This takes place after POTC 2, so there will be a few spoilers.

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As Kris walked down the street, she shook her head. The bars were letting out, since it was two in the morning. The drunks were out in force and many were driving. She made sure she was far enough on the sidewalk before continuing. She sat down on a bench in her small American town, wondering what 2007's New Year would be like if this was just for the World Cup.

She wouldn't see it though, because she didn't even see the headlights barreling down the streets beside her.

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Splash. Splash. Splash. Kris awoke to several sounds that a normal Wisconsin morning did not bring. Ever. Opening her eyes, she squeezed them shut as water splashed into them. Salt water, nothing stung like salt water did. Pushing herself to her knees, she wiped her eyes. Then she opened them, and wanted to shut them all the same. She stared out at the ocean, because Lake Michigan wasn't that clean and clear.

"Where am I?"

Her head throbbed and her back ached. She was filthy from head to toe and drenched. She tried to remember what happened, but all she remembered was sitting on the bench. Finally standing, Kris turned and was welcomed by the sight of a jungle, and many mangled row boats. She brushed off herself and slicked her hair back. Where in the world was she? Shrugging, she headed into the forest.

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"Another beach?" Kris tried to calm down, but this was getting nuts. She was in some tropical area, paradise, and it seemed alone. Just as she was about to start slapping herself to wake up, she heard a moan. Kris whipped around and saw someone laying face first in the sand, just as she had. "Are you okay?"

The man merely moaned as he tried to push himself up. He crawled from the water and sagged into the sand once more. "Bloody monster," was all he mumbled.

"Sir, are you okay?"

"Hm? Who's there?" The man said jumping to his feet. He tried to grab something on his side, and seemed surprised when it was not there.

"Sir?"

He finally turned and Kris let out a slight gasp. The man was bloody, and his clothes were ripped. His clothes, that was the other thing. He was dressed very oddly. He had a white baggy shirt on covered with a vest. A red bandana covered most of his head, brown dreadlocks covered the rest. Beads hung from several strands. His pants matched his vest, and were followed by roughly aged leather boots. Some kind of belt hung from one shoulder to his waist.

"Did you just call me…sir?" He asked carefully.

"Yeah, and asked if you were okay, which apparently, you aren't."

He tilted his head, "Funny accent you have there. Where are you from?"

"Wisconsin."

"Hm, where's that port?"

"It's a state in the United States of America."

"America, now that I have heard of. What are you doing in the Caribbean, luv?" He glanced down and smiled when several things washed ashore. "Ah! There you are." He picked up a sword, a hat and…

"A gun?" Kris took several steps back as the man brushed himself off. He saw the blood on his arm and shrugged slightly. He took the gun, shook it a bit and then turned and pointed it at Kris's chest.

"Sorry luv, but you have to come with me."

"Why? Who are you to saw where I go?"

"I'm the man with the gun pointed at your chest, but I like you, so I may not shoot you, if you give me what I want which you might not want to be willing to give. Savvy?"

"Sort of. You talk fast, and you're kinda weird."

"Luv, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."

"And that means what exactly?" Kris asked as she walked with him. He let out a frustrated growl. "What! I don't even know who you are!"

"Exactly my point, luv."

"And will you stop calling me that!" Kris turned, making the pistol jab her in the chest. Jack's eyes widened a bit and he leaned away slightly. Kris looked up at him. He was only a few inches taller than her, but seemed near her age, either that, or he didn't care how old she really was. "I do have a name."

"Sorry luv, to whom do I have the honor of gracing with my presence?"

"My name's Kristin. My friends call me Kris."

"Your friends. Tell me dear Kristin, why is it that you are on this godforsaken place with not one person besides myself who know who you are or that you even exist?"

"You tell me."

"Well, unfortunately for both of us, I cannot. Now, shall we continue?"

"Sorry Mr. Sparrow-"

"Captain Sparrow."

"Captain Sparrow, but where are we?"

Jack stopped and looked around, "There you are!" He exclaimed yet again. He headed to a cluster of trees and pulled back the ferns in front of him. He walked back to Kris with two bottles in hand. "Rum?"

"Thanks, but no thanks. I'm not a drinker."

"Pity," Jack popped a cork out and took a swig from a bottle.

"About my question…"

"Right," He turned and outstretched his arms. His slightly drunken stagger, accompanied by awkwardly flailing hand gestures made him look unfocused as he addressed her. "Welcome to the Caribbean luv."