Disclaimer: I do not own Will, Jack, Elizabeth, Jewel, or Madonna.
Note: This story is just me being really random, and tired. Everybody is really out of charcter, and there is not apparent plot. Just people gettin' stuck in Jail. Oooh, exicting. This is not Morning News...
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Will's heart was pounding against his rib cage, His Wife, in JAIL? He actually didn't have any idea what she had done. He certainly hadn't been there at the time, but rather at McDonald's, to escape the insesent bickering over who drank the last of the Rum. Jack, it turned out, liked it with a splash of Gatorade.
Will had just been calmly ordering his Big Mac without onions, when a Cop burst into the place, looking very mencaing with snow still in his hair. Will didn't really notice him at first, since he was trying to make the Cashier understand why he didn't like onions.
"But, Sir-" She said.
"They're so spicy, they make my nose feel like it's on fire."
"Sir, the Big Mac doesn't have onions on it."
The Cop poked Will in the back, "Sir," He said, in a deep rumbly voice, that carried all around the room, "Are you Mister Will Turner?"
Will nodded numbly. "Yes sir."
"Good."
Then the Cop walked out, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket as he did so.
"Well," Will said, to the Cashier, "How about that Big Mac?"
So, now, Will was standing the Jail parking lot, praying that Elizabeth hadn't done anything... stupid.
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Elizabeth was shooting Jack dirty looks, Jack, however, seem oblivious to them.
"This is all your fault!" She finally burst out, putting a special emphasis on 'all'.
"All mine? Darling, if you hadn't run out of the Apartment, then chucked the Gatorade at the Empire State Building, we wouldn't be here."
"It only broke a few windows, and anyways, I hate Gatorade."
"You hated Gatorade. And, those few windows will cost you an entire savings account to pay for."
"Oh, do I suddenly love something, I'm like, allergic to? No, they won't. They won't cost me money. And, besides, if you hadn't made me so damn mad, I wouldn't have done thrown it at the Empire State Building. I would have flushed it down the toilet or something. That's what I was planning to do, until you poured that whole bottle of rum over me."
"You do not have an allergy to Gatorade. Trust me. Oh, am I paying then? I think not, YOU broke those windows. YOU where asking for a bottle of rum poured over you. Just asking. Get a life Mrs. Turner."
That was when Will walked in, looking, according to Elizabeth, hotter then Brad Pitt, with a large clump of snow stuck to his Pea Coat.
"Will!" Elizabeth screamed, throwing herself against the bars of the cell.
Will ran over to her, and grabbed her hands in his own, then he noticed Jack, leaning against the wall, with a satisfied smirk on his face. He nearly dropped Elizabeth's hands in surprise.
"J-j-jack." He stammered, searching desperately for the right term.
"Hello." Jack said, coolly, "Mrs. Turner and I where just having another highly entertaining row."
"They put you in ONE jail cell?" Will finally managed to choke.
Jack shrugged, "It wasn't my decsion, and anyways, you're here to bail us out, right?"
To which Will replied, somewhat doefully, "Yes."
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Life fell back into it's normal rotuine. Will waking up to the sounds of Jack and Elizabeth arguing over who should go down to the Liquor Store for more imported rum. Will taking a shower with one of Elizabeth's Madonna CDs turned up full blast to try to drown out Jack and Elizabeth fighting over who gets the first sip. And, finally, Will yelling good-bye to be heard over the dulcet tones of Jewel. Will was very glad to get out of the Apartment everyday, even though he had no idea went on there during the day.
It was just Elizabeth, Jack, and the Stereo. Oh, and five bottles of imported Rum, from Cuba none the less. And twenty open bottles of Grape Gatorade.
Today, though, was very different. Elizabeth had to go shopping. Shopping with Jack was never fun, Elizabeth discovered, after a fateful trip to Jefferson Market, in which Jack held up an entire aisle while deciding what brand of potato chips to get. Jack didn't even eat potato chips.
Jack didn't eat a lot of things. Jack liked McDonald's. Will liked Pizza Hut. And Elizabeth liked Number One Noodle Son. So, it was always a chore to order dinner. Will was flexible, and would eat almost any form of take-out. But Jack would not. If he had to have take-out, he insisted on McDonald's.
Elizabeth had eaten more Filet-o-fishes in one week, the most people do in their entire lifetime. With some Rum on the side, they weren't bad. Living with Jack was just plain exasting. And expensive.
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Will didn't honestly know how long he'd be able to put up with his wife, he honestly didn't. It's one thing to throw Gatorade at the Empire State Building, but quite another to nick five cases of Rum from the Olde Liquor Store. Like they didn't already have enough Rum. Now they had even more. And, two months in Jail. Will found it very weird to wake up to silence, and even weirder to out of habit turn on the Madonna CD, but have nothing to drown out. Just silence, blissful, un-ending silence. No yelling about Rum. No Jewel. Total silence.
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Jack was sitting on the bed in the jail cell next to Elizabeth, who was laughing so hard she was crying.
"J-j-j-j-jack." She spluttered.
"Well," Jack looked slightly ticked off, "We have to pay for the windows somehow."
"Pass the rum," Elizabeth choked.
Jack moved his hands around, as though he was passing a Rum bottle to Elizabeth. She pretended to drink it. She laughed some more, and flopped her head onto Jack's shoulder.
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Will was pacing the Apartment, yelling at every single picture. Wedding. Parties. Whatever the picture, his yell was the same.
"I HATE YOU!"
He came upon a picture of Jack and Elizabeth, two copies, actually, one in his and Elizabeth's bedroom, and one in Jack's. It was a sweet picture really, Jack had his arm around Elizabeth, and a rum bottle in the other. They where staring into each others faces. But, for some un-explainable reason, Will took both pictures, and tossed them out the window.
The Turner's lived in a Apartment on the Thirty-first floor, so the pictures took a while to fall. Down, and down they tumbled, silver frames glittering in the weak winter sunlight. Then. CRASH!
Will stumbled backwards into the coffee table, as though hit.
He had just smashed a picture, by throwing it out the window. Him. William Turner. Kind-loving. Gentle. Loyal. He had just thrown a picture out the window. That was such a Jack thing to do. Oh, ugg.
He sucked on the rum bottle, extracting the last drops, like a vacuum cleaner. Will was horribly ashamed abut how he had acted. Honestly, throwing such a sweet picture out the window. Or was it? Maybe it had been the right thing to do. After all, Elizabeth could love Jack. Will was shocked. He had never thought about that.
Could Elizabeth love Jack?
"No, don't be stupid." He said, shaking his head.
Even though he said that, he couldn't fall asleep that night.
Jail was supposed to be a time of grief. A time to think about the bad things you did. But, not for Jack and Elizabeth. They carried on with life just like they did when they weren't in jail. They woke up, argued over the non-existent rum. Laughed themselves silly. And... well...
Finally, the two weeks where indeed up. And Jack and Elizabeth walked into the Apartment to find Will sitting on the couch, in sweatpants, flipping through the channels on the TV so fast everything was one big blur. He looked like he hadn't slept in days. Breeze from an open window fluttered across the room, sending a chill up Elizabeth's spine. She had a very bad feeling about all of this.
Elizabeth carefully picked her way around the scattered books, magazines, and empty rum bottles, to Will. His eyes flickered from the TV screen, to her, to Jack, then back to the TV.
"I threw a picture out the window." He said, in a hoarse monotone voice.
"What picture? I hope it's the stupid one of me reading Time Magazine."
"That one of you and Jack." He inclined his head ever so slightly at Jack.
All Hell broke lose, both Elizabeth and Jack started shouting at Will. And the TV blared the cheesy theme to The Price Is Right.
"Right," Will growled, after Elizabeth had run out of breath, and Jack had stormed off to the Liquor store, swearing under his breath, "It was a stupid picture anyways."
"You know full well that it is not!"
"It is. I don't see why'd you want a photo of you and Jack anyways."
Elizabeth flopped down on the couch next to him, "Don't think too hard. It'll wear your brain out."
"I think you love him." Will said, very casually, while flipping from The Price is Right, to Who Wants To Be A Millionaire.
"I what?" Elizabeth asked, lowering Time Magazine.