Ok, I know it's a funny concept: Roman Torchwick meets Captain Jack Sparrow. Yet again I've been put up to it by my friends. I do not own any character in the following story (sadly). Let's just go with it: savvy?

Roman Torchwick strode down to the docks with a rare and secret smile concealed carefully in the corner of his mouth. Still maintaining the proper air of disdainful

arrogance, he hid from the world his glee at the forthcoming completion of his great plan- It's all coming together marvellously, he revelled quietly. Nothing can stop

me now.

As a remarkably genre-savvy crook, Torchwick should have known better than to tempt fate like this: but no sooner than he'd celebrated quietly, he noticed a small

boat bobbing up to the wide, new docks of Vale.

The very docks he needed to clear for the loading of the dust his team had spent so much time collecting.

It better not be those girls again.

Losing his short-lived smile, Roman stormed down to the rather horrible little boat, with a sail made of hardly more than a wind-torn bit of rag.

What the heck?

Out of it jumped a fairly young man with heavily tanned skin. He looked around, squinted into the sunlight, turned back to glance at his boat and discovered that it

was gone - sinking under the water until only the top of the sail was visible.

The man, who wore a red bandanna, beads, dreadlocks and altogether too many assorted peices of cloth tied about him, turned to the tall, white-suited redhead and grinned brightly.

"Hello. Where am I?"

Torchwick stared.

"What the hell are you doing, docking your ship in OUR port?!" Roman spluttered.

"I dock my boat where I like, mate," the man said, walking slowly forward with a swaying, unco-ordinated gait. His hands flew up to illustrate his point: "And as you

can see, I did not dock my boat. Indeed, I do not have a boat to dock."

Roman kept staring. The man smiled, and the glint of a gold tooth matched the mischieveous glint in his brown eyes. Torchwick suddenly noticed a dark, tattooed 'P'

on the man's wrist - in any country, anybody knew what that meant.

He's a pirate.

"Who do you think you are?" Roman demanded with a gesture so extravagant it was nearly comical.

"I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, mate," the man announced as though it was obvious, leaning into Roman's face. His breath smelled like rum and the sea. Roman wrinkled

his nose and leaned back a little, further narrowing his bright green eyes. "...Savvy?"

"Do you know who you're talking to?" Roman accused, loftily eyeing the shorter man. When Roman was annoyed, his disdainful green-eyed gaze, provoking flash of

bright orange hair and curled lip screamed it out without him having to say a word.

"...Usually don't," Sparrow smiled infuriatingly. "Have I threatened you before?"

"I am Roman Torchwick, official organiser of a... small... operation leading the White Fang itself."

Torchwick's black-gloved fingers ran over his cane. "Get out of my sight before I blast you to hell."

The pirate smiled. "I know a lot about hell, mate. And from the look of that hair, you do too."

Trying to keep his anger under control, Roman spared him an arrogant flick of his long red fringe.

"A broke, mangy and offensive pirate," he mocked. "It's a wonder you're still alive."

"And you're a white-coated rich toff who wears even more eyeliner than I do," Sparrow replied.

"And you call yourself a Captain without a crew or a ship," Roman concluded. "You are, without a doubt, the worst pirate I've ever seen."

There was a long pause.

"... You smell funny," Sparrow replied decidedly.

Roman sighed. "My patience is running out, so if you don't disappear right now, you'll be swimming with the fishes."

"And how do you suggest I leave without a ship? I can't," Jack said, forcing Torchwick to step back yet again.

Man, this guy doesn't understand the concept of personal space.

"So," Jack announced, wobbling slightly, "This will be the day you will always remember as the day you nearly defeated Captain Jack"-

Roman aimed his cane and shot. Sparrow ducked, drawing his sword. He glared at the cane as though it had insulted him.

"Cane's a gun? That's interesting."

Knowing he had only minutes to get rid of this idiot, Roman shot again but Sparrow parried his cane using his sword and stabbed - jumping about on light, quick feet.

Torchwick flicked the fringe from his eye and attacked again - trying to get a clean shot at Sparrow while the pirate parried and lunged, blocking the gun at every

move.

"Oh my, boy, you do need to get some practise on your swordplay."

Roman scowled. On his face, he even managed to make it look pretty.

Then he swept his cane under Sparrow's feet - he jumped over it and attacked with a swipe to the side. Roman stepped in behind the sword with his back to Jack and

blocked it with his cane, elbowing Sparrow from behind as hard as he could.

He heard a thump and an 'OW' as Jack doubled over.

"Bloody pirates," Torchwick muttered, turning around and brushing down his coat.

Jack straightened up. "We're not so different, you and I," he commented, still cringing from the blow. "Both terrible savvy swindlers in different clothes."

"I still prefer mine," Torchwick replied stiffly.

"And a similiar amount of eyeliner."

Torchwick sighed, being unable to ignore the fact that a scurvy pirate with only a sword managed to hold his own against him with Melodic.

"Fine. The public docks are that way - go down to that building and take the first left and you could barter a passage back to wherever you came from."

Jack smiled. "Thanks, mate."

He brushed past Roman as he sauntered towards the other ships. Roman laughed.

"I suggest you give me back my lighter, but you're still a broke pirate," Roman chuckled. "From one crook to another, keep the money."