A/N: I'M ALIVE! BUAHAHHAHAHHAHA..ha...ha...uh yea. Many apologies to those who have been waiting for an update on this story. Hope this chapter makes up for the wait!

Chapter Five: Encounters with a Mary-Sue

Day three of my eternity of deck swabbing finds me scrubbing unenthusiasticly at the perpetually dirty deck. The muscles in my scrawny arms scream in desperate protest, but I'm determined to not look weak compared to Jasper, who scrubs like he's grateful to wash any ground that has been blessed with Jack's grimey boots. This does nothing to improve my mood which is growing increasingly darker as the midday sun grows stronger until finally, I can't take no more, and throws down me rag in agitated defiance. I sit back on my haunches--my chest rising and falling rapidly as I look over at Jasper expecting some snide remark of how I should get my sorry arse back to work. But no, Jasper does no such thing. He don' even look up to acknowledge my insubordination with a fierce glower, something that he enjoys immensely. The swish swish of his rag continues at an unbreakable pace that confounds me.

"You sick or something?" I ask flatly.

"'Dunno what you're talkin' about," Jasper answers all coy like as he continues to scrub.

I narrows my eyes suspiciously at him, searching shrewdly for a reason for his flippant behavior. "Somethings up."

The swishing stops.

This is a wise move on Jasper's part, for my foul mood happens to have a close correlation with my loose fists.

"Alright then, lets have it."

He sighs, resigning his vow of silence. "I've heard some stuff is all..."

"Like what?" My curiousity is peaked.

"Well, it seems we're headed into port soon." The subtle uncertainy in Jasper's voice has me sensing that there is far more than what he's sayin.

"And?" I persist, the impatientness in my voice surfacing.

"And thats it!" He growls, running a hand through his lemon hair to distract me from the blush growing on his cheeks.

Hmmm...

Some gels who encounter a peice of information that needs to be extracted from a man, go about getting it through simpering giggles, soft words, coquettish smiles, and other means. I however have a different technique that has about the same success rate.

"OW ME BLOODY EAR!!"

I pinch harder on Jasper's ear with the wrath of a vengeful governess.

"Just say the magic words!" I chirp brightly.

"I'M GOING TO KILL YOU IF YOU DON'T LET GO OF MY EAR!!"

"Wrong!" I put a little more strain on the ear, which receives a wild howl from Jasper. Fairy.

My face, upturned in satisfied victory fails to see one of Jasper's flailing arms which catches me sharply on the chin, causing me to bite down hard on my tongue. Cursing, I release my hold on his ear, allowing Jasper to regain his balance and tackle me to the hard unforgiving ground. As I thrash around wildly on my back I discover that my technique, or rather my lack of technique needs much improvement. Then before my reflexes can react, the slimy bastard pulls my arm in a painful lock behind my back.

"OW, OW, OW, OWWWWW!" I have to hand it to him, for all the grief I give Jasper about having effeminate tendencies, he sure can handle himself in a scuffle. I remind myself to ask him about this move in the future.

"You. Are. Such. A. Pain. In the arse!" His ragged breathes tell me that the fight was not so easily won. A little bit of my pride is restored. "I'll tell you alright? They're going to drop you off at Port Isabella when we dock tonight!"

Jasper drops my arm, but the feeling of releif is bitter-sweet.

To find that the place that has become my home no longer wants me gracing it's glorious deck is a definate blow to my senses.

Without warning, I turn on my heel and take off wildly. My head is reeling from utter truth, which feels as if it has carved a gaping hole of misery into my stomach. I pay no heed to the disgruntled crew members who curse me for my carlessness as I dodge there bodies clumsily in a desperate attempt to get to a place that has been specifically laid out as forbidden to me: Jack's cabin.

I stagger to the double doors, gasping for air. The weathered frame looms ominously over my doubled over form, giving me the eerie feeling like I'm awaitng judgement at the very gates of Heaven itself. Or Hell. Most likely Hell.

I watch the rusty knob.

It could use some cleaning, actually.

A little spit shine would do the trick. Maybe then I'll be able to see my reflection in it-- a dirty face staring in, daring myself to twist it and permit myself entrance.

I do.

I already have a mini speech formed in my head, a montage of pleas and promises that I'll be good. Unfortunately when the cabin doors swing open, spilling the harsh caribbean sun into the darkened room, the distinct shrill of a woman's scream beats the words from floating to my lips. It seems that I have walked in on the passionate embrace of Jack and his, uh, pleasurable company for the night. Shit.

Fortunately for my fragile and easily tainted young mind, the undoubtedly nakedness of both subjects is hidden by a sheer bedsheet. Miss Blue Eyes, the unfamilar guest sharing Jack's bed and the suddenly modest and reformed prostitute, hugs the sheets to her chest, all the while shrieking her bloody head off.

"OUT OUT OUT OUT!!!!" Jack roars, sitting up, and giving me a perfect view of the tanned expance of his chest. Apparently he has decided that shirts are a nusiance and not a nessesity to life. Miss Blue Eyes seems to think the same about dresses.

A ragged boot soars by my head, causing me to tear my gaze away from the sight of tangled legs and bedsheets and slam the door shut, in case of more flying projectiles. As I mumble hurried apologies through the wood, I think of how this was deffinately not how I imagined things would go. How was I supposed to know that Jack picked up more than a nuisance stowaway at the last port? I was, after all, confined to a stuffy closet for the first days of my journey.

A voice rings out from beyond the door. "Ja-ackkkk, who was that?"

"A DAMNED DEAD GIRL!" is the gruff response. This is my cue to run.

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"Right, right. But didja see the breasts??"

For the millionth time, I assure the eager sailors sitting like innocent babes in a semi circle around me that almost all dignity was preserved from my intrusion. The disappointment on their faces is enough to make any ole mum's heart bleed.

After my quick departure from the cabin, I immediately sought out Jasper, someone I knew I could confess to the latest of my misadventures. However what started as a single astonished face quickly transformed into a full on storytime to at least half the crew. Even the ever pious Mista Gibbs, came about, wanderin' like he's checkin' the ropes, or somethin' or other.

Ah, but alas, what seems to be my debut as a grand story teller also seems to be my finale curtain drop. Jack enters the scene, stage right, and he is mighty pissed off.

"Sorree gents, but it seems that our time is up. Ta-ta for now!" This is met with hearty groans and "Already? She was jus' gettin' to the good part!"'s.

I weasle my small body past the crowd of men before I am sighted by the hawk like eyes of Jack. I am successful in this feat, but before I get a chance to lay out the welcome party to Lady Luck, who appears to have returned to me from a temporary vacation in the North, I run into the second worse possible person. Miss Blue Eyes.

"Oh!" She gasps, laying a milky white hand to her chest. I find, to my great pleasure, that she and her dress have set aside their differences, and reunited.

"Er, uh...ya..."

Small talk was never one of my strength. Especially when I've already seen the person's skivvies, dangling carelessly from a lantern.

So, as I struggle inwardly to find a proper conversational topic for Miss Blue, let me describe her to you.

She is beautiful, of course, for there is no other type of female companion for Jack. Her eyes are that gushy blue that is described in metaphors involving "saphires", and "oceans", and other things that make me want to gag. She is not exceptionally tall, but is still quite taller than me. My head reaches just above her bosum, which is by the way perfect, but I bet you've guessed that already. In other words, men will throw themselves at this angel--while tripping over me in the process--in a futile attempt to be fortunate enough to have those azure eyes flicker with disinterest at their inferior faces for a mere second.

"You are uh, ze le fille that walks in on me and my Jacque, no?" The wench is a frenchie. I find this strange considering the port that I came from is a colony of Her Majesty.

"Yes...that'd be me," I murmer, my face warmin' with shame. "My name is Felicity."

"Oh such a adorable name for the leetle fille de pirate!" She decides to emphasize this point by planting a wet kiss on each of my cheeks.

"Thanks," I growl, rubbin' the side o' me face raw with the inside of my sleeve. "What be your name madem-mo-zel?"

"Tch," She chides, furrowing her brow. "You English, always your butchering of ze le français. Anyways, I do not remember my name. I 'ave...oh...what you say...amnesia...yes it is amnesia."

My eyebrows shoot up. "What has Jack been callin' ya then?"

The Name-Less Frenchie Who I Will Name In The Near Future blows a lock of hair from her face in shallow fustration showing that all is not well in paradise. "Jacque, he calls me many different names...I think they are names of ze other women, but he says ees not true."

I can't help but snort.

"Ha, you laugh," She snarls, showing that even she has fangs. "But let me tell you, I am very im-por-tant to Jacque. The only thing that I do remember ees that my father was ze famous pirate Pierre Lafitte."

That's convenient.

"And," Miss Hoity Toity spits showing that she's not done. "He left me weeth a special key opens much treasure! All we need now ees the map that ees in ze hands of zat awful Captain Wolfe."

"And where does zat awful Captain Wolfe preside?"

"At ze next port. Infact I think eet is right there on ze horizon!"

I spin around, and my heart sinks. Sure enough, there is port, my last stop.

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So what do ya think about Miss I Have Amnesia But Yet I Remember My Dad's A Famous Pirate And Left Me With A Key And Oh Yea I'm Smokin' Hott? Seem familiar? Like she's been in every other POTC fanfiction? Good. Because she represents all that is Mary-Sue, channelled into one foreign hottie.