AN: Okay, first of all: I know, this thing has been done before and that's why it says "another what if story" in the title. It's a little self-irony. And I want to apologize for spelling and grammar mistakes. English is my second language, but it shouldn't be too bad. I'm actually good at it (it's about the only lesson I'm good in).

Also, I won't be able to update until next weekend, because I'm away on a one-week class trip.

Prologue

Jack Sparrow sat in a dark corner of a bar in Tortuga, sullenly staring at the small bottle on the table in front of him.

17 years. 17 goddamn years and he still didn't know how to get the Pearl out of the bloody bottle. Obviously, his theory about the trumpets and weird finger wiggling didn't help at all, but that was to be expected. He had never been serious about it in the first place.

His staring was interrupted by two drunken pirates fighting, resulting in one of them landing on his table with a loud bang. The pirate's body missed the bottle by an inch and Jack quickly scooped it up into his arms, cradling the Pearl to his chest.

"Hey! Watch out! Don't you dare breaking me ship!"

The pirates didn't give him any attention but continued the fighting. Jack Sparrow sighed. Things had changed. His name wasn't a thread anymore. It seemed people had already forgotten how dreaded he had been all these years ago. Before he had left Angelica on the island and before he had started to spent all his time searching for a way to get his beloved ship out of the bottle. He had tried everything, without any success.

Someone snickered beside him and Jack lifted his gaze to see whoever it was. He could make out a rather petite, feminine frame casually leaning on the handle of their sword, which was stuck into the rotten ground of the bar.

"I see. You still haven't given up on that thing." The person stated in a clear, melodic voice that obviously belonged to a young female.

Jack looked the girl up and down, squinting his eyes and inspecting her. Long, dark hair fell in waves over her shoulders and the candlelight mirrored in her eyes. The dim light didn't allow him to see any details of her face.

He eyed her skeptically.

"Do I know you?"

She chuckled, pulling her sword out of the ground and sitting down across from him.

"No. But you should."

The girl sat nearer to the candle now and Jack could vaguely make out her features. She reminded him of someone, but he couldn't remember who it was. He shook his head. His mind must be playing tricks on him. Maybe he'd had too much rum tonight…

"So, you say I should know you…" he began, leaning across the table and a little closer to his new acquaintance. "So enlighten me, young lass. Who are you?"

"I won't tell you my name just yet." She said, batting her long lashes.

"And why's that?"

She smiled a sly smile of straight, white teeth.

"You might get scared…"