AN: Once again, I beg a thousand pardons for not updating sooner. School has been terrible (stupid classes like NM history...pre-cal...you know, things that just eat up your time). I thank everybody who is still a loyal reader...I love you all. Knowing that you all are reading and enjoy my story helps tremendously. I am still having trouble figuring out Finn's feelings (she's a very closed-up character sometimes), and if you have trouble understanding what she is thinking through this chapter...I'm sorry. I don't quite understand it either. In essence, I feel like I butchered the whole thing, but it was a part that needed to be written, because I couldn't concentrate on school, it was bugging me so much. Once again, sorry if it's rough reading.

And as always, reviews are always welcome (Thanx to those of you who have reviewed!)

Enjoy.

I was squatting by the door, ear to the key hole, listening as Dawson boarded the ship, Jack's usual…unusual greeting beginning.

While in most circumstances similar to this, other women might be screaming their lungs out, I had opted to keep silent and manageable for three reasons. One, I was not the type to scream my lungs out. Voices have much better uses than to be used as high-pitched foghorns. Two, Jack wouldn't pay any attention to me, meaning that I would continue yelling until I had no voice left. And after my incident at Port Royal, I was in no mood to repeat that. Third, Dawson would hear me, and even though our first meeting was brief, I had absolutely no desire to meet him again. No, silence and stillness was, as far as I could tell, my best bet.

This didn't rid me of my curiosity, however, which accounted for my position now. Unfortunately, I could only hear, not see.

"Jack Sparrow. I've heard many a thing about you," said Dawson with a less than complimentary sneer, no doubt.

"Captain," corrected Jack, who would be smiling lazily at this point. "I can't say the same about you, mate. Never heard of a Captain…"

"Dawson," the other growled. "I has come to my knowledge that you are searching for the Fountain of Youth. I want an exchange of information."

"What makes you think I want to exchange anything with you?"

"You were at Port Royal recently, and captured a Miss Winifred Delaney. And she has what I want."

There was a moment of dead silence before Jack muttered, "And what exactly is that?"

"The key and map. The Commodore told me, and I intend to have them…and the girl."

"Now, why would I take a girl, who has no value on a ship, except to get in the way? Why not just take the items instead?"

"So you do have them!"

"You'll be hard pressed to find them, mate." The cocking of a gun was heard, and I clamped my hand over my mouth to stop from gasping. "They aren't on me," continued Jack languidly. "And if you shoot, you lose all chance of finding them. I'm the only one who knows where they are."

I frowned, and looked to my left, only to see said map and key still lying on the floor, right where I had thrown them two nights before. What was Jack talking about? If Dawson was to come in, he would see them. They weren't hidden…

At this point, I saw a very interesting facet of Jack's character. He was just bluffing. Just lying. Just like that. And with such ease and stature that Dawson must believe him.

But this meant that Jack could probably lie about anything, as long as it got him to what he wanted.

Anything.

After all, he was just a pirate.

I didn't have much time to ponder my new fear, however, for Dawson quickly piped up again. "Very well, I won't shoot you. I'll shoot him instead."

I scampered over to the map and key and stuffed them down my front. It was very unlikely that Jack was going to let one of this own men die, and I wanted some form of bartering to have, which the map and key provided for nicely.

"What was that noise?"

I stopped moving, intent on the conversation outside the door.

"You, go in there."

The rattle of the knob was heard, and my heart began to pound. They were going to find me.

"Locked, cap'n."

Two things happened very suddenly, and at the same time. I could hear Jack's voice yelling a definite "Don't shoot there!" just as a pistol went off, causing the door to swing wide open.

In a split second I was on my feet, a knife in hand that I had grabbed from the desk. Two men stood there, both somewhat dazed, yet looking particularly dangerous as the evening sun shone behind them. It didn't take long for them to realize my presence, and they barged over, smiling fiendishly.

"Get away," I croaked, holding my knife out farther.

I could tell from their faces they thought I was bluffing. I knew I was bluffing; there was no way I could get the guts to stab anyone, unless by accident. And I had developed a very set habit of not being a deceiver, a habit that was proving extremely hard to break when under pressure.

Yet, they didn't come any nearer. Despite the fact that I might be bluffing, they would not risk the fact that I might not. What cowards.

When the action stood still, Dawson barged through, shoving both men aside, and I scampered backwards even further, almost tripping over my dress. "Ah, Miss Delaney. Wonderful to meet you again," drawled Dawson, lumbering toward me. Suddenly, he stopped, and turned toward Jack, who was in the doorway now, looking rather sour. His pistol went up. "You lied."

"I never lied. I only asked why I would bother taking a girl on a ship. I didn't say that wasn't true," explained Jack, moving the pistol to the side. "Now why don't we put all this misunderstanding aside and converse like the gentlemen we are."

Dawson placed his pistol under Jack's chin, forcing him to look up. "I didn't come here to converse."

"Don't shoot," I croaked, taking a step forward. Two strong pairs of hands grasped my shoulders.

"Take her outside," ordered Dawson. "I'd prefer for this to be a private matter." He nudged Jack roughly, forcing him toward the bed.

"Jack doesn't know where they are," I said, struggling against my captors helplessly. "Threatening him isn't going to do any good."

Dawson looked at me skeptically, but did remove his pistol. "And you're willing to sacrifice your safety for his benefit. How intriguing."

"You've abandoned the Commodore," I noted quickly, not allowing him to finish what ever he intended to say. "Yet you were quite willing to help him not but a week ago. Why?"

The pirate captain glowered at me. "I don't see where that would concern you, Miss Delaney. Men, take Captain Sparrow outside. I have a discussion to hold with the lady now."

"Actually, it concerns us a great deal," Jack interrupted, side-stepping away from the approaching men. "You see, we're trying to get away from the Commodore as well."

"And what makes you think I'm trying to escape the Commodore?"

"You don't want him to get the treasure, mate. We're pirates, me and you; I understand exactly what you're thinking. Take what you can, give nothing back. You only teamed up with the Commodore because you knew it was your ticket to the Fountain. Now that you have another, much more desirable option that following Belmont like a puppy, you intend to take it. And for that, I fully applaud you. However, it seems to be interceding into my option, something I'm not quite so willing to overlook. But, because I am indefinitely generous and flexible, I am willing to come to an agreement."

Dawson stared at Jack, and I wondered for a brief second whether he actually understood what Jack was saying. Finally he answered, slowly, like a bully trying to see if stopping his harassment would benefit him more. "You want to make a deal?"

"To put it bluntly, yes. You see, two pirates teamed up are going to be much more of a threat than two pirates fighting. I say we work together to find this Fountain. Beat Belmont to it."

Dawson raised an eyebrow, stroked his chin, then smiled, sticking out his hand. "Deal." Jack was about to take it, until the other captain took it back, still grinning. "Under certain conditions, of course. One of us needs to keep the map."

Jack nodded. "And that will be me, since I seem to be in possession of it, though I apparently have no idea where it is."

"And then I will need to keep a ransom, to make sure you don't abandon me at sea. Miss Delaney fits the bill perfectly."

I scowled at the pirate, then looked at Jack who, much to my dismay, was thinking about the situation. But, after a long pause, he shook his head. "Sorry mate. Not an option."

Dawson frowned, and glanced skeptically between Jack and I. "Very well, Captain Sparrow, if not her, who? Give me a ransom, or the agreement is off."

Jack's eyes wandered around the room, studying what few number of his own crewmembers had entered. Finally, he grinned, a mischievous grin that I was beginning to recognize very well, and pointed at himself. "Take me, mate. I'll be your ransom."

Dawson was silent, then laughed. Behind him, Gibbs was shaking his head vigorously, pleading silently that his captain not leave. "And how do you know I won't just kill you? Captain of the ship that is hardly my friend. Seems awfully risky, Sparrow."

Jack wasn't phased, his cocky smile still plastered on. "Oh, it's not risky in the least. My crew would know exactly if you were to kill me. And if you do, they'll set hell on you. No, it's very safe for me, Captain…"

"Dawson," he growled. "And how do you plan to let them know?"

Jack undid his compass from his belt and, after shooing away the men that still held me, placed it in my hand. Leaning down to my ear, he whispered, "You know what you want the most."

I froze, not quite holding onto the heavy compass that was in my grasp, watching as everyone empted from the cabin.

He could not be serious.

I wasn't sure whether to scream at him or…actually, that was it. How could he just assume? It was too risky! How dare he suddenly seem so…heroic! Willing to sacrifice himself! He could die!

Did Jack really trust me that much?

I swallowed, watching the lid warily, dearly wanting to not open it, yet knowing that I had to. Jack hadn't left me with much of a choice. So, after a deep breath, I cracked it open and peeked inside.

It wasn't spinning anymore.

And the point was focused on something outside of the door.

I followed it, keeping my face down, still staring at the straight needle, wondering what Jack had gotten us into.

Stupid man. Brilliant too. At this point, I highly doubted there was an adjective apt enough to describe him.

I bumped into a large and squishy something. Looking up, I saw Gibbs standing there, watching me with a little frown. The needle was pointed at him.

Now that couldn't be right.

"I once heard you were a daft man, Sparrow, but not brainless," cackled Dawson. I went around Gibbs to see Jack standing there, his golden smile glinting devilishly in the rapidly disappearing light, right where my compass was pointed.

"Brainless is simply a matter of perspective, Captain Dawson," countered Jack.

"I still would like to know how the crew is going to be aware if I were to heartlessly murder you. I don't intend to be raising any flags to tell them of such."

"I'll know," I said softly, closing the compass and hiding it from Dawson's wondering eyes.

The pirate looked down at me silently, sneering. "You'll know? How, Miss Delaney?"

"That part doesn't concern you," I responded, not quite willing to meet Jack's gaze. I was still rather annoyed that he had put us in this situation, yet at the same time scared gutless that something terrible would happen. "You want the map, Dawson?"

He smiled. "Ah, yes; the meaning of this problem. I had nearly forgotten. Where is it, Miss Delaney?"

"If you want to see it," I dictated slowly and demurely, "you will stop asking questions and simply listen. Jack will chart the course; the his crew will lead, you will follow. If you want to have contact with us, you will run a white flag signifying as such, and we will respond with another white flag. None of this approaching without invitation, or we will fire on you. You will not harm a hair on Jack's head while he is a guest on your ship, or we will fire on you. Is that all clear?"

Dawson gaped down at me, almost with a look of disgust. "And why do you assume you can dictate the terms to me? You aren't even a captain."

"I have the map, remember? I can dictate as I please." Once again, I was bluffing my ferocity. On the outside, I'd imagine I looked something like an angry cat, spitting and snarling, though on the inside, I was quivering with fear.

Yet, my bluffing worked, much to my great surprise. After glancing around the deck, Dawson glared down at me, his blonde bear trembling slightly. "Very well, then, Miss Delaney," he spat. "I will grant your terms, promising not to injury one hair of Sparrow's head."

"Captain," he interjected quickly.

Dawson rolled his eyes, as a parent would to a little child. "Now that this little…misunderstanding is cleared away, I suggest that we have this map that you speak of, and sail to the island as soon as we are able."

"A grand idea!" agreed Jack energetically. "Let's convene to my quarters, and we will chart the coordinates. Miss Delaney?" He held out is hand, supposing himself a gentleman, and I took it, following him as he led.

"What were you thinking--" I hissed, hoping that Dawson, who was shouting orders to his crew, was not eavesdropping.

"Not now, luv," he cooed. "Leave everything to Captain Jack Sparrow, and you'll have no need to worry."

"Your name does not have magical qualities," I growled. "You're going to get yourself killed! Searching for this fountain is going to be your death!"

"I find it rather intriguing that you are suddenly so concerned with my well-being," he said. Blushing a vivid red, I opened my mouth, very much ready to give something back in retort, but he silenced me with a wave of his hand. "And while I would love to finish this interesting conversation, it is going to have to wait for another time, luv." He pointed toward the fast approaching Dawson.

"You deserve to be slapped for getting all of us into this mess," I answered, almost ready to do the deed myself. At the moment, my emotions were an utter mess. I had fallen in love with this man, this pirate, who could not seem to stay away from trouble, and who was arrogant and careless and charming and entirely indescribable all at the same time. This man had told me he loved me, and this man was also putting his life on the line for a puddle of water. I knew that I should not be trusting this man, yet I found myself depending on him more and more. My mind was telling me to leave by any means necessary, yet my heart told me to follow him to the ends of the earth if I had to.

If anything, I needed was a break from all this, someone to talk to.

What I really needed was Ella.

The sudden thought of her made my anger disappear, and I unclenched my hands, which had been holding rather tightly onto Jack's. Was Ella okay? Last I had seen her was being carried off by the Commodore…the thought made me shiver with fear. I had to get through this somehow, for her. I could do anything to save her. And I would do anything.

Jack sensed my abrupt change in mood, and smiled winningly. "Don't worry, Finn. I'll get us out. After all, I'm--"

"Don't even say it."

"Enough chatting," growled Dawson, grabbing us both from behind and shoving us forward through the door. "The map."

I swallowed and looked between the two pirates, so different in many respects, yet still so alike.

How did I get myself into this mess?