Author's Note: Thank you for continuing to read and review. I'm trying to update frequently, but with my writer's block and being an engineering student, it's kinda tough. This chapter was tough to write. I'm terrible at dialogue, and in order to replicate Jack I find myself reading Jack's lines aloud to my computer.

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            Adriana took a sip from the bottle nearly equal to Jack's. She was curious as to what he was up to. It was a few hours past midday, which Adriana deemed a bit too early to be getting drunk. Didn't he have some captain-ly duties to attend to?

            "What do you do for fun on this boat?" she asked, taking another sip of rum.

            "Ship," he corrected her. "The proper term for 'er is 'ship.' Mainly we just fritter away our time 'til there's pilfering, pillaging, and plundering to be done."

            "Oh." She passed the bottle across the table to him, and couldn't help but wonder when he was going to 'plunder' her.

            "Where did ye say ye were from, again?"

            "I didn't say," she paused to think. "I'm originally from New York." She desperately hoped that New York wasn't still New Amsterdam.

            "You're an awful long ways from home." Once again, Jack took a huge swallow of rum.

            "I know," Adriana was surprised at the sadness in her voice. She missed the city terribly.

            "How did ye get here?" Jack leaned forward and stared at Adriana intently as she took another sip of rum.

            "By boat," she lied.

            "Ye sailed a boat, all by your onsies, to the Isle de Muerta?" Jack stared at her in disbelief.

            "Not there. Just to the Caribbean. And I didn't sail it. Then I got lost and wound up on your island," Adriana put the rum down, and let it slide with the motion of the waves across the table to Jack.

            "Ye got lost?" Jack was getting angry again.

            "Yes," she stared back at Jack. The resentment on his face was unmistakable. "I already told you this. Why are you asking me again?"

            He drained the bottle and set it down with a forceful thud. His black eyes flicked across her face; she was obviously distressed by his interrogation. Was it because she was hiding something, or was she just afraid of what he could do to her, or perhaps a little of both? He licked his lips as his mind wandered, imagining what he could do to her. He couldn't forget the sight he stole of her soft curves.

            "Why are you asking me again?" she repeated her question.

            "Because I don't think you're being entirely truthful with me, missy. And I won't tolerate your deception on my ship," his words were clipped with anger.

            "Then take me back to the island where you found me!" Adriana stood up to punctuate her outburst.

            "Why?" Jack stood up, his fists clenched.

            "Because I just want to go home. I'm sick of your moldy food, I'm sick of your rickety boat, I'm sick of being smelly, and I'm sick of your stupid questions!" She crossed her arms across her chest and glowered at him.

            "My rickety boat!" He shook his fist at her, nearly at a loss for words. Her insult had wounded him deeply. "I'll have ye know the Pearl's the fastest ship in the Caribbean!"

He simply stood and glared back at her, his fist still shaking. He could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears; silence had engulfed the whole ship. It seemed that even the crew on deck held their collective breath, waiting to hear who spoke the next word.

Finally, he spoke, "How do ye expect to get home from the Isle de Muerta? Ye said yourself ye were lost."

            "I don't know," she sighed. "There might be some clues there. It's worth a shot."

            "But there might not be any clues there either. And then where would ye be?" He didn't wait for her answer. "How about I just take ye ashore on some populated island, so ye can make arrangements for your return there?"

            Adriana muttered something that Jack was unable to completely decipher, but he distinctly heard "time machine."

            "What did you say?"

            "Nothing," she sulkily sat back down.

            Jack couldn't stand it anymore; he left the cabin to go find some more rum. Jack's boots drummed irritably on the deck of the ship. Damn that woman! She was so infuriating! None of his men spoke to him as he stormed past. No doubt the lot of them knew what was going on; they gossiped as much as women. He prowled around below decks, muttering about Adriana. Obviously, she needed more rum to loosen her lips. After minimal searching, he found some more rum in one of the holds.

            While Jack was off questing for some rum, Adriana stood up and stole a glance out the cabin door to see if he really was gone. As she paced across the room, she wasn't looking forward to his return. Her brilliant plan of gentle persuasion had ceased to exist. She just had to be such a terrible liar, and she just had to lose her temper with him. Why couldn't he have just accepted her half-assed excuse for being in that stupid cave?

            The doors to the cabin clattered open, and Jack entered with his usual swagger, a bottle of rum in each hand.

            "One for you, one for me. Savvy?" He handed Adriana a bottle, and then seated himself at the head of the table with his feet propped up on the tabletop. He watched her as she uncorked the bottle and sat down.

            "Shouldn't you be attending to your captain-ly duties?"

            "Me crew's quite capable of handlin' the Pearl for now. Besides, your company is much more pleasurable." Jack grinned at her, mischief dancing behind his eyes.

            Adriana smiled insincerely in response to Jack's complement. Now he was trying to sweet-talk her. She decided to play along with his game, just to see what his intentions were. "Why don't you tell me a little about yourself, Captain Sparrow? It's been rude of me to do all the talking."

            With that, Jacks eyes lit up. If there was one thing he might have cherished more than his beloved Black Pearl, it might have been recounting any one of his numerous adventures. Jack began his tale. It was all about him, naturally, and he was doing something most spectacular.

            Adriana found herself relaxing. Jack's voice had a wonderful cadence, well suited to storytelling. It was obvious that the story was well-rehearsed and quite exaggerated. As the story progressed, Jack stood up, his bottle of rum still in hand, and began acting out bits of the story. Adriana only giggled at first, but soon was laughing so hard tears squeezed out of the corners of her eyes. Jack took a bow at the conclusion of his story, and Adriana clutched at her stomach.

            "That… di… didn't… really… happen… did it?" Adriana gasped between fits of laughter.

            "Of course it did." Jack looked slightly offended, but his mouth was still curled up in a smirk.

            "But it's so… unbelievable."

            "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, luv, of course it's going to be unbelievable." Jack's eyes glinted mischievously. Perhaps by awing her with his pirate prowess, he could charm the truth out of her.

            Adriana felt the ship shudder slightly, as if an unseen hand reached down from the sky and pushed the boat faster through the water. Jack looked around, slightly confused due to the amount of rum he had consumed; then poked his head out of the cabin's doors onto the deck. He glanced around, and after determining nothing was significantly amiss, returned his attention to Adriana.

            "Now that you've heard one of my stories, how about ye tell me one of yours?" Jack sat down next to Adriana, and propped his chin up on the heel of his left hand, his tankard of rum still in his right.

            "I'm afraid that your story has made me realize how dull and boring my life really is, and any story I try to tell will be terrible." Adriana was embarrassed; she wasn't expecting Jack to request a story from her. Besides, there weren't any she could tell Jack, without betraying her 21st century origins. What would he do to her if he knew she was a time-traveling freak?

            "Come now, luv, there's got to be something exciting enough to merit a tale." Jack leaned closer to her; she could feel the heat radiating off his body and with each breath a faint whiff of rum floated in her direction.

            "No," she shook her head, avoiding his eyes. "There's nothing worth talking about. Why don't you tell me another one of yours?"

            "It's your turn luv," he watched her as she took a long drink from her bottle of rum. "What about the one where ye wound up on an island full of cursed treasure?"

            "What?" Adriana was confused. "Cursed? Wait just one minute, Captain. You're just trying to get me to tell you once again how I got on that island. I told you already, I don't know!"

            Jack scrutinized her reaction. He realized he had slipped with the mention of cursed treasure. He had to come up with some way of explaining it without making himself look bad. He didn't like to own up to the fact that that bastard Barbossa had mutinied and left him for dead.

            "Tell me more about this 'cursed' treasure," she leaned forward, clearly interested.

            "If I tell ye, I'll have to kill ye."

            The doors to the cabin burst open, and a flushed Mr. Gibbs entered.

            "Captain, there's a ship comin' up fast on th' starboard side. I think ye better have a look."

            Jack stood and faced Adriana. "You stay right there. Don't move 'til I come back." He no longer seemed the drunken rouge of just minutes ago; he was now a cold, hard, calculating pirate.