This fanfiction is going out to Aquatic Cylipso for being the best and convincing me to submit this story.

Alrighty, as many may have prognosticated, I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean or any of it's amazing characters, I also do not own the Jack Sparrow books or any of it's characters, please do not sue me, this is non-profit and just for fun.

The sun slowly descended farther and farther below the horizon and out of the mortal world. The calls of seafowl echoed over the docks and the sailors working upon them. Things were peaceful, calm, serene and quiet, the crisp, cool night air beginning to help the sailors realize how tired they were hushed the seamen until the only sounds left were the lapping of the waves, the call of the birds and the creak of the pier.

The ominous silence rang in their ears until one anxious voice called out a name that left everyone with something to say. The normal chaos erupted on the wharf and the source of the voice scrambled through the now restless crowd. He tried his hardest to work his way around without falling into the dirty bay water. He passed many people, all either laughing at stories about the person, or growling at memories of the colorful character desperately searching for. All, it seemed, knew and responded to this name. This made the seeker, now searching through the rowdy crowd irate that no one would help him. They were too busy laughing or scowling. Everyone.

At that moment, the source of the voice and all the commotion came upon the one exception to the rule.

A woman sat on a barrel, her auburn hair flying free in the chilly night air. Her clothes were plain, a brown dress and a belt that hung loosely around her hips. Her face startled the seeker so much he stopped short. She did not laugh, nor did she smile at all, but neither did she scowl with anger at the name. On her face was pain.

Her brown eyes seemed focused on something distant and invisible. Her eyes wide and her pupils focused on nothing, she stared ahead. Her eyebrows knit together as if she was trying desperately to remember something and she was not succeeding. Her pretty, natural-colored lips formed a straight line of concentration. She looked ghostly, hollow, empty…and beautiful.

He approached her on instinct and before he knew it he was right beside her. "Hello," he greeted her.

It took her a moment to realize he was speaking to her. "Oh," she recognized, ending her reverie. "Hello."

"I was wondering, do you know where I could find Captain Jack Sparrow of the Black Pearl? I really need to find him…" the seeker explained.

The woman recognized his voice as the one who had called out the Captain of the Black Pearl's name only moments before. "What's your name, lad?" the woman asked.

"William…Will Turner," he answered, slowly, cautiously. Why did she want to know?

"Ah, William," she said. "Why do you seek…Captain Sparrow?"

"Do you know where he is or not?" Will asked impatiently, losing interest.

"In truth, I do not," she confessed. "But, we share a common goal."

"What do you mean?" Will asked.

"I seek Captain Sparrow as well," she answered.

"You do? Why?" Will was curious to know.

The woman's face returned to the same empty, ghostly expression in which Will had discovered her. "You have a ship?" she asked.

"No, actually," Will confessed.

"I can take you with me on my ship if you can provide us with where to look."

"All right," Will agreed. "We should begin our search in Tortuga."

The woman looked dreamily out to sea with the expression of empty remembrance Will had seen thrice. "Meet me at the boat at dusk in three nights' time," the woman instructed, a strange darkness laced into her ordinary directions.

Will left his suspicion aside for later contemplation and answered her, "I'm done in town. I've nowhere to sleep. Shall we board you're ship tonight?"

"Fine. Follow me," she eased off of the barrel and down a wharf to a large and beautifully well-taken care of ship. On the hull the name Fleur de la Morte was inscribed in fancy script.

"The Fleur de la Morte? Is that French?" Will asked.

"Why, yes it is," the woman answered, cautiously.

Will didn't take her guarded tone as the unusual, and the woman was glad he did not question her further about the name inscribed in her ship. "So you are…the Captain's wife?" Will asked.

"No, this ship is mine. I am Captain," she explained.

"A female Captain," he pondered quietly. She ignored him.

"Captain Smith, if you please, William Turner," Captain Smith introduced herself.

"Aye, aye, Captain Smith," Will answered.