Author's Note: Yes. I told you I was going to write this. I told you all!! *points* And…it's taking time out of my OTHER fanfic writing that I said I was going to finish as well, but never got around to it… *whistles innocently* But…back on to the subject (there was a subject?).

This is my PotC (Pirates of the Caribbean) fanfic, and well…I've only seen the movie once. Unlike a certain friend I know who was able to see it *cough* seven and a half *cough* times. Lucky son ova…

No, the title has nothing to do with the storyline AT ALL. Woop woop to randomness!

Conscience: JUST GET TO THE STORY ALREADY!

What? You think that people are actually reading this? You're crazy!

Conscience: That technically means you're crazy, ya know.

…Shut up.

"BUT WHY'S THE RUM GONE?!"

The unmistakable voice of none other than Captain Jack Sparrow rang through the empty airs of the sea. There he sat, in a slowly sinking boat in the middle of nowhere alongside three broken bottles of rum, a parasol, a golden plate, and a makeshift hammer (where the hammer came from is a mystery to me, perhaps it belonged to Will…most likely).

That last sentence had forty-five words. Can you say, run-on-sentence?

Captain Jack Sparrow eyed each of the three last mentioned items with his shifty eyes which had way too much mascara, and yet fit his features just so perfectly. "Which one of you bilge rats is the one who broke me bottles of rum?!"

Of course, seeing as each was an inanimate object, and I was in a lack of creativity to have them MAGICALLY become animated, there was no answer. However, this did not stop Captain Jack as he continued to pace the water-filling boat hands folded behind his back.

"One of you…ruined me rum…AND I WANT TO KNOW WHICH OF YA DID! Although I must congratulate you for just spillin' the contents and not burnin' it like that wench… WILL DESERVES SO MUCH BETTER!" With his sudden outburst, which trailed from spilt rum (hehe, no use crying over spilt rum) to Will (YAOI!) and the frantic waving of his hands about menacingly, he had leaned too far over the side of his small boat and tumbled into the water.

Look at that…another forty-five word-long sentence.

As his head sunk below the water's surface, his hat remained floating and started to trail away from its owner. The parasol, gold plate, and hammer however remained in their current positions in the sinking boat.

Breaking the surface with a gasping breath, Captain Jack eyed the boat, which was also floating away. "AVAST! You bring that back! Yer taken' me Will's hammer!" (Aha! Told you so.) In a moment of forgetfulness, or perhaps daftness, he let both hands fly from the water and touch the top of his head, where he thought his hat was. Quite oblivious to the fact that it was slowly but steadily floating away.

His head disappeared beneath the water again, and his voice gargled through the water. "WHERE'S ME HAT?!"

Obviously, this was NOT a day full of good karma for the terribly hot (so much that anyone would swoon) Captain Jack Sparrow. But, was there ever?

After what seemed like ages of floating on his back, in the completely still water, Jack felt the rough, course feeling of sand against his body. Opening his eyes, which had closed in the passing of time, he found himself on the beaches of a large island.

He blinked and ran a hand over his terribly sunburnt forehead. "Capture the Black Pearl and captain 'er for a day and ye get ye'self marooned on another island! What a life, this pirate stuff…"

Elsewhere…

The wondrous wonder of Third Person writing allows you to bounce wherever you want to in the story! Woo hoo!

"WIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILL!!!"

"Uh oh…" Will silently slipped out of the room, scurrying out of the house. Just as he shut the door a vase came smashing into the wood. He winced and scampered away from the building cringing terribly and clutching what seemed to be a sheathed sword to his chest.

Rounding a corner, and nearly bowling one of the passer-bys over, Will sped into his workshop and latched the door behind him. Panting he pressed his back to it, and whipped his brow which was sweating profoundly.

"She's known me for almost all my life, you'd think she'd get used to me referring to her as 'Ms. Swann' rather than 'Elizabeth'," he muttered quietly to himself. "She really has gotten out of hand…not the same person she used to be."

Walking over to the fire, Will poked the embers with that pointy pokey thing  (it's summer, I'm not supposed to think!)… Thoughts of the first time he met that pirate of a good man, sped through his wandering mind.

"You threatened Miss Swann."

"Only a little." Their swords meet in several mixes of attacks and defensive swipes, " You know what you're doing, I'll give you that. Excellent form, but how's your footwork? If I step here," he steps, "Very good. Now I step again. Ta." Sheathing his sword, Captain Jack makes his way for the door, however is thwarted in doing so as Will throws his sword, which stops up the latch. After seeing his only exit was currently barred, Captain Jack tried to remove the sword with no success.

"That is a wonderful trick except once again you are between me and my way out. And now you have no weapon." Captain Jack advanced on Will who pulled the heated sword from the hearth and continued to defend himself, however with each strike, sparks were sent flying.

Will pinned Captain Jack between his sword's blade and his rack of craftsmanship works, which was moving like a spinning wheel on its side. "Who makes all these?" Jack asked looking at the swords from the corner of his eye.

"I do! And I practice with them three hours a day!"

"You need to find yourself a girl, mate. Or perhaps the reason you practice three hours a day is that you already found one and are otherwise incapable of wooing said strumpet. You're not a eunuch, are you?" He lowered his gaze to the ground.

"I practice three hours a day, so that when I meet a pirate, I can kill it!" After more fighting which involved a lot of cat and mouse chasing from the ground to the rafters, and falling, and climbing, and no talk whatsoever except the occasional grunt or annoyed muse. After all of that, Captain Jack lost his sword but blinded Will by directing a helluva lotta sand into his face.

Captain Jack pulled his pistol from his belt and shoved it before Will's face, as the young man tried to protect his eyes.

"You cheated!"

"Pirate." Captain Jack answered mildly, but he heard the noises of men trying to break the door down and his tone changed. "Move away."

"No."

"Please, move."

"No! I cannot just step aside and let you escape."

"This shot is not meant for you." During that time however, Mr. Brown had woken up and knocked Captain Jack unconscious with his bottle of alcohol.

"This shot is not meant for you…" Will repeated almost as if in a trance. "What do you suppose he meant by that…?" He lightly tapped a finger on his arms, which were folded across his chest. A smile crossed his face.

"In fact, I wonder what he's up to. Bet he's got it better off than I do." Pausing, Will's eyes ran over his table. "Where's my hammer?"

Sitting, Captain Jack traced a finger in the sand. He looked up at the sound of water hitting something and he saw none other, than his previously sinking boat. His large hat was perched atop the starboard side of the boat, which was emptied of its possessions other than Will's hammer.

"So you decided to come back after all." Captain Jack said grittily as he pushed himself to his feet and walked towards the boat as it banked itself. Snatching his hat, he promptly placed it on his head with a firm nod and stared down at Will's hammer.

"Oy! I thought I'd lost you long ago." He picked the hammer up hastily and hugged it lightly to his chest. Only then was it noticeable that two eyes and a mouth had been crudely drawn onto the flat side. "Don't you ever go of gallivanting away like that, Will Jr.!"

The hammer though being strangled by Captain Jack, it said/did nothing. It was, after all a hammer. With a face drawn on it. That Will severely needed. But Captain Jack refused to give up.

Shrugging, Captain Jack let go of the hammer, which fell into the sand, head first. "Welcome to the Caribbean, luv."

"This ain't the Caribbean."

"Will Jr.?" Captain Jack asked, as he eyed the hammer. "You never told me you could talk!" He sounded hurt. Terribly hurt.

There was a pause. "Over here you idiot."

Turning over his shoulder, Captain Jack saw his mortal enemy…THE APPLE-EATING-OBSESSIVE-PREVIOUS-CAPTAIN-OF-THE-BLACK-PEARL-PIRATE-DUDE.

"BARBOSSA YOU LYING BASTARD!" This time, Captain Jack sounded offended. "OF COURSE THIS IS THE CARIBBEAN! HOW DARE YOU STATE OTHERWISE!"

Barbossa shook his head. "T'aint. This 'ere be the Gulf of Mexico."

"WHAT THE HELL?! WHERE IN THE NAME OF PARLEY IS THE GULF OF MEXICO?!"

Will Jr. was unaffected. As usual.