Disclaimer: I don't own it. Everything you recognise
belongs to Disney. No infringement
is intended and I'm certainly
not making any money from this story.
Summary: An
unexpected meeting sends Jack and Elizabeth into a headlong flight. Part
of my J/E storyline, it takes place sometime after "White Squall". If you haven't read the
other fics, you should know that this is set several years after the movie and Elizabeth is
a widow.
Author's note: A Christmas gift for my dear friend Geek
Mama.
Turnabout
by Hereswith
Chapter 1
with haste, but she was winded and had the beginnings of a stitch in her side. "'Back on the
Pearl before dusk'."
"Now,
to be fair, love," Jack interjected, "I didn't know Lynch'd be there.
He and Obadiah
haven't exactly been on the friendliest of terms, in the
past."
She glanced at him, recalling the harsh exchange of words
that she had overheard, just prior to
their precipitate flight. "Is it
true you killed his brother?"
"Aye." He grimaced. "Some years since, in an honest enough fight, as it were, though Lynch
would never own to it."
His expression was uncommonly severe, a telltale sign that the situation was dire, indeed, and
Elizabeth frowned. "Who is he?"
Jack
was silent at first, then said, "Pirate. But not a good man." He
indicated her attire: the
coat, the breeches and the hat. "You'd be
worth more to him alive, should he discover you're
not—what you seem."
"Oh." A chill of fright went down her spine as the full implication of his words sank in. "But—"
"That's him! Pearce, get yerself over here, now!"
Jack cursed, taking hold of her arm and propelling her forward. "Go!"
There
were two of them, as far as she could make out from a brief look back:
an older, balding
man, who had already given chase, and his dark-haired
comrade, Pearce, trailing slightly behind.
Lynch wasn't with them, so
the crewmembers must have split up to widen the search; she had
only
glimpsed him once, through the crack of a half-closed door, but she
would have recognised
him by the crooked scar on his cheek.
They
dashed across a nearly deserted market square, with Elizabeth in the
lead, then, at Jack's
urging, past a butcher's stall and down a narrow,
dirty street, where the gutters were clogged
with filth. The pirates
were hard on their heels, she could hear them shouting and she
lengthened
her strides, dreading the whine of a stray bullet. After a
long straight stretch the street veered
to the left and Elizabeth took
the corner too sharply, almost tripping over the dead cat that lay
directly in her path. She stumbled, losing her balance, and fell to her
knees, crying out in pain.
Jack skidded to a halt, turning
towards her, and their pursuers caught up with them in that
instant.
While the older one set upon Jack, Pearce roughly grabbed Elizabeth by
the shoulders
and pulledher up. She resisted, hitting him where she
could and kicking out, and he could not
maintain his grasp; she stomped
on his foot, wrested free and swirled on him, drawing her
sword.
"Think
ye can stand against me, boy?" Pearce scorned. He was taller than she
was, but not
by much, and fairly skinny, his nose beaked above a
drooping moustache. "Let's see ye try,
then!" He lunged at her,
brandishing his own blade.
She was quick and light and Will had
taught her much, as had Jack. She had learned how to
fence so that she
made the most of her strengths, always keeping her opponent on edge. It
was not quite so uneven a match as Pearce had obviously expected, and
when Elizabeth
managed to slide her sword under his guard, cutting him
so that blood was spilt, he let out
a stream of foul expletives and his
smirk changed to an ugly snarl.
They circled each other,
feinting, and though she spotted Jack further off, engaged in a fierce
struggle, she could not afford to let her attention waver. She parried
and thrust again, beads
of sweat trickling down her temple. Pearce
countered, nicking her arm in the process and
she flinched, dodging as
he charged anew. Her muscles started to protest, straining against
the
force of his blows, but anger made him clumsy and Elizabeth, finding
another opening,
struck. The pirate twisted, but could not evade the
stroke that gashed his leg. Growling in
fury, he moved in on her fast,
before she could retreat, dropped his sword and whipped out
a knife.
Elizabeth stilled, completely, as cold metal was pressed against her
throat.
"I'll slit ye from ear to ear," Pearce threatened, his breath hot and fetid. "Bleed ye out like
a pig."
"Wouldn't do that if I was you, mate. Let the lad go."
Relief
coursed through her, and though she could not turn her head and look at
Jack, she
could guess at what occurred, there was no mistaking the
click of a pistol being cocked.
"Sparrow!" Pearce spat, with considerable venom.
"Captain Sparrow," Jack chided. "And I'd recommend you not do anything foolish. Let
him go."
Pearce
shifted his grip on the knife and Elizabeth whispered a prayer, her
insides clenching
in sheer panic. But he lowered the weapon instead, as
if he meant to comply, then, all of
a sudden, shoved her out of the way
and went for Jack. A shot rang out and Pearce slumped
heavily to the
ground.
Elizabeth staggered, and supported herself against the
nearest wall, the smell of gunpowder
masking the stench of rot and
death. She raised her fingers to her throat and they came
away
trembling and stained with red, a few drops, nothing more, the wound
was slight,
but she bent forward, feeling dizzy.
After a moment, Jack's boots entered her field of vision, and his hand touched her back.
"All right?"
"Yes."
She straightened gingerly, sheathed her sword and ensured that her hat
was securely
on, averting her eyes from Pearce's corpse.
"You did well," he said, and his smile was a glimmer of warmth, for which she was infinitely
grateful.
"I could have done better. He surprised me." Elizabeth bit her lip, remembering. "Thank you."
Jack put his right palm to his chest and gave a small bow. "My pleasure, darling."
A
huff of laughter escaped her, at that, but it soon faded. Voices wafted
through the night air,
a sobering reminder that their predicament had
yet to be resolved.
"Come!" said Jack, and she followed him as
he headed down the street, past the sprawling
body of the second, now
forever nameless, man.
They stayed close to the houses, and
the shadows that had not been scattered by lanterns,
or by the moon,
shining high above. There were people about, but not so many that they
could easily slip into a crowd and disappear. And Jack Sparrow, Captain
Jack Sparrow,
was not so nondescript that his passage went unremarked.
When Elizabeth told Jack of her concerns, he chuckled, "Are you saying I'm too conspicuous,
love?"
"Well," she began. "Yes. They know you, Jack, Lynch knows you. And the Pearl—the
cove's on the other side of the town."
"True," he said, then stopped, so abruptly that she bumped into him. "Ah!"
Elizabeth
thought the worst, until she realised that he was gazing at a bustling
tavern, up ahead.
"Jack?" she asked, warily, as he began walking in
that very direction. "What are you intending
to do?"
"Find a woman," he said.
She blinked, confused. "Are you jesting?"
"On so serious a matter? Never." He grinned at her, all effulgence, all innocence, and it did
not reassure her one whit.