A/N: So I couldn't resist. We're going to be exploring the history of the Sparrow family, from the very beginning. This will be a series of oneshots, but they'll be going in chronological order. Reviews are greatly appreciated and I will return love with love. Also, first one to spot any sort of Doctor Who reference in this at all gets cookies. I'll update as often as possible but since my laptop is on the fritz we'll see how well that goes.

Chapter Two

Rum's Good For The Heart

The tavern was warm and pleasantly crowded. A band played a cheerful tune from the corner and plenty of laughter rose from various tables. It wasn't the type of seedy pub Jack and his father usually chose; there were few if any unsavories and the tables and dishes were all clean. This was plain to see because every corner was well-lit. It was a weird sort of place, Jack decided immediately.

Captain Teague steered his son to a table by the wall and nodded to the waitress. She was a pretty thing, all smiles and bounciness and tossing her long blonde hair over her shoulder to laugh along with her inebriated customers. She nodded back to the captain and motioned that she'd be with them in a moment. Jack didn't notice; he was still nursing a broken heart over Angelica. Well, less a broken heart and more guilt over leaving her without a word. He hadn't been in love, of course, but there had been definite feelings.

"What'll it be, boyos?" the waitress asked with a cheerful grin. She pulled a small pad of paper and a bit of charcoal from her apron pocket.

"Just an ale, and whatever the house special is," Captain Teague answered in his gravelly voice. The girl smiled and nodded.

"Stargazey pie, then. Fer you, love?"

"Same," Jack grunted, not looking up from the table.

"Yer sure?" Her gentle Irish brogue made her sound extremely concerned. "Look like you could use sommat a bit stronger. Me da's just got in a bunch o' bottles of rum from the Caribbean. Best on the island." She gave him a coy, prodding smile.

"Your da?" Jack finally looked up at her. "This is his pub?"

"Mm-hmm." She smiled brightly. "And this rum's good fer the heart. Guarantee it."

He squinted hard at her for a few moments, then finally nodded. "Alright then. Bring us some of that rum."

Jack, in his twenty-three short years, had sailed with his father since he was old enough. He had, however, not yet been to the Caribbean. Singapore, Australia, Japan, and all around Europe, but he had yet to see Jamaica, Bermuda, or any of the other places they might brew rum from the cane sugar crops. This new drink was sweet and warmed him from the inside. The girl had brought him just one bottle to start, but one became two, then a third.

"I never asked," Jack slurred halfway through the third bottle shared with Captain Teague, "whassyer name?"

"Mine?" The pretty girl was working into the wee hours and the tavern was nearly empty. "Jenny."

"Jenny wha'?"

"Jenny Dolan." She was wiping down a table near him. Jenny had been accommodating and patient with him all night.

"No, s'not."

"It's not?" She smiled, looking up from her work. "What's my name then, Jack?" She had been on a first name basis before the end of the first bottle.

"It's Jenny Sparrow." Jenny laughed and Captain Teague shook his head, standing. He'd leave his son to drunkenly flirt away his sorrows; he was tired.

"Jenny Sparrow, eh? When'd we get married? I musta been drunk, too." She shook her head and continued working. This exchange was followed shortly by a hollow thunk. Jack had passed out on the table. With a sigh, Jenny shook her head; he had lasted longer than she had expected.

Jack awoke the next morning with a throbbing head. He moaned and tried to lift his head, but that proved to be a bad idea. His hand knocked against wood and when he pried his eyes open he saw it was a bucket. How nice. Upon further investigation of his surroundings, he discovered a pillow beneath his head and a thin wool blanket around his shoulders. The bucket stank already, but he didn't remember waking up to empty his stomach's rum-diluted contents into it.

Finally plucking up enough strength and courage to raise his head, Jack saw across the scrubbed wooden table a girl. The girl from last night was resting her head on her arms, blonde hair sprawled across the table. A hurricane lamp flickered low between them, though the first weak, watery rays of light were crawling up over the windowsill. The tavern was empty and quiet.

Jenny. Her name came floating back through the cottony murk, shortly followed by the rest of the night. Jenny Sparrow…how embarrassing…He'd been drunk before, but never quite that drunk. He wanted to apologize, but he didn't want to wake her up. Working in a tavern, surely the sweet girl had endured worse, but that was no excuse. The young pirate tried to stand quietly so as to let himself out and disappear from her life. Unfortunately, though she slept through his chair scraping loudly across the floor and having the blanket draped over her shoulders in turn, Jenny jerked awake when he tripped over a chair and caught himself in several stomping steps.

"Mm?" Jenny's head jerked up from her arms and she looked blearily around. "We still gettin' married, Jack?" she asked sleepily, giving him a good-natured smile. Jack flushed lightly with embarrassment.

"Nah," he answered, smiling back. "Your da might not let me come back and drink any more of his rum if I married his daughter."

She chuckled. "Toldja it was good, din't I?"

Jenny Dolan seemed to be considering Jack for a moment. She had seen him after a few pulls on the bottle, enough to loosen him up but nowhere near drunk yet, and he had seemed a charming and interesting man. He certainly was attractive; unlike his father there was no khol around his eyes, no dreadlocks in his shoulder-length dark hair, nor had wind and sun worn his clean-shaven face into lined, cracked leather. She decided she wanted to get to know him better.

"I dunno bout getting' ourselves married, but if you've drowned your conscience over Angelica enough, I know a place better than a bar we can talk. When I'm off work tonight." She looked boldly at Jack, chewing her lip nervously but not blushing.

Angelica…Somwhere around the second bottle Angelica had come up, until a good song had been struck up to distract him again. Jack considered Jenny and her boldness for a moment. He didn't know why, perhaps it was her sleepy half-smile or the way her messy hair framed her face, but he said yes. Jack had a time of convincing Captain Teague to stay a few extra days, and not without much teasing from the crew over the blonde bar maid he later discovered to be four years his junior. They had made port on Tuesday, and by the time they sailed out Friday evening Jack watched the twinkling town lights until they disappeared, Angelica all but forgotten.