'ello! Please review on this, reviews make my day. Even if you don't like it, how long does it take to tell me what you thought about it? Oh and READ THIS: The flash back that you are going to read is in Mr. Gibbs' point of view.

Chapter Three

It was quiet aboard the Black Pearl. All of the pirates were nestled in their crude hammocks below the deck. Jack was no doubt in his cabin, reading over his map and drinking "one last" bottle of rum. And Madeline, she was sitting in her cabin, sharpening her sword with a block of wood. The scraping sound filled her room. She was right back where she didn't want to be. In a cabin of someone else's ship. Headed to where someone else wanted to go.

She grabbed her robe and threw it over her gown. The night was cold and breezy. The ship rocked ever so gently. The waters were almost still, except for the light ripples. She breathed in the cool air and walked up the stairs, to the wheel. She put her hands on it and closed her eyes. Oh, how she wanted to have a ship of her own.

But, alas, her father decided that now -of all times- he would like to make amends with his heart broken, now independent daughter. It was his fault that she was like this. She could've been a lady. With a light giggle, instead of a hearty laugh. A gentle smooth voice, instead of a scratchy deep one. But now, she is much more a man than a lady. "Ladies" don't drink in the bars of Tortuga while playing whatever card game will get her the most in profit. "Ladies" don't know how to handle a sword with the precision and strength that she does. And "ladies" sure as hell don't con men into giving them their ships, then kill them to make sure that she can keep them.

A throat cleared. Her little daze was broken and her eyes flew open. She sighed, "Father."

Mr. Gibbs gave her a nod.

She looked at him for a second, expecting him to say something. Something that would fix it all, as he had done in the past. But he just stood there, looking over the daughter that he hadn't seen in years. There was something in his eyes, a mix of guilt and pride, a mix that Madeline never knew could be possible.

She shook her head, her eyes stinging. From the cold, she reckoned. She gave her father one last look before walking away.

"Wait." She heard the low, garbly voice call to her. She stopped and turned around, he was walking down the stairs, right towards her. He grabbed her hand and pulled her to the railing of the ship's deck. He looked out onto the water. "You look just like your mother, Madeline." She watched him, as he leaned over the rail and looked into the water. "She was so beautiful. I always wondered why she would pick me. She could have any man on the island."

Madeline could barely get her voice above a broken whisper, "What was she like?"

He smiled, watched as the breeze caused more ripples in the still water. "She had long, curly, dark hair. Her face was flawless. She was petite." He chuckled, "But that didn't mean she was weak." He looked at his daughter, "Your strength, your courage.. It's all from your mother."

Madeline looked down, her cheeks shone crimson.

Mr. Gibbs' eyes moved back to the water. "I'll never forget the day we met…"

We were young. Maybe into our fifteenth or sixteenth years, the both of us. I was helping my father -your grandfather- with his fishing. He had crates of fish brought from his ship, and I would have to carry them to the store that sold them.

I was walking off of the dock, a crate of fish in my arms. A girl was on her hands and knees in front of me, trying to find the coin purse she had dropped in the sand. I didn't see her until it was too late. I tripped over her and the fish flew everywhere. Including on the pretty, young lady. Her dark, curly head of hair flew up and I caught a glimpse of her deep, hazel eyes. Even while she was covered in fish, they sparkled.

I gasped and threw my hand out, offering my assistance, to help her stand. She took it and stood up. She blushed so badly, it was like such a beautiful color. "I am so sorry, ma'am."

She laughed, not the airy - fake- laugh that I was so used to hearing from women, but a true laugh, "Don't give it another thought." She tried, and failed, to brush the slime from her dress.

I cringed, "I'm afraid I may've ruined that dress."

She looked into my eyes, "It is no problem at all. My mother is a seamstress. And I am being trained in the art as we speak."

"Are you now?" I looked her over, "You don't seem like the woman who would enjoy such a sport."

"Oh, believe me, I do not." She sighed, "But that appears to be the only way for a lady to make any sort of payment."

"There is another way." I smirked, jokingly.

She gave out another -real- laugh, and smacked my arm. "I do not believe I am so desperate to get into that field of work." She stopped, "But If I ever do, what is the name I should ask for, to be my first costumer?" She asked with a wink.

I chuckled, "Joshamee Gibbs, is the name, my dear."

She held out her hand with a smile, "Cecily Heart."

Feeling confident, for reasons unknown to I. I took her hand, and kissed it.

A scream came from the street, "Cecily! What has happened?" An old woman jogged to us. "Your dress is ruined, my job in consideration, you cannot be seen in such a state." She grabbed her daughter's arm and pulled her away from me, shouting profanities as she did.

Madeline watched her father finish the story, "But how did your courtship come about?"

He looked over to me and smiled.

I wouldn't see my dear Cecily for another year or so. We were both eighteen when there was a festival in the streets of Tortuga. Everyone, even I -who did not fancy these sort of events- went outside to watch the dancers, and sword jugglers. There were little tables, some with rum, some with things to buy. There was one in particular that I was drawn to, the shawls. It wasn't the colorful arrangement that caught my eye, though. It was the girl, who was using her charms to get a man to buy his Lass a shawl as a gift.

She was wearing a modest, green dress. But it looked stunning on her. She smiled as the man left and turned back to her table. Her eyes sparkled even more than they had the first time we met.

Cecily.

I walked up behind her and leaned down so my lips brushed against her ear, "Seeing as you haven't contacted me, you must've not gotten into 'that field of work'."

Cecily gasped and spun around, she smiled. "I remember you." She chuckled, "You threw fish on me."

I smiled, She had remembered me, as I had her, after a year of no contact. "That was I, pity you have no better memories of our meeting."

"That memory is strong enough, though." she smiled, and picked up another shawl. "Have you come to buy a shawl for your love?"

"I haven't a love." I said, looking into her eyes. Though there were so many things going on beside us. Fire in the middle of the street. Singing. Dancing. Swords being juggled. Children laughing. Babies crying. Men howling towards women. But I heard none of it. I just heard her, and her heartbeat. "But I hope to acquire one soon."

She nodded, with a smile. "I hope to do the same."

"We spent the rest of the night talking, her and I." he sighed, "Then at around midnight, I had to walk her home. And I mustered up the courage to kiss her on her doorstep." Madeline stood, watching as her father held back tears. He turned to her and smiled, "Get some rest, Madeline."

He kissed the top of her head and headed to the hammock room. Leaving Madeline alone, her arms wrapped around herself, thinking over her father's words.

Well, I hope you liked it. It is spring break, you know? So I should have another update within the week.

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