Disclaimer: Squirrel is intellectual property of moi, POTC belongs in every aspect to Disney.

A/N: This part of the story takes place after the discovery of the Grey family treasure but before Squirrel returns to Tortuga. If you haven't read the first story, then (obviously) this sequel will make no sense to you. But, now, without further ado… SQUIRREL 2! … Man, I suck at names for stories…


Squirrel sits up, panting, cold sweat on her face and neck. It takes about a minute for her breathing to return to normal.

The room is dark, and sways back and forth slightly. Squirrel calms herself. She's still on the Pearl. It was just a dream. Just a bad dream. She swallows, still panting, then swings herself out of bed. Quietly, so as not to wake anyone, she drapes her blue-grey cloak around her shoulders and goes up onto the deck.

She sleeps in a combined cabin with the rest of the crew now. It had taken a while for her to get over her shyness of everyone on board, but at least Anamaria and Mister Gibbs were friendly. Mister Cotton's parrot as well, but apparently the bird only hung around Squirrel for free food. At least, that's what Mister Cotton 'says'.

Squirrel looks up at the stars studding the black velvet sky, munching on a handful of nuts. The strange dreams still linger in her memory, terrifying her. She shivers, and rubs her arms in the cool sea air. Briefly, she considers going back below for her shanghai, and to practise on the deck, but then dismisses the idea. She might wake someone up. Besides, she doesn't feel like practising tonight.

The memory of the dream, in its entirety, leaps in front of her. Squirrel shudders again, and to distract herself, walks over to the stern and starts singing to herself softly.

"Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me. We're rascals, scoundrels, villains, and knaves, Drink up, me 'earties, yo ho. We're devils and black sheep, really bad eggs, drink up, me 'earties, yo ho. Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me..."

Squirrel looks up into the vast expanse of stars that shine above her. Yes, she's a pirate now, aboard the most infamous ship in the Spanish Main - The Black Pearl. Considering how her life was before, it's a vast improvement. Especially considering the benefits.

Squirrel turns her trademark shade of red with a smile. Captain Jack Sparrow. Yes, he was definitely a benefit. Ever since she had seen him, years ago, in the tavern on Tortuga, she was head-over-heels in love with him. And Jack had said pretty much the same thing about her, upon the discovery of the Grey family cache. Squirrel smiles fondly at the memory of her first kiss, her face reddening even further.

The dream rears its ugly head again, sending a cold chill down Squirrel's spine, perishing all of her happy thoughts. Squirrel shakes herself, frowning. It was only a dream. A bad dream. A very bad dream, but still only a dream.

With a sigh, Squirrel adjusts her cloak closer around her, then leaps up into the rigging, clambering into the crow's-nest. From her usual perch high on the Pearl, Squirrel can see for miles. The waves break gently against the Pearl, making the ship sway in the water, making it tug gently on the anchor chain. With the dream continuing to taunt her, Squirrel gives up trying to get some sleep, and simply spends the rest of the night watching the slow spiral of the stars in the sky.

Morning comes softly, spreading its warm light over the whole ocean. Squirrel watches it, and feels a slow sense of relief wash over her. It was only a dream. The dawn alone is testimony to that. Squirrel sits in the warm red light for a few moments before clambering back down the rigging and to the galley.

Most of the crew are wide awake already, and look up as Squirrel comes below.

"Where were you?" Anamaria asks, voice harsh. Squirrel had grown used to the fact that Ana was as temperamental as the sea itself. "Your bunk was empty even before I woke up!" Ana was usually the earliest riser. That partly explained her mood.

Squirrel shrugs. "I had a bad d-dream."

Mister Gibbs looks up from his bowl of porridge. "Best not be a-tellin' us about it. 'Tis bad luck to be recountin' dreams before breakfast, it is."

Squirrel forces a laugh. "So's having a w-woman aboard."

"And black people." Ana chips in with a smirk.

"And people with brown eyes." Another crew member adds. Squirrel and Ana flutter their eyelashes teasingly.

"People with red hair!"

"People with flat feet!"

"People with narrow heads!"

"And," Squirrel grins, "L-let's n-not forget p-people with 'Thpeech impedimeth!'" She laughs, for real this time. Mister Gibbs scowls.

"Alright!" He mutters. "So Jack has a motley crew. But if you ask me, he's invitin' much bad luck."

"I doubt it." Ana grins, passing a bowl of porridge to Squirrel. "Jack Sparrow makes his own luck."

"I c-could second th-that." Squirrel smiles, tucking into her breakfast. By now, everyone aboard the Pearl knew about Squirrel's skill in the game of chance, and the way she was unable to read Jack's luck. Jack Sparrow has, as Squirrel put it, 'a luck of his own'.

"In accordance with Mister Gibbs' largely unheard requests," Ana smirks, "Finish your breakfast before you tell me about your dream." She shoots a look at Gibbs. "At least I'm willing to listen!"

Squirrel chokes on her porridge, trying not to laugh, at the look on Gibbs' face.

"The evil eye!" He cries. "I've been plagued by the evil eye!"

Ana cackles.


A/N: All that stuff about the people who are bad luck is true - well, true enough as far as superstitions go.