A/N Glad you all liked the last chapter, and thought I kept Jack in character. Thanks for all the reviews!! ^_^

Chapter Twelve.

Annamaria stayed huddled up in that position for a long time, her arms wrapped around her scrawny knees. In fact she was there so long that the muscles in her legs began to ache, and she desperately desired to stretch out. But her heart stopped, and her breath quickened at the tiniest of sounds, and she dared not move an inch.

Eventually her eyes began to shut, her droopy lids fell softly over her sight, and she gently drifted into sleep, underneath the dusty, rag covered table.

She was awakened rather rudely by someone poking her. "Oy!" Came a voice.

Her eyes adjusted quickly to the darkness and she managed to make out the figure that knelt before her. She struggled however to remember his name. So rather then embarrass herself she just stared blankly at him.

"C'mon!" He said, urgently, grabbing hold of her cold hand and pulling her out. Her legs felt tight as she tried to stand up, Jack steadied her with his hand at her elbow.

The room was swallowed by darkness, and fear began to take her once more. "What's going on?" she demanded suspiciously. Maybe this boy worked for Tobias, she shivered at the thought.

"It's night time, silly!" The boy laughed. "The ol' red coats are gone."

"Where's the reverend?" She asked, looking round expecting to see him. At least then she could hear the end of her father's story. After all she hadn't even been told his name.

He studied his grimy nails for a few seconds before answering. "I dunno, and tha's the truth."

"The truth? I don't even know who you are."

He grinned. "Told yer, Jack Sparrow."

She shook her head. "I don't mean your name. Everyone has a name, and yours means nothing to me." She told him.

"It will one day."

"I beg your pardon?"

He pulled her closer. "I'm gonna be a legend on the seas, Jack Sparrow will be a name spoken wit' dread."

She smiled, softly to herself, but then remembering her predicament almost brought tears to her eyes. "What are we going to do?" She asked, but when she didn't get a reply she tried another line of questioning. "Where is your mother?"

"My mother?" He exclaimed in surprise. "Died years ago."

"Then that woman. . ."

He grinned. "She ain't my mother. Likes to think so, though."

"Then who. . ."

He just shook his head in an obstinate fashion. He took hold of her hand and led her to the door. He pushed it open and the two crept out into the passage way. The church was eerily silent at night, and the grotesque shadows that lined the walls cause Annamaria to close her eyes in fright.

"S'ok." He muttered, almost to himself.

"Jack!" She said, tugging on his hand.

"What?" He hissed.

"You're going the wrong way! The vestry is this way, the other doors will never be open." She said, trying to pull him to a stop.

"Ah, but we're not going to the vestry, at least not yet!" He said.

"What? Why? You don't make any sense."

"You'll see." Was the only reply he would give her. "It's all about timing," he said, speaking once more to himself.

She gave up trying to change his course, and settled on following his lead and trying to determine what he was up to. Her head was full of thoughts of her father, and either though he was dead, she felt like a part of her was now complete. And in the blackness she clutched her golden cross, and fingered the one remaining stone.

He led her down the aisles, weaving his way between the benches, and prayer book stands laid out for the next morning's sermon. Past the purple velvet curtain that hid the organ from view, and through to the back rooms; the reverend's personal apartments.

"There's nothing in here." she said, in surprise.

He just smirked. "Just you wait an' see, luv."

"Love?" She had never heard the word used in such context before. To her it had always been what she felt for Harriet.

He led her into a another room, which was locked but the key was hanging on the side.

"Pointless locking the door if you're going to hang the key next to it." He said, with a snigger as he clicked it into place in the lock.

"What are you doing?" she hissed at him, as he swung open the door. She didn't know what was behind the door, and though eager to find out, felt sure what they were doing was wrong.

"This is breaking and entering." She whispered.

"Nonsense we were already inside. We didn't break nothin'." He told her, as the stepped into the room. And by the dim candle light Annamaria could make out the glittering form of the Virgin Mary as she stood towering above them, made from pure gold. And around her feet lay thousands of glittering gems, and jewels, golden crosses, rings, brooches, many with no religious connections.

"We shouldn't be in here." Annamaria said, backing away.

But Jack didn't heed her words. He was kneeling down, fingering the gold, examining and calculating it's worth.

"No!" she said, suddenly realising. "You cannot steal from the church! You cannot steal from the reverend."

She lunged at him, to distract his calculations scattering a pearl necklace across the room. He pushed her to the ground in annoyance. "I'm not stealing, this doesn't belong to the church, they stole it in the first place!" He yelled, towering above her.

"What are you talking about?" She snivelled.

A noise from the other room made them both jump. "Just a rat." He sighed.

But that made Annamaria look even more worried. "Jack!" She hissed.

He grabbed her shoulders, and held his hand to her mouth. "Shut up!"

And then it came to her. "You! You and that woman! You came here on purpose just to steal from the reverend! Well, I won't let you!" She screeched.

He just ignored her, and carried on collecting the jewels. She screeched once more, but he didn't reply. She began to get frustrated. "Right, well, I'm going then, I won't have any part in your evil plans! You can go to hell on your own!"

She turned and made to walk out of the room.

Jack stopped her. "Anna," He said, almost softly, as though he was talking to someone much younger then him. "This doesn't belong to the church."

"It doesn't belong to you." She said, sullenly.

There was a loud crashing noise as the doors were flung open. A group of men marched into the church, their rifles held sternly by their sides. Jack flung Annamaria aside and ran to the door.

"Red coats! We have to get outta here."

"What about the reverend?" Annamaria persisted.

"Told yer!" He scooped up a collection of treasures, and pushed her through the door. They remained hidden until the red coats left the front room, then Jack led Anna across the room and out through the open doors.

She pulled on his sleeve once out in the open. "What are we going to do?"

"We?" He exclaimed. "I think you should trundle along home."

Annamaria stared at him indignantly. "If they ask who stole the jewels, I'll tell them."

He grabbed her. "Word of advise, don't dig your own grave." And with that he walked off, leaving the girl both confused and angry.