Remember Me {Pirates of the Caribbean}

Chapter 1

Will had the uncomfortable feeling that he was being watched. The Tortuga taverngoers were loud and rowdy, but beneath all the noise he could feel someone's eyes trained on him. He scanned the room, trying to be inconspicuous about it. Aha! In the far corner sat a group of pirates, and among them was a teenage girl, hands wrapped idly around a mug. Her vivid green eyes were fixed on him with an intensity that made him uneasy. She looked vaguely familiar, though he knew he couldn't have seen her before. Their staring stalemate stretched longer and longer until a man sitting beside the girl nudged her arm and said something. She turned away to reply, and at that moment Jack tapped Will on the shoulder.
"Let's go back to the ship, boy. Mister Gibbs will find us a crew by morning."

"So this is your able-bodied crew?" Will asked doubtfully. After watching the exchange between Jack, the sailor called Cotton, and his parrot, his only reply to Jack's question of "Satisfied?" was, "Well, you've proved they're mad."
"What's the benefit for us?" snapped a voice from further down the line.
Jack strode down and carefully removed the hat of the person who'd spoken, to reveal a woman. "Anamaria."
It was clear that Anamaria and Jack had met; she opened conversation by slapping him in the face. Jack's cheek must be getting sore, Will reflected. This was the third time he'd been slapped in the last twenty-four hours.
"I suppose you didn't deserve that one, either," Will joked.
Jack winced. "No, that one I deserved."
"You stole my boat!" Anamaria told him furiously.
"Actually–" Jack tried to correct her but received only another slap. That made four. Undaunted, he continued, "–borrowed. Borrowed without permission. But with every intention of returning it to you."
"But you didn't!"
"You'll get another one."
"I will." She wagged her finger at Jack.
Will decided he'd better help Jack out of this, or they'd be here all day. "A better one," he suggested.
Jack jumped on the suggestion gratefully, and it didn't take long before all the crew were in agreement. A shout of "Aye!" went up from all throats as they moved off to prepare to board.

"It's frightful bad luck to bring a woman aboard, sir," Gibbs protested, once he was sure he was out of Anamaria's hearing.
"It'd be far worse not to have her," Jack began but was interrupted by another voice. "Where does that tale come from? We're not bad luck! We could well be useful to you, as a matter of fact."
Jack spun around. "We?"

At the end of the line stood a smaller figure wearing a hooded brown cloak, the hood drawn up to hide the face beneath.
"Yes. We." The figure tossed its hood back to reveal a girl of around seventeen with choppy, shoulder-length brown hair, staring at Jack as though daring him to comment on her youthful appearance. So, of course, Jack decided he'd see what would happen if he did. The girl looked fairly seasoned, with a sword at her left side and a dagger at her right, but carrying weapons didn't mean you necessarily knew how to use them. She wore a sleeveless off-white shirt, knotted at the waist, and tight black pants cut off at mid-calf; she had fingerless black gloves on both hands and was barefoot. An old burn scar traced the line of her left cheekbone, and she had a few tattoos on her arms- one on each wrist, neither of which could be easily seen, and a double row of black diamonds around her upper arm, on her right bicep. She kept her glare fixed on Jack as she bundled her cloak into the cloth bag she was carrying; when she moved one or two small plaits in her hair could be seen, with small metallic beads on the ends of them. She might be for real, or an excellent pretender. One way to find out.

"Kid," Jack started. "This is a piracy expedition, not a daycare centre."
The girl drew her knife and placed it against Jack's throat so fast he barely saw her move. "If you call me a kid one more time..." She trailed off, pressing her dagger slightly harder into the soft flesh under Jack's chin. "I'm coming, whether you like it or not. I've got a score to settle with Barbossa."
Jack opened his mouth, but she forestalled him.
"I've also got a very sharp dagger that is currently not far from cutting your throat. So watch your mouth, Sparrow."
Silence. Then Jack began to laugh.
"You're my kind of person," he grinned, stepping back. "Yeah, alright, ki-" He paused. "You can come. Just try to refrain from killing any of the crew, alright, feisty?"
She didn't move, still glaring at him. The rest of the crew began to board as they lost interest in the scene unfolding before them.
"What's your name?" Will asked suddenly.
"Gale," she replied, slowly sheathing her blade. Then she vaulted over the Interceptor's rail, ran lightly to the ropes beside the mainmast and had climbed a few metres before anyone realised what was going on. Her bag now lay at the base of the mast, though no one had seen her put it down.
"I'll be up here if you want me. Are we going or not?"
Will glanced up at Gale, who had climbed even higher. Her emerald eyes were familiar, somehow. Not just their colour, but also the fiery glare that seemed to be her default expression. Then it hit him. This was the girl from the tavern, who'd been watching him. But the defiant tilt of her jaw and her confident, clear voice struck a chord in his memory too. Something told him that he'd seen her even before the tavern staring match, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out where.