" he spoke with a look of mock disbelief.

The two young men looked at him as if they themselves had asked this question, but did not say so aloud.

"Someone has to make sure this dock stays off limits to civilians." Melvin merely replied after a moment. The stranger nodded.

"It's a fine goal to be sure but it seems to me that-" he continued, walking to the left. Melvin and Hector followed his every move and stood in his way in case he should try to enter the dock yet again, the stranger continued talking as they did so, "that a boat like that makes this one here a bit superfluous, really." he gestured out to the waters, where the H.M.S Dauntless sat in all its glory, then at the other ship, the Interceptor, they had at dock. The two men looked back at him quickly.

"Ship," Hector corrected with a stern look.

"Ship, right." the stranger said dismissively.

"Oh, the Dauntless is the power in these waters, true enough," said young Melvin knowledgeably, catching the stranger's attention yet again, "but there's no ship as can match the Interceptor for speed."

The stranger mockingly thought Melvin's words over, placing his hand on his chin for a second. Then spoke. "I've heard of one, supposed to be very fast - nigh un-catchable...the Black Pearl."

The two young soldiers looked amused. Hector laughed heartily, while Melvin's mouth twisted up sourly in disbelief, but he didn't say a word. They both looked at the stranger as if what he was saying didn't make sense at all.

"There's no real ship as can match the Interceptor!" chuckled Hector brightly. Melvin heard this, and turned to his comrade, losing his lemon face.

"The Black Pearl is a real ship," he said. Hector looked at Melvin with a goofy smile, still holding back giggles.

"No, it's not," he said, and looked back at the stranger, Melvin persisted.

"Yes, it is! I've seen it!" he replied. Hector looked back at his skinny friend with a more serious gleam in his eyes.

"You've seen it?" the brawny soldier asked disbelievingly.

"Yes," Melvin replied again.

"You haven't seen it." Hector insisted. The stranger, who was watching their argument unfold, rolled his eyes.

"Yes, I have," Melvin continued. Hector sighed and leaned his face closer to Melvin's, the serious expression overpowered the young soldier.

"You've seen a ship with black sails, that's crewed by the condemned and captained by a man so evil that Hell itself spat him back out?" Hector asked. Melvin seemed to think about it for a second.

"No," he answered. Hector nodded with the same serious expression.

"No," he echoed, and turned back to the stranger, who smiled at him, friendly-like. Melvin spoke once more.

"But I have seen a ship with black sails." he added. Hector looked back at him, obviously tired of this conversation. While their backs were turned, the stranger managed to slip away from view and onto the dock.

"Oh, and no ship that's not crewed by the condemned and captained by a man so evil that Hell itself spat him back out could possibly have black sails therefore couldn't possibly be any other ship than the Black Pearl. Is that what you're saying?" Melvin was quiet for a second, then nodded with a smile.

"No,"

Hector nodded. His point had been proven. "Like I said," they both turned away from each other, "there's no real ship as can match the Interceptor-"

They suddenly both realized that the stranger had vanished. Franticly, they looked up and down the dock, then, Melvin spotted him, standing at the wheel of the Interceptor, moving it up and down and looking as though he owned the ship. The two soldiers grabbed up their muskets and tore after him yet again.

"Hey! You!" Melvin shouted as they jumped on board the Interceptor, he and Hector. The stranger watched them with a perplexed expression. Both ran up to the wheel and Melvin instantly aimed his weapon at the stranger. "Get away from there!" Hector stepped up next to him, his musket also ready to be fired.

"You don't have permission to be aboard there, mate," he said. The stranger didn't step away from the wheel entirely, but kept one hand on it as he moved.

"I'm sorry, it's just - it's such a pretty boat. Ship." he added quickly, holding his hand up in defense. The two young soldiers were quiet for moment.

"What's your name?" asked Melvin finally, still ready to shoot.

The stranger grabbed the wheel with both hands. "Smith. Or Smithy, if you like."

Hector lowered his weapon for a second. "What's your purpose in Port Middleton, Mr. Smith?" He re-raised the musket.

"Yeah, and no lies!" Melvin added quickly.

"Well, then, I confess," the stranger moved a bit from the wheel, stepped away completely, and walked forward. Hector and Melvin never lowered their weapons, but backed up with each step he took forward. "It is my intention to commandeer one of these ships, pick up a crew in Tortuga, raid, pillage, plunder and otherwise pilfer my weasely black guts out!" He grabbed on to the nearby rigging and leaned against it casually. Melvin's eyes widened.

"I said no lies!" he shouted in annoyance.

"I think he's telling the truth," Hector said quietly, never looking away from the stranger. Melvin looked up at his fellow soldier.

"If he were telling the truth, he wouldn't have told us." Melvin stated. The intrude from the stranger's voice caused the young soldier to jump.

"Unless, of course, he knew you wouldn't believe the truth even if he told it to you." said the stranger. Melvin nodded and smiled, but then frowned. Even he was confused now.

--

After the ceremony was over, everyone headed for the battlement for a small party of sorts. It was wonderful. The people were enjoying themselves, there was food and music and talk. The battlement was the perfect place for this, the size was just right and the view was exceptional.

Kimberly stood close to the open area, but in the shade at the same time, still fanning herself excessively. She just couldn't catch her breath, the corset was killing her. The moment I get home, I'm ripping this thing off! Governor Possible suddenly approached her; she turned to him looking quite wary.

"Ah, Kimberly, wasn't The Commodore fantastic? I knew he'd like that sword! You could tell he did, couldn't you?"

"Yes, you could Father, I-" Kimberly began, and grunted painfully. James seemed to notice.

"Kimberly, is everything all right?" he asked in worry.

"Well, actually, Father-" she began.

An elderly man suddenly tapped The Governor on the shoulder; he looked back at him quickly.

"James, if I could have a word please..." he muttered. The Governor nodded to him with a smile.

"Oh, of course!" he said. Governor walked away with him soon after.

"No, uh, Father!" Kimberly called, but he was gone again. Kimberly sighed, brushing back a loose hair. She didn't mean to complain, but if she didn't get back home soon, and remove the thing that was ailing her, something bad could happen! She knew that deprivation of air, at some point, would cause her to pass out, and the last she wanted was to fall over in the wrong place, namely here. She didn't really want to pass out at all, in fact.

A sudden tap on her shoulder, and Kimberly wheeled around. A man a few years older then herself stood there, smiling. He had dark, tan skin from his days at sea; dark blue eyes, and jet-black hair so slicked back it looked like a darker shaded part of his head. He was dressed in the British Royal Navy colors, with a Napoleon-styled hat; unlike the tricornes everyone else wore. He seemed pleased to see her.

"Junior," Kimberly wheezed, addressing Senior's only son as polite as she could, but sounded deathly short on breath from what she heard in her own ears. Junior didn't seem to notice, and grabbed Kimberly's hand gently.

"Miss Possible," he said gentlemanly, kissing her hand afterward. A double dose. She would've pulled her hand away, then brought it back, and slapped him with it, had she the power to do so. But she hadn't, so she let him finish, rolling her eyes ever so much. When he finally raised his head, he looked very joyous at Kimberly.

"Notice anything different?" he asked her curiously, like a child with a secret.

She looked at him, up and down, over and over again, but saw no change in the former Commodore's son, she continued to try a locate it.

Junior pointed up to his hat as a hint, grinning overwhelmingly. Kimberly looked at the hat, then at him, with a raised eyebrow.

"You got a new hat?" Kimberly asked slowly, not seeing this as a big change. Junior seemed a little disappointed, but continued to smile.

"No, better! I have been appointed to Lieutenant!" he squealed, very girlishly in fact.

Kimberly really hoped no one was looking, for Junior's sake. It took him eight years to become Lieutenant, when his father was at the top of his game by his first two. Pathetic, she inwardly thought. But her outward thoughts were very differing. She smiled at Junior proudly, and patted his arm in congratulations.

"Junior, that's wonderful!" she said, lying through her teeth, obviously. 'You're well on your way. I think you father would be very proud of you." In truth, Senior might have been proud of his son, despite the failure he was. Junior's father had only one son, and would probably pride him for whatever he did, and however badly he did it. The idea dawned on her that her own father was not even like that sometimes, and that bothered her.

"Oh, I hope he is!" Junior replied, looking out at the sky very sadly, but there was some brightness remaining in his voice. He sighed deeply, feeling a pang of grief hit him, and he lowered his head in remembrance. "I truly do," he added somberly.

Kimberly watched him, and, even though she had never liked Senior, suddenly felt very sorry for his son. He had lost his father at sixteen, and had been very close to him. His mother had died before that, so he was left with nothing but the Navy as his guide. He had become determined over the years to prove himself in his father footsteps, and with this story behind him, you could very well sympathize.

A sudden abrupt voice called Junior out from the crowd, most likely a friend or some other, Kimberly couldn't tell whom it was from that far away, but somehow Junior could. He broke from his silent moment and waved back, signaling that he would join him, then turned to Kimberly and bowed politely.

"It was nice talking with you, Miss Possible, thank you." he said sincerely, then with another quick bow, he raced off, leaving Kimberly filled with a strange feeling, almost guilty for thinking so badly of him, sorry for his grief and loss, and heartbroken that her own father could not respect her the way his did, or would.

She put one hand over her other, placing her fingers where his lips had touched, and caressed it carefully, almost lovingly. She then realized what she was doing, and recoiled, slightly disgusted. Me and Junior? Never! She thought, now taking her glove and wiping Junior's kiss away, turning around as she did so. Why does every man on this island feel the need to become attracted to me? Although it was unclear whether Junior was just a dumb gentleman, or a dumb guy who crushed on her, she was right. Every man there, or a number close, thought The Governor's daughter quite pretty. I mean, am I the only woman in Port Middleton? I should think not! There are plenty of young ladies out there, just like...

A woman her age faced her with a smile as Kimberly turned the other way again; she had golden blonde, curly hair and ice blue eyes. Her hair was twisted into a loose bun and her bright orange parasol, the coloring matching her dress, shadowed her face.

"Kimberly Anne!" the young woman exclaimed, grasping Kimberly in a tight hug, as if breathing hadn't been hard enough! She loosened her grip on the girl after a moment which the redhead thought would never end, then held her by the shoulders, forcing her into a chat, Kimberly was stuck. "It's so good to see you! Look at you, you look marvelous! Is that dress new?"

Kimberly might have been glad to see the girl, but her current predicament had diverted any feelings except pain, anger, and tension from her body. The young redhead merely replied:

"Oh, hello Tara, good to see you too. Yes, the dress is new, thank you for noticing." She grabbed at her chest, talking was painful now. Tara gazed carefully at her, then placed a hand on her own cheek.

"My, Kimberly. Are you completely well? You look rather pale, if you don't mind my saying." she replied gently. Kimberly placed a hand on her temple and sighed.

"No, actually, I have a problem," Kimberly began, trying yet again to pull the corset into a better position. She leaned in closer and whispered in Tara's ear. "Would you know how to fix a corset, because mine's-"

There was a cough, and the two looked up. Now the last thing Kimberly wanted was an interruption from talking with someone who might be able to help, but the person who interrupted made the situation ten times worse for the young girl. A man, a little older then them, maybe a couple years or so, with icy blue eyes like Tara's, short light blond hair hidden under a sea blue tricorne, and a sharp but kind face. Kimberly somewhat sneered back at Joshua Mankey, but tried her best to mask it. Mankey looked down at the girls with a simple smile.

"Ladies," The Commodore said with a smile, bowing. Tara curtsied back with a strange, awkward smile. Kimberly did her best, but it was a weird attempt, but it was more out of distaste then her corset. Josh looked to the redhead.

"May I have a moment?" He asked for a moment with her? Why was it always her? Kimberly heard the words of her father from that morning reel in her head. He fancies you, you know. Oh, that's why.

Kimberly looked to Tara for some hope of salvation. "Well, I was-" she began.

"Oh, you two go ahead," Tara objected, although their was some resistance in her eyes, "I'm going to go see what Mother is doing," the young blond took off before either could object her leaving, especially Kimberly. Because as much as she enjoyed talking with Commodore Mankey, she needed help with her corset, and soon!

Commodore Mankey led Kimberly to the platform of the battlement, from which they could see the ocean outstretching beyond the fort, and the ships floating, ported close by, some included the Dauntless and the Interceptor. He took her hand like a gentleman, and walked her to a stone lift; she nodded to him, a strange and rare thanks, for she could barely keep on her feet due to her lack of air. She climbed the rest of the way by herself, balancing against the wall with a knuckled hand, holding her unfolded fan tightly in it. When she was fully on the platform, she leaned against the wall, held her chest, and continued fanning herself. The sun began re-attacking her from that point, sweat beaded down her pretty forehead. Mankey climbed up easily, his hands behind his back, casual-like, because, unlike Kimberly, he was not wearing a corset.

He looked at her with a bright smile. She was too occupied to notice.

"Uh, you look lovely, Kimberly." he said awkwardly after a moment. Kimberly heard him, and although not in the mood to talk and in serious need of air, she smiled back at him as best she could, giggling to match, as if trying to sound flattered. She grabbed his chest in pain again, then fanned herself even more speedily. No feelings about Mankey, bad or good, mattered anymore, she had to get down from this platform and back home now!

Mankey looked out at the sea, took a deep breath, and spoke. "I, uh, apologize if I seem forward, but I must speak my mind." Kimberly tried to move the corset again as he spoke, only half listening. "This promotion throws into sharp relief that which I have not yet achieved." he looked back at Kimberly, obviously building up to something, obviously now having the courage to say why he'd always wanted to say.

"A marriage to a fine woman. You have become a fine woman, Kimberly." She heard that part, and looked up to him, wide eyed. This was too much! This was all just too much! That's when it all fell into place, the corset, the heat, Mankey; their collaborative workings today were too much for Kimberly to handle.

"I can't breathe," she said as loudly as possible, and trying to tell him, she really couldn't breathe.

"Yes, I'm a bit nervous myself." Commodore Mankey said, watching the ocean with deep eyes, paying Kimberly no real mind now. Trying to gather his own thoughts, carefully awaiting her answer.

A few more sharp breathes, and then Kimberly lost consciousness, as I said, it was all too much for her, and as she said, the lack of air would cause her to eventually faint. Eyes closed and lifeless, her limp body slipped off the battlement wall. During the plumet, her hat came undone and fluttered away, floating down onto the water.

Josh didn't notice a thing, but Tara watched from her hiding place from the other side of the battlement, in shock as the breathless girl hurtled toward the ocean. It was a good thing she had been there to listen in on their conversation.

--

"...And then they made me their chief." the stranger finished his story and shrugged. Hector and Melvin leaned against the side of the Interceptor, listening with interest. They suddenly turned toward the ocean at the splash of a woman's body hitting the water. The stranger looked to the two soldiers quickly.

--

The Commodore turned back around, only to find no Kimberly Possible. Alarmed, he began looking about the battlement. "Kimberly?" he called, turning this way and that. Tara raced up to the platform, frantic and panicked, she pointed to the waters.

"Commodore Mankey, look!" Tara was more scared then she'd ever been. Although Kimberly and she had never been more close acquaintances, she worried for the girl's life, and would even risk her appearance in the eyes of The Commodore because of it (he might become suspicious of how she knew Kimberly fell or why she'd shown up so quickly.)

The two looked down in unison. The waters were disturbed, bubbling, white and rough, and Kimberly's body was sinking below the surface of the waves. It was shallow where she'd fallen, but that didn't change the fact that she was drowning. The young Commodore's eyes bulged.

"Kimberly!" he shouted, and quickly began removing his coat, as if to dive after her. He was right there the whole time! And she'd fallen, or jumped (perhaps because of his proposal), all when his back was turned. How could he let this happen? He felt as though she was his responsibly right now, and he had to save her! His left arm was out of the sleeve when Tara grabbed it. He turned to her with surprise.

"Josh! The rocks! It's a miracle she missed them!" they both looked back down, and realized Tara was right, they had to find another way, or risk two people dying in those waters. They looked back down at the ocean; the young aristocrat was no longer visible. They exchanged nervous looks before Mankey spoke and told Tara to go get help, and that he'd be right behind her. The blonde girl nodded back to him quickly, then raced into the ceremony, shouting and screaming, frantic for the people's attention. Commodore Mankey pulled back on his coat, and looked back at the waters with a most worry filled expression. His whole future was supposed to revolve around that day, but instead it was sinking, sinking like a badly built ship. He best go help Tara, rally the troupes, anything! They had to get down to Kimberly Anne Possible before she drowned!

--

The stranger looked from over the Interceptor's rail at the distant water where he'd just seen a young woman fall, and his calm attitude faded somewhat. He watched as people on the battlement franticly pointed down to the troubled waters and gasped and screamed, a man he presumed as the governor of the town looked very distressed from his point. The stranger sighed somberly. Even if those people had some course of action planned, by means of rescue, they could never reach her in time. She'd be long dead when they finally got down to the waters. The only ones who could get to her in time were those down at the dock, and, it appeared that, the only ones aware of this predicament were the two young soldiers, and himself. His eyes never leaving that spot in the water, he spoke.

"Will you be saving her then?" the stranger asked to both soldiers, who stood on either side of him, looking much more uneasy then he did. Hector looked up at the stranger, and grasped his musket tighter, as if for comfort, and answered first.

"I can't swim!" he admitted shakily, then looked back out. The stranger turned to him disbelievingly, then stared at Melvin, who looked surprised, then shook his head shamefully and quickly, for the same reasons as Hector.

The stranger rolled his eyes. "Pride of the King's Navy you are." he commented to the both of them. This meant he was the only one left, and he so hated having to be the hero. But without another thought, he ripped off his coat and handed it to Hector.

"Do not lose this!" he told him sternly, he then tore off his cutlass, pistol, shoulder sash, and finally, his hat, and divided them up between the two soldiers. Then, with a quick movement, he climbed up onto the railing by grabbing the rigging, then gracefully dived off the ship, plunging into the water like a torpedo.

--

Not far from him, Kimberly was sinking, sinking down. Since she was already deprived of air when she fell, drowning would be all too easy once she was underwater long enough. Her red hair came out of its tight bun and floated around her face, then the pirate medallion strangely came loose from the place in her dress. The coin spun demonically in the waters, an evil shine coming off of it, almost as though it had a mind of its own. Hanging from the neck of its near dead possessor, the face looked to the surface, and the coin pulsed, a strange, supernatural throb, like the beating of an invisible drum. The blue waters around it pulsed as well, and it made its way to the surface.

--

Hector and Melvin were looking down over the railing, watching for the stranger's return, when a surge jumped out from the water. It wasn't something physical, you could never have seen it, but both soldiers felt it go straight through them and sail over the ocean. Melvin turned to his friend with wide eyes; Hector looked him as well, holding the stranger's old brown coat over his shoulder.

"What was that?" Melvin asked softly. Hector shrugged, unsure of the strange feeling himself.

The once still British flag that hung on the mast of the Interceptor was picked up by sudden, bizarre, unexplained winds, it blew in from the east, causing the flag to fly backward and whip against the mast. Upon hearing the slapping sound, Hector and Melvin looked up, startled by the sudden gust on such a hot and still day. It was most peculiar. The winds became stronger in a split-second, pushing the young soldiers back a ways and having them hold their hats on their heads. The flag completely unfurled backwards and was ripped straight off the mast, fluttering away from the Interceptor, caught in the winds brought on by a most curious weather change.

The skies suddenly went from blue and clear to black and cloudy much quicker then thought naturally possible, casting a most dark shadow over Port Middleton and nearly blowing the island off the map with her winds. Everywhere you went, people held their hats on, animals seemed tense and flustered, dust and papers were picked up from the ground and thrown about. At the cove, the skeletal remains of the hanged pirates rattled together. And at the ceremony, the small group of musicians tried their best to play while keeping their powdered wigs on their heads. The people looked out at the oncoming bad weather with surprise, for it had been sunny and dry just moments ago. A white parasol was torn from a woman's hand, and sent rolling across the ground.

The worst had begun.

--

The stranger swam deeper and deeper down, keeping an eye open for the sinking woman, this was harder underwater then it would have been on land, so this required looking extra carefully. Now he could hold his breath for quite some time, but he had to reach her soon, she'd been under for almost two minutes now, and her chances of survival were slimming very quickly. He knew, he been through this before. It wasn't like he'd never dived in after a drowning woman, but really hoped this time would be the last. It was a very tiresome job.

A sudden blur of red five feet below him, caught his eye, diverting his thoughts from the past.

There she was. She was young, no more then her twenties, with pretty red hair and a nice face. Her hair was loose and floating almost deathly. The salty, blue waters made her yellow dress look sickly green. She reminded him of another redhead he knew, he couldn't place why though. She was much better looking then- The stranger shook his head from his thoughts, waving them out into the water. That wasn't important now. The girl sinking fast, and unconscious. She would be dead very soon.

Another powerful kick from his legs, and he took after her. At the speed his was going, he should've been able to catch up soon.

Kimberly's body hit the sandy ocean floor; causing her bottom half to bounce and her skirts to float up, then settle with the rest of her body. The medallion rested on her chest, gleaming strangely, as it never had before. The sands stirred by her settled as well. All was very still, for a moment.

The stranger reached her seconds later, swimming down to the sands below with the gracefulness of a sea creature and grabbing her around the chest and arms, pushing the medallion to her side, stopping its call.

Once he had her firmly in his grasp, he launched himself back up, heading for the surface.

Because of Kimberly and the fact that she proved to be no help, the trip up was slower then the one down, but as I said before, the waters were shallow there, so it took him less then a minute to breach the surface, gasping and sputtering and spitting out water. One arm wrapped around Kimberly, who was at his left side, arm on his shoulder, the other he used to swim.

He had not even caught his breath when felt himself being dragged back under. He tried to keep afloat with his free hand, but after swimming several feet, he went under again, so quickly that he gurgled water somewhat before he could hold his breath. He then realized what was dragging them down, the girl's dress. It had soaked up so much water; it was acting as extra weight.

He quickly moved from her a bit, and she tried floating off again, but he was faster. He looked down at her chest, then grabbed the front of her dress, left side, and ripped it open, revealing her under dress. He then managed to tear the yellow dress off the rest of the way, separating it from the girl. It drifted away from the pair. The stranger, now able to carry Kimberly up, grabbed her again and swam back up to the surface.

--

As the stormy weather rolled in over the ocean, Commodore Mankey and a platoon of Royal Navy soldiers were finally making their way to the docks, in a hurry too, Mankey was leading them. He was ready to save Kimberly now, but what he was about to find out was that she'd already been saved.

--

The stranger emerged from the waters between the Interceptor and the dock with Kimberly now over his shoulder, feeling very tired out after a near tragic rescue, but they weren't out of the woods just yet. He grabbed onto the ladder that trailed off the dock and began pulling himself up. Hector and Melvin, who had both seen him surface, raced down from the Interceptor and, instead of helping him up, helped him get Kimberly onto the dock. They pulled the young girl off his shoulder together, each holding a side of her limp body, they lowered her down as gently as they could.

"I got her," grunted Hector before helping Melvin set her on the wooden planks of the dock. Her head fell limply, her eyes remained closed. She was sopping wet, her bright red, fluffy hair was now dark and straightened out in stringy clumps. Her under dress was soaked with water, but luckily was not as heavy as her yellow dress, nor was it lightly layered, so she was well covered. Hector checked her nose and mouth.

"She not breathing!" he exclaimed, now somewhat nerve-wrecked. Melvin showed to have the same feelings.

"Move!" the stranger called. He climbed up the rest of the way and pushed between the two, kneeling at the side of Kimberly. He seemingly pulled a knife from nowhere and sliced the blade over the front of her corset. He then threw the knife aside and pulled open the tight clothing. With room in her lungs, Kimberly could breathe again. Her eyes shot open and she began coughing up water violently, in shock and not sure where she was. The stranger tore the corset away and handed it to a befuddled Melvin, who scrambled it around in his hands before getting a firm grasp. Hector looked down in amazement at the action the stranger had taken.

"Never would've thought of that." he remarked. The stranger looked at him with a tired-but proud-expression, water dripping from his nose.

"Clearly you've never been to Singapore." he replied. Hector gazed at him strangely, to which the stranger was about to break into another story, when the sound of footsteps approaching the dock alerted them. The stranger didn't hear it though, he had looked down at Kimberly, as to make sure she was still okay, and she was, breathing profoundly, drinking in the life she thought she wouldn't see again.

And then he saw the medallion, draped across the shoulder of her undergarment, looking very innocent and normal now. He slowly, carefully reached down and picked up the small coin in his fingers. Kimberly, now regaining her thoughts, looked up at the pirate medallion, then at him, and gazed blurrily. The stranger looked upon the fine details of the medallion, then looked down to Kimberly in shocked surprise, he'd never thought he'd see this again, much less here and in the possession of a woman he'd just saved from drowning.

"Where did you get that?" he asked her quietly, wide eyed.

Before Kimberly could even compose a thought of answering, there was a strange, high clang, and the stranger looked up, finding himself face to face with the sharp point of a sword, Commodore Mankey holding it at his nose.

He looked quite angry and fearless, surrounded by seven, or more, British Royal Navy soldiers, not including Hector and Melvin, all carrying muskets. The stranger was taken aback. There was an intense, quiet moment between the two; he thought The Commodore might run him through right then and there. But the young Joshua Mankey, never calming down one bit, lowered his sword a little, but only so that it still posed a threat.

"On your feet," he ordered the stranger brutally, by the tone of his voice, the stranger could tell that was an order and he was no joke. Without another thought of it, he slowly rose from the ground, guiding the sword point with his hand as The Commodore followed him with it.

Kimberly watched drowsy eyed from the dock, if she'd had the strength, she would've kicked The Commodore right there, right over the dock; he was being box-minded and black and white again. He didn't understand! If she could just have a moment to explain-

A familiar voice called her name through the crowd of soldiers, desperately trying to get to her.

"Kimberly!" Governor Possible channeled through a sea of tricornes and muskets, and ran to his daughter, Kimberly watched. And now he pays attention to me, she thought jadedly. The Governor raced up next to the dazed young woman, taking her by the hand and helping her up. She stood shakily, but quickly, trying to regain her footing. He quickly removed his coat and set over his arm. Kimberly wasn't watching him though, or even hugging him as he had expected. She grabbed at her medallion swiftly, but it slipped in her wet hands the first time.

"Are you all right?" he asked, the words barely made it into her ears, but Kimberly heard him, still trying to hold her medallion closer to her person.

"Yes, I'm fine," she replied quickly, now trying to look back at the stranger, searching for answers to why he recognized her medallion. But he had turned away from her, not daring to look her in the eyes again while the commodore of the Royal Navy had a sword pointed at his person, or around her father, who had began to pull his coat over her shoulders.

This was all very strange, waking up on the dock, nearly drowning, and then this, this outlandish discovery of her rescuer's knowledge of her medallion, of which she had stolen from her best friend many years ago. Kimberly couldn't help but think, This is just too weird!

Governor Possible adjusted his coat over Kimberly's shoulders, trying to comfort her and warm her, as a father should, but saw that she hadn't really notice him or anything he was doing, she hadn't even embraced him like she always did. She was paying attention to something else other then him right now. One was the necklace that hung around her neck, a strange, medallion of sorts, where'd she get that? He'd never seen it before.

Two was the convict seen dragging Kimberly from the watery grave she could've very well faced. James looked at him, and didn't know what to think of the man, so scruffy-looking and ragged; most likely a thief of some sort, yet he had just saved his daughter. James thought about it, there had to be some good in him if he were to risk drowning himself to save a girl he did not know, even if he was a thief. Maybe The Commodore was overreacting after all. But James' open-mindedness was about to be changed.

He looked over to the stranger, as if to thank him for his bravery, but instead, saw Melvin, standing next to the hero, looking rather natural, but relived that he had not been the witness of a dead woman, and he was holding Kimberly's corset up in both hands, he still had it! The Governor's eyes widened warningly, filled with as much anger and horror as a father could muster. Melvin saw this and, suddenly frightened that The Governor thought the gallows a rather reasonable punishment for his non-existent misdeeds toward Kimberly. He threw the corset down quickly, discarding it like a deadly snake, then pointed to the stranger, happy to toss the blame to someone else, even though said party was guiltless of said crime. The stranger saw this and gazed at him in surprise.

The Governor fluffed out his coat and draped it on Kimberly, infuriated, the fires of Davy Jones' Locker burning in his eyes. "Shoot him!" he exclaimed to The Commodore, who was already prepared to kill. Kimberly felt a shock wave run down her spine. No!

"Father!" she said, and grabbed her father's shirt collar gently, pulling for his attention like a child. He quickly looked back down at an upset and slightly enraged face.

"Wha-?" James was confused, why was she stopping him? She should want him dead as well.

Kimberly didn't think to answer him, but turned to Commodore Mankey, whose sword point had drifted to the stranger's neck. She had a very solemn, serious look on her face as she spoke. "Commodore," she said, her father holding her by the arms protectively, she almost looked as though she would push him away, "do you really intend to kill my rescuer?"

Mankey heard her every word, but refused to move for a second. Despite his rage, he knew she was right, this man had saved her, he had done what Joshua would've never been able to do in time. But he was only trying to protect her, after all, she looked as though she were in a very delicate position when he had arrived, half dead, stripped down to her unmentionables, with three men, two of which were his own officers, standing around her. He had expected her to be dead, or hurt, but it was apparent, that was not the case. He still deeply resented this man, this stranger, something gave him such a deep feeling of distrust, and he could very well root it, because inwardly, he was not fond of the idea that this wretched man had been the savior of Kimberly, and not himself.

Kimberly, seeing his resistance to her orders, stared him down a bit. Although she really had no authority over him, she was a very persistent girl, and The Commodore knew it. He knew she would not stop until this man was free to walk away from this scene without one scratch. He could at least do her this honor, show her that he had more compassion then she believed, hopefully.

After a moment, he slid his sword back into its sheath, then nodded to his men, and they all raised their guns from the stranger, a bit taken aback that their new Commodore was doing such a act as of which he had done. Governor Possible looked at him in surprise, with the same notion in his mind. The stranger, on the other hand, turned to a pleased, yet still serious, Kimberly, placed his hands together, and nodded thanks to her. She looked back at him with a smile.

Mankey walked forward a bit, and to the surprise of everyone, outstretched his hand to the stranger.

"I believe thanks are in order," he said with a strange, but unusually warm, smile. The Governor smirked at the act, amused. Kimberly was a bit more surprised then she should have been by The Commodore's sudden kind act to a person he had just wanted to kill. Sudden kindness to a convicted man? From Mankey? Wait a minute... oh no, she thought, but he was too quick for her to react.

The stranger was careful, reclusive at first, as if he had sensed what Kimberly had sensed, but the feeling quickly passed. Maybe this chap wasn't so bad after all.

He slowly reached out and shook Mankey's hand, but before he could do so properly, the young Commodore grabbed the stranger's wrist, pulled him forward, and ripped his sleeve up, revealing a 'P' that rested on his wrist. Pinkish, bare skin centered inside the letter, while the rest of his arm was tanned dark and hairy, it looked as though it had been branded onto him with a hot iron. Anyone who reached this conclusion squirmed a bit right then, it sounded too painful for anyone to speak of it.

The stranger looked down at the spot with surprise, amazed that the young man had known of the insignia some were branded with by some who believed it to be fitting, not many knew of it. The Commodore didn't let go of him.

"Had a brush with the East India Trading Company, pirate?" he asked, adding much flavor on his last word. The stranger flinched a bit at being called this, or was it because The Commodore was gripping his arm too tightly? Kimberly couldn't tell which.

How conniving of him! How could he know that this man was a... a pirate. A real live pirate had saved her life. Now the day was just too weird!

The men all re-raised their guns when this so darkly said term was called out to the stranger. The Governor held Kimberly closer, his fear for her now truly ignited. There hadn't been a pirate in Port Middleton, not caught, for over two months, and that wasn't about to change.

"Hang him." he said very nervously, but as calmly as he could.

Kimberly looked up at her father in horror. Then at the stranger, whose wrist The Commodore still had, obviously restraining him. She didn't know what to say to this! How could he? How could Father do this? To say such things about the man who had just saved her life, unbelievable! It seemed as though the only people she could trust in this town were Ron, and the pirate. Or that's what it felt like to her.

"Keep your guns on him, men," The Commodore ordered the Navy soldiers, who were all readied with muskets lowered at the man. Mankey looked over his shoulder at the second in command, who stood proudly, watching in awe at the pirate's unmasking, so to speak. He raised his head at The Commodore when he heard his last name called.

"Senior, fetch some irons." the strapping young man nodded to The Commodore in respect.

"Aye aye, sir," he replied and laughed, using a bit of pirate humor, but it was lost to his commanding officer. Pale with embarrassment, he rushed off to get a pair of manacles, as ordered.

The young Commodore looked back at the stranger, his eyes fervidly filled with coldness. This was unusual for him, despite popular belief, but his almost vengeful attitude toward the stranger, discrete dislike of pirates, and loyalty to The Crown, was taking a toll on him. And he wanted more still. Make this blackheart suffer! He shifted the man's sleeve up even farther, as if to find some hidden weapon or lowly battle scar, but instead, came to something much different, very interesting, and what he wanted no less.

A tattoo had been beautifully placed right above the stranger's pirate brand, an elegant one too. It depicted a sunset, bright and big in all its darkly colored glory. And flying into the sunset was a small, glossy, and slightly meek looking bird, the same color as the sun. A sparrow, The Commodore noted, remembering that each convicted pirate can be recognized by the tattoo on their fore wrist. He smirked at the stranger.

"Well, Jack Sparrow, isn't it?" he asked mockingly, looking at the tattoo with almost surprise. Kimberly listened from her father's arms and nearly grasped, that name! Jack Sparrow..., she thought, remembering the stories well. The stranger, or Jack, as we will refer to him from now on, finally pulled his wrist away sharply, and looked at The Commodore with the most mocking respect ever.

"Captain Jack Sparrow," Jack said in a calm tone, "If you please, sir."

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Author's Note.

Yes, I know, way too much like the movie and way too long, it was going be longer, but I had to cut the chapter in two. But, let's remember, I'm building the story up, things will get better as we get farther into this. So sue me! Anything you may have found, grammar, spelling, etc., please inform me, and I shall fix it thoroughly.

For those of you that read the story within its first week, I found I made a slight mistake in one of my author notes in the first chapter (which has been proofread and edited accordingly for those who want to know), because at first, I was gonna make Drakken the Barbossa of the story and made slight references to it, but I said I didn't in the final note (sort of) But, thanks to reviewers and proofreading, I changed Drakken's role and found ways to adjust it (In a way, I made the best out of a careless error), so Barbossa is the villain in this once more. Sorry if anyone was and is confused by this.

Flaw 2# Chapter 1#: Barbossa, in the final scene, is mentioned to have a compass in his hand. I was trying to say 'divider' instead, a tool that is used in Dead Man's Chest by Jack. It's called both a compass and a divider and is correct both ways, but it can be confused with the other kind of compass for those who don't know this. Sorry for confusion this may have caused as well.

Another flaw, but a little more amusing, is that Kimberly mentioned Blackbeard, when Blackbeard didn't become a known pirate 'till 1716, several decades after this story. This has also been adjusted.

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For those who didn't catch it, I put a small Easter egg in the last chapter with the cameo of two minor K.P characters, Fukushima (Exchange) and Philippe Boullion (Animal Attraction), check it out! Great job to Josh84 for guessing! And look for more in the future (cough: there were a couple in this chapter: cough)! Hint: Look for the butler, the Possible's old horse, Ron's donkey, the harbormaster's assistant, and the two bumbling soldiers.

In the last several weeks, I've been doing some extensive pirate reading and online research for the story, and have found some very, very interesting ideas in it! Books read include The Mammoth Book of Pirates, edited by Jon E. Lewis, and Pirateology by Captain William Lubber, I have also read the first four books of the Young Jack Sparrow series Disney started not long after the second movie.

PoTC fans, I highly recommend you read these books, although short and on a low reading level (9-12, give or take) the stories are very good and the characters, as loveable and believable as the movie's. I did reference to it in this chapter. You may have caught it, or maybe you didn't. Either way...

On a final note, I do believe this will be one of my best stories from what I have planned, but thanks to DuffKilliganFan, and my mother, I was reminded to make changes from Pirates of The Caribbean when necessary. So, although this will be loyal to script, I will add things for better story flow, and for the appearances of characters like Shego, Mrs. Possible, and Jim and Tim, who will show up later on, much like Tara's appearance.

Many thanks and boxes of digital cookies to Mary Grayson's Little Robin, Cylon One, FAH3, Anon, daywalkr82, surfrost, DuffKilliganFan, Ace Ian Combat, Invader Johnny, Josh84, Arya SliverFlame, ChildlikeGhost, chocoholic1, dartblade, and Darth Comrade, whose review was sadly lost in the stupid update dent (no worries, though, I got it though the email alert). Thanks for making the writing of this chapter ten times easier, guys! I'd also like to thank and give cookies to all of the silent readers out there, you guys rock!

Next Chapter: A Hostile 'Sitch'utation.