AN: Woohoo, my very first PotC fic! I hope I can actually finish it, I have the bad habit of starting stories and then leaving them to virtually rot on my hard drive-- However, I will try my very hardest with this one, especially of course if I get positive feedback. I guess I should do a disclaimer, though it seems a bit redundant since I'm posting this on a site made specifically for fanfiction...sigh

DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of this, except for my OC.

Erica Jones sat back in her comfortable computer chair and popped her knuckles appreciatively, blowing a strand of her newly-dyed pink hair out of her eyes. She had been writing for nearly an hour and finally had something to show for it; a new chapter for her Pirates of the Caribbean fan fiction. She had been planning on making the scene a major plot point, but she had been eager to make her OC and Jack kiss so she had sped things up a bit. Besides, plot didn't really matter anyway, did it? Her dark green eyes skimmed over the newly added paragraphs with something akin to glee, not even pausing as she took a large swig of her Diet A&W.

Ericalotte stood with her fist poised hesitantly to knock on the door of Captain Jack Sparrow, uncertainty written all over her beautiful face. Was it time to let him know? Would he hate her for the secrets she had kept from him? The questions and insecurities raced through Ericalotte's pretty head. However, her secret could be of the utmost importance to Jack and his mission to recapture Barbossa, whom had mysteriously come back to life with no possible explanation available. That settled it. Whatever made Jack happiest in the end had to be for the best.

She had only rapped on the door once before the smooth, rich baritone of the captain rang out through the silence. It was surprisingly gentle, despite the captain's naturally gruff voice. "Enter!" Ericalotte gave an involuntary shiver of happiness as she heard the captain's voice, and she pushed open the door a bit more confidently than she felt.

Her breath caught as she saw Jack, who was slumped gracefully in his chair with his feet on his desk. The signature bottle of rum was clasped gently in one hand. He studied her silently for a moment, eyes squinted as if to see her better, and then waved his free hand lazily. "Sit," he drawled out.

Ericalotte remained standing, nervously clasping her hands and refusing to meet Jack's searching gaze. After a bit of a pause, she glanced up at him quickly and then back down at the worn carpet. Now was the best time to tell him.

"Jack, I have a bit of a secret to tell you," Ericalotte began hesitantly. She began to wring her hands. In the background she could hear Jack take a swig of his rum. This wasn't easy.

"Well...I suppose I'll just out and say it. My mother was a mermaid and my father is a pirate hunter who killed your brother."

Silence reigned in the cramped captains quarters. Ericalotte kept her eyes glued resolutely to the carpet. Normally, being after all the most notorious and skilled assassin in all the world, Ericalotte didn't have to deal with uncertainty. What if Jack hated her now? What if he made her walk the plank? Back at home, where she was the richest heiress in the country and the constant companion of her best friend Elizabeth Swann, she didn't have to deal with situations like these. Nervously, she played with the magical necklace that had been given to her by a pirate as he lay dying on the beach. It was in the shape of a flame and had the power to heal anyone who touched it, shoot lightning bolts at enemies, and time travel. Her face suddenly was tilted gently to look into the eyes of Jack, who had gotten up and now stood before her with his hand under her chin. She blinked, bit her lip, and looked back down.

"Come now, love. That doesn't matter to me," Jack said gently. Ericalotte sniffed quietly and turned her stunningly green eyes with flecks of silver in them back to Jack's. He ran a rough, calloused hand through her beautiful, gorgeous, absolutely fabulous waist-length shimmering blond hair, which shone like newly minted gold in the soft lantern light. Jack spoke again. "I loved you ever since I first saw you a day and a half ago, Ericalotte, and I won't let anything get in my way. You're my diamonds and pearls."

Ericalotte looked up into Jack's eyes, surprised. She had dreamt and hoped that Jack had felt the same way as she did, but never had more of a fond hope of it. "Oh, Jack..." she muttered, unable to speak. She was the happiest she had ever been in her life.

Jack cradled her head gently in his hands and kissed her, and Ericalotte felt her heart sing...

Erica sighed happily to herself. Another day's fine work. She couldn't wait to post this baby...she only hoped that she wouldn't get flamed again by those people calling her story a Mary Sue again. Already her inbox was flooded, and she'd had to take her email off of They didn't really bother her, though. She knew that they were all just jealous of her and her wonderful original character.

She got to her feet slowly, stretching out her cramped and sleeping legs. A quick glance towards her bedroom's window told her that it was around noon, and way past time for her to be up and about. She hit the save button on her computer and left the Word document open as she got up from her desk in search of some clothes to wear. As much as she adored her homemade Jack Sparrow pajamas (she had printed out pictures of him from the computer and taped them all over a tank top and plain pajama bottoms) her mom always yelled at her for going around in her pj's.

From the look of the glaring sunlight streaming in through her window, it was blazingly hot out. Stupid Midwest, Erica thought to herself, fetching a bright blue spaghetti strap top from the depths of her dresser. Either hellishly hot or subzero temperatures. There was no doubt in her mind that she was going to go to a faraway college. She struggled into her favorite around-the-house faded blue jeans to match and quickly pulled her cotton-candy pink hair into some messy pigtails. Ah, presentable.

As she meandered into the kitchen, she could hear the sounds of another argument raging from her parent's bedroom. Great, now they would upset her little brother. Erica herself had long outgrown being affected by their constant battles, but it still had an adverse affect on her 9 year old brother Jimmy. Sure enough, as she reached for a Pop-Tart from the pantry she could hear him sniffle from the couch in the family room. She sighed. She wasn't in the mood to comfort him right now.

She grabbed a packet of Pop-Tarts and decided to eat them outside, away from her family. Quickly tossing the wrapper in the trash, she slid into her pink Converse lowtops and made a hasty exit through the front door. As soon as she heard the solid sound of the door closing behind her she relaxed. Finally a bit of peace.

Erica decided to eat her breakfast/lunch on the go. She ambled along her street to the local park, enjoying the day. The sky was blue, and the grass was green. She sighed, contented for the moment, simply enjoying one of the final days of summer. School was starting again in one short week, and Erica was definitely not ready for it. She idly wondered whether or not the vice principal had gotten a much-needed toupee yet. She was ambling around the park when the entire world shifted.

Erica quickly brought her hand to her forehead, forgetting about her Pop-Tart and thus getting raspberry filling smeared all over her face. It had felt like all of existence had given an inexplicable twinge of some sort, as if something had shifted and settled. It wasn't a physical feeling; Erica had felt it in her mind. She frowned, her previous good mood dissipating. Her head pounded and she was suddenly hyper-aware of her surroundings. Her heart drummed out at a quick clip.

She stood still, simply taking in deep breaths one by one until her head stopped its throbbing and her heart rate resided just the tiniest. What had that been? Erica had never felt anything quite like it before. Whatever it was, it certainly hadn't been normal. Her brow furrowed. Or perhaps she was getting sick. Yes, that was most likely it; it was much simpler to except that story over some cosmic happening that she had somehow detected. Perhaps she should go back home; lie down. Oh well, it was just a bit of dizziness...Erica wasn't ready to go back home quite yet.

Then, just when she was least expecting it, the world shifted again. And this time, it was not a little twinge. It was an almighty lurch.

The vivid green of the grass and the deep blue of the sky seemed to go on pause around her, leaving Erica trapped and motionless for a long second. She hung, suspended in nothingness, as the world around her shattered. Her head buzzed deafeningly, drowning out all thought. She felt sick enough to vomit up all the food she had ever eaten in her entire lifetime.

Then, just as suddenly as it had started, the chaos stopped. Erica was enveloped in the cool darkness of unconsciousness.

Captain Jack Sparrow, looking exceptionally dashing as he stood perched in the crow's nest, surveyed the sea surrounding him and the ship below him with a fierce joy. To be on the open sea again aboard the Black Pearl was all that he could ever ask for out of life. The sun beat down on him, and a salty wind whipped his face and made his eyes water. On the deck below him, he could hear the harshly sweet voice of Anamaria barking orders to the deckhands and the creaking of ropes. He took in a deep breath of the sea air and exhaled loudly, trying to commit the moment to his memory forever.

Then, another sound snuck into the atmosphere. Jack frowned slightly, tilting his head to hear the strains better. Recognition dawned and he sighed, feeling slightly put out. It was a haunting, beautiful song, ringing exquisitely through the air. It harmonized perfectly with the dull roar of the waves, and was sweet enough to make even a siren envious. The birds overheard wheeled and called as if jealous of the song's sonorous sound. Jack winced and scowled. Not again. They were always at the bell all day, doing all they could to make simply living for him a nuisance. Bloody inconvenient. He did his best to ignore the delicate song and return to keeping a lookout, but the sheer beauty of it slid past his defenses and invaded his thoughts. His scowl deepened. He had thought that maybe by taking a watch or four would help him avoid them, but apparently he was wrong.

He leaned out over the precarious railing of the crow's nest and looked down at the deck, squinting to make out the singer.

"AHOY! YOU DOWN THERE! STOP THAT YOWLING THIS INSTANT!" he roared down brusquely. The figure on deck jumped and looked about, and then finally realized that Jack was above and looking down. She excitedly turned to two people who were standing behind her and began talking animatedly, pointing up to where Jack was.

Oh gods, he had done it now. He slumped over into a dejected sitting position, with his back against the mast. From down below him on the deck he could hear the first strains of the song again, this time sang determinedly louder and with full harp and flute accompaniment. Jack grit his teeth together and clapped his hands over his ears. Couldn't he ever have a moment's peace? He stared moodily out into the blue-green sea, contemplating how unfair life had gotten over the past few months.

Suddenly, his eyes alighted on a floating dot of something out on the sea, fairly close to the Pearl. He squinted against the brutal glare, forgetting about the persistent song still ringing through the air for a moment. Retrieving his spyglass from his baldric, Jack expertly flicked it open and adjusted it to the floating blob.

He let out an exasperated noise as he recognized the floating blob as an unconscious and most likely stunningly beautiful woman. He put away his spyglass and resignedly began climbing down the ratlines back to the deck. Not another bloody one.

He cast an eye down to the deck when he was about halfway down the mainmast, and noticed that the three women whom had been singing and playing their blasted instruments now stood at the very bottom of the ratlines, waiting for him. Perhaps he should issue his orders from here. He swung from the rope ladder to balance skillfully atop the mizzenmast.

"Man Overboard on the starboard side!" Jack roared to the crew. He could see Anamaria visibly jump from where she stood directly below him and grinned. She looked up at him and scowled. Jack began dishing out orders.

"Mr. Cotton, lower a rope and buoy down to our unconscious maiden! Mr. Scrawp, if you could go down and help said maiden attach herself safely to said rope! The rest of you, take up the other end and when you get the three tugs, haul!" Jack looked down to Anamaria's glare and gave a small mock bow, grinning mischievously. She always hated it when he interrupted the time she got to spend in full control of the ship while he was on watch. She tipped her head full back and surveyed him from her lower position.

"Stop looking down my shirt this instant, Captain Jack Sparrow," she called up in her barking voice, but looking amused. Jack smirked down at her. "As soon as you stop peeking up my breeches, love," he said in a carefree manner, then flashed a million dubloon smile. She smiled and opened her mouth to reply -

When she was cut off by someone's loud, wailing sobs. Anamaria jumped visibly, Jack merely heaved a sigh. It wouldn't be long now until he felt the familiar tug, the irresistible urge to go comfort whomever was bawling their lungs out. He cursed colorfully under his breath. He may be inexplicably pulled to go help some sobbing maiden, but that didn't mean he had to do it in good graces.

Sure enough, it came. The feeling of having two fishhooks stuck in his chest, pulling gently at first towards the disruption. He must have involuntarily made a pained face, because Anamaria said, "Is somethin' the matter with ye, Captain? Besides not havin' a bit of peace and quiet for over 3 months, I mean."

Jack made a resigned face. "Hardly, but thanks very much for your deep concern. If you'll excuse me, there are matters I must attend to." The pressure the invisible hooks were exerting on his chest was intensifying. Jack felt if he waited for another minute to go to the voice his chest would surely be ripped wide open.

"Pressing matters. If you'll excuse me," Jack finished, with a mocking doff of his worn hat. Without further delay, he grabbed a ratline and swung down onto the deck, setting off in the direction of the banshee-like sobs. Anamaria's eyes followed him for a long moment before returning to the sweating backs of the sailors she was commanding.

Jack strolled along the deck, seemingly unhurried. He knew that as soon as he got to whatever wench was sobbing her eyes out and comforted her the pain of the invisible hooks would disappear, but even in pain he was defiant. He didn't like some unseen force dictating what his every move should be. And lately, the unseen forces had gotten a bit rougher with him.

Every day now it seemed, exotically beautiful women in the oddest of professions had somehow fallen into his company. Most had stolen away at ports or he had picked them up off of deserted islands, but some just popped out of nowhere onto his ship, telling the most unbelievable tales about being fairies, sea sprites, or even the long lost sisters of either Miss Elizabeth Swann or Will Turner.

One even claimed to be the daughter of Barbossa. Jack had almost laughed himself silly at that one. He told the dismayed girl (who stared at him with eyes glistening like malachite and hair shimmering like quicksilver) that he had made her supposed "father" infertile without a doubt over 30 years ago. She had sobbed herself silly, that one, before finally taking her leave.

Jack finally reached the source of the horrible commotion. A maiden, probably aged around 20 or so, lay draped dramatically across the deck sobbing. Her waist-length fire-red hair draped becomingly over her curvaceous body, and the tears rolling down her delicate, perfectly shaped and proportioned face did nothing but accent her heart-breakingly beautiful baby blue eyes and darken her sooty, full eyelashes. Her lithe, slender body shook with her heaving breaths, inviting Jack to pull her into his arms.

"OH, WOE IS ME! WOE! WOOOOOOOOOE!" she practically screamed, making Jack jump backwards a pace. Jack raised his eyebrows and shot a look at Mr. Gibbs, who was looking on amusedly. Jack approached the young woman again with caution.

Jack gave her leg a kick. She didn't seem to notice, and continued to shout about her woe. Jack tried again.

This time, she dramatically wiped her eyes with on hand and pushed herself up so that she was propped on one arm. She arched her back so that her breasts were pushed out in Jack's direction. Then she took a tear-filled look at the pirate captain, who stood above her nonplussed. She crinkled her eyes shut and threw herself back onto the deck, with one arm wildly and melodramatically motioning Jack away.

"OH, NO, CAPTAIN! PLEASE, I DON'T NEED YOUR COMFORT AND SUPPORT! I AM INDEPENDENT, EVEN IF I AM BUT A WOMAN, AND SOON ENOUGH I SHALL PROVE THAT TO YOU!" she yowled, curling into a ball amongst a coil of ropes.

Jack snorted. He gave her another sharp nudge with his foot, making her open one tear-stained eye and regard him curiously.

"Ok, listen up. I don't want to hear your yowling and bawling on my ship again. It not only gives me a headache but it drowns out the lovely shanties of me crew. If you don't stop I'm going to throw you overboard."

The woman blinked, then jumped to her feet and embraced Jack in a tight, lover's hug. He stood silent and unmoving within her arms. She whispered into his ear, "You know, I'm not wearing any underwear underneath this petticoat." Then she pulled back and glared at him.

"How dare you, Jack Sparrow, trying to take advantage of a poor maiden sobbing her heart out over her dead family!" Thus said, she pulled back and slapped him. Jack turned with the blow, in his mind resignedly thinking that by the time all of these girls were done with him he would have a face of steel. He turned his head back to regard the female before him dubiously.

She turned her back on him and stomped off to his quarters, moving perfectly with the pitch and roll of the ship. The loud slam of his own chamber doors echoed in Jack's ears.

Two seconds passed, Jack standing still in the same position that he had started from, thinking to himself how much his life overall had declined in the past months. Then the door of his quarters opened again and the maiden stuck her head out, looking at him. "I also happen to sleep in the nude. Just in case you were wondering," she called out. Then she slammed the door again.

Jack rolled his eyes and headed back towards the crow's nest. At least there he could get a moment's peace a rest.

As Jack passed, Scrawp and Mr. Cotton hauled the soaked body of the woman out of the sea. She had beautiful, gorgeous, absolutely fabulous waist-length, shimmering blond hair that shone like newly minted gold. As her back hit the solid surface of the deck of the Black Pearl, she opened her stunningly green eyes with flecks of silver in them and gazed around her surroundings in complete disbelief.

"There is NO fucking way," Erica croaked quietly to herself. "There's no way in HELL!"

Oh, great, Jack thought to himself with a deep, long-suffering sigh. This one thinks she's a pirate. Jack shook his head and mourned his recent loss of peace and quiet. Then, he made sure to run back to the crow's nest before the woman at his feet could start moaning on about how her family was dead or she had been lost at sea.

o-o-o-o-

AN: I came across this story that I wrote way back when POTC first came out. I figured hey what the hell, let's post it. Please review.