Disclaimer: However much I wish I owned Jack Sparrow and said characters in this here little fic, I don't.

A/N: This story takes place just a few days before our favorite pirate (no, not the whelp!) begins his journey in the Disney Movie.

Jack Sparrow sighed to himself and ordered another round of rum. This was his second day in Tortuga, and even though he was on important business, Jack was enjoying the trip. The English soldiers couldn’t get him, he was surrounded by other pirates, the rum was excellent, and the wenches…well, the wenches were beautiful, but they were not the reason he was here.

Jack needed information and quickly. He had heard rumors that the Black Pearl had been sighted recently near Tortuga, and he wanted to know when and where exactly. Jack gulped down his fourth mug and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. As soon as he got his hands on Barbossa…

Nearly eight years ago, Jack had been captain of the same Black Pearl he sought. He and the crew were headed to the island of Isla de la Muerta, told to be full of treasure—cursed treasure. One morning, Jack’s first mate, Barbossa, suggested to Jack that an even share should go to everyone, including the food, treasure, and course information. Stupidly, Jack had agreed, and told his crew everything. That night there had been a mutiny. Barbossa took command of the ship, and the crew marooned Jack on an island to die. Luckily for Jack, the illegal Rum Runners came by three days later and Jack had been able to barter a passage off the island.

Only a few days later, however, the ship had been caught and everyone on board arrested. After nearly six months in jail, Jack was given a pardon, but branded with a “P” for Pirate, to remind him of his “evil crimes.”

Absentmindedly, Jack folded up his sleeve and traced with his finger the small P. It no longer hurt him to touch it, but the thought that the whole crew had deserted him—well; Jack had to admit Bootstrap Bill had not been at fault.

Bootstrap Bill, or known to Jack as William Turner, had been his best friend for a very, very long time. Although Will could not be allowed the position of first mate, Will signed on the Black Pearl anyway, and became one of the finest pirates Jack had ever known. The day Jack had been forced to walk the plank; he took one last look back, and saw William Turner’s eyes filled with tears. As he jumped off, Jack in his heart forgave his friend. William alone had a wife and son to take care of back home in England. William could not afford to be deserted on an island to die, even standing up for his friend.

WHAM! Jack snapped back to reality as a fight erupted at the tables next to him. He escaped from the center of the fight and retreated to a table in the far back of the bar. There he sat, alone, glancing at the door yet again for the men he was supposed to see. They still had not arrived.

Upon arriving in Tortuga, Jack had quickly discovered that the Black Pearl had been seen off shore not more than a week ago. Three men told Jack they would meet with him at the local pub the following evening. They would talk about the whereabouts of the ship; for a fee. Luckily, it was very small, and Jack did not mind spending the money—

“Is this spot occupied?” Someone asked. Jack glanced up into the face of a tall black Caribbean woman. She pulled over a chair and sat down across from Jack. In her hand she held a glass full of rum; he could smell it. The woman glanced over her shoulder and commented, “This is the only quiet table here. I will be gone in a moment, sir, because I would like to go fishing before it becomes too late.”

The woman pushed her hat black onto her head and took a sip of the rum. Jack watched her, noting the fact she had on pants and a shirt, not a dress. Jack glanced at the door again, yet the men still had not arrived. He pondered what the woman had said for a second.

“Fishing at sundown; not a very good idea, is it ma’am?” said Jack, leaning across the table to her. “What will make the fish come out after feeding time?”

The woman smiled. “I have lived in the islands of the Caribbean all my life. My papa and mama taught me all there is to know about the fish here. Most people would think they had already eaten, and had gone back to wherever fish spend the lonely night hours.” The woman paused, and got closer so Jack would hear her through the shouting. “But the fish begin to eat around this time. It is not only when they can get the most food, it is when I can get the best fish.”

The woman took another sip of her drink. “I have a small boat I use for going out fishing. It is probably not very seaworthy, but good for what I need to do with it.”

Jack nodded. “And that would be..?”

The woman frowned. “I just told—“and then she started over. “Who are you, anyway?”

Jack had been expecting this. He sat up tall in his chair, grasped his empty mug lightly, and proclaimed, “I’m the great Captain Jack Sparrow. I have never been caught, there’s never been a problem I can’t handle,” Jack smiled widely, “and I like rum. How’s bout yourself?”

He had hoped to make an impression on the woman, but she just drained her mug of rum, slammed it on the table and said, “I’m AnaMaria. I’ve been born and raised in the Caribbean. I also have noticed that three men are asking for you over at the counter.”

Jack jumped up. He could spot three gruff looking men talking to the bartender, and he pointed to the table where Jack had been sitting ten minutes beforehand.

AnaMaria stood up. “Thank you for the company.” She said. “Now you and I must go our separate ways. Good-day to you, Jack Sparrow.”

“Captain Jack Sparrow,” muttered Jack as the men made their way towards him. Jack sat down again and watched AnaMaria leave. He sincerely hoped the following conference would help him find the Black Pearl…