A/N: Oh, here we go. I'm a little nervous, to be honest. I've read a great many Beckett fan-fictions around here to get a feel of what people are looking for, and I have to say that many of them have done a very excellent job (Amymimi, SensiblyScrewy, auri mynonys, letthedreamdescend, and illogical squeaks). I've been horrible inspired by them, and I've no other choice but to satiate my desire by writing something of my own. My only hope is to amuse. If you would like to instill me with feelings of great gratitude, then please review. Or, at the very least, carry your way on through this entire piece of work. I promise it won't hurt. Much. (;

Now, in this story, we're to pretend that William Turner was not made captain of the Flying Dutchman, that, all logics aside, the Dutchman sank bank into the sea without claiming another life. Jack Sparrow and Elizabeth Turner (hah!) managed to escape from the Dutchman in time as it sank, only to realize that the EITC and its fleet were still in wait.

I'm not very good at summarizing things and making them seem exciting, are I? x_x

Disclaimer: I don't own Pirates of the Caribbean. Neither do I own the lovely characters presented herein. Except maybe any OFCs.

Warnings: None.

Chapter One

Criminal.

Elizabeth woke up uncomfortable and stiff. Her whole body ached and groaned as she sat up, her mind dulled with a low buzz in her head. For a moment, she merely stared around dumbly. Then realization hit her as she realized just where, exactly, she was.

She was in the HMS Endeavour's brig, no less. A sinking feeling filled her chest. They'd lost, she realized. And it was pathetic. So much effort spent taking down the Flying Dutchman—only to turn and see the huge East India Trading Company armada lying in wait. They'd been forced to run—all the Pirate Lords, all the ships. Turned back and started to run. But with the Black Pearl so close in proximity to the EITC fleet, of course it was the first to be captured.

A boiling rage filled her. She remembered the smug look of Cutler Beckett as the EITC claimed the Pearl. "The fastest ship on the seas, hm?" he'd said, "Apparently, it's not quite fast enough." She could just see the delight in his eyes as she had been led down below, chained and shackled like a mangy pirate.

Oh—wait. She was a mangy pirate, she realized. No, no, not a mangy pirate. God damn it, she was the Pirate King! And her first accomplishment? Getting a huge load of pirate ships destroyed, and getting the crew of the Pearl captured—or killed.

They were going to execute her, she realized. A bone-chilling sensation coursed through her. Never before had Elizabeth really thought much of dying, herself. Someone had always come to save her, be it Jack or Will.

Will. The name pierced her heart and forced her to curl up into a ball. Already, she felt her eyes watering, but she begged herself not to cry. No. She wouldn't let Beckett see her ruined like this.

She looked about, and got herself to her feet, dusting off the dirt and grime on her outfit; although, at this point, hygiene no longer mattered. Grasping the bars of her cell, she looked left and right, observing the hallway. The brig was large, particularly compared to the Pearl's. Then again, an EITC ship had to be well-equipped for capturing pirates. And innocents, Elizabeth thought to herself scathingly.

Few soldiers were stationed in the hallway, but there would be no escaping. Escaping from the brig meant getting up on deck, where there were more than likely more soldiers than down below. She pursed her lips and looked to her left, at the next cell.

Unfortunately, a wooden wall met her gaze. She narrowed her eyes. So there was no secretive interaction between the prisoners. Oh well, then. Surely there was no harm in speaking out loud to see if anyone else was there.

"Hello?" she said, her voice quavering nervously a slight. She felt stupid, suddenly, and she didn't like it.

There was a long pause before any reply answered her, and it was Mr. Gibbs. "Aye, Ms. Swa—Turner, ye be alright. I'd been gettin' worried."

Just as her mouth opened to answer, she heard footsteps approaching. Her eyes widened as she saw the black boots descend down the stairs. A rather short figure, though with an ego and ambition that far outsized it. Black clothes (was he making fun of the pirates' deaths, she wondered?), a white wig, and a tricorn hat. And that same slight half-smirk that made Elizabeth's gut wrench with rage.

"Cutler Beckett," she hissed with a venomous, seething tone. Her anger could not be any more plain.

Beckett's brows lifted just a slight. Elizabeth held back a nasty curse. She hated how the man's expressions were always so—same. No matter how heavily you attacked him, you could not instill change in his face. Always that same expression, and she hated it.

"I believe I told you it was Lord Beckett," he said calmly, but with a slight sneer in his voice.

Elizabeth stalked up to the bars of the brig cage and clenched hands in fists around them, pressing her face as far out as she could. Her eyes narrowed. "I'm still going to follow through on my promise of your death."

The corners of his lip lifted the slightest, indicating some sort of falsified smile. "Will you?" he said haughtily, an amused look filling his eyes.

"Yes, I will. And I'll see to it that you fall at my own hands," Elizabeth hissed. "I will avenge my father's death, you cold, heartless bastard."

Beckett looked amused yet again. "You humor me, Ms. Swann," he said. "But I'm afraid you've absolutely no chance at all in following through with your words. As I'm sure you can clearly surmise, the only one here with any sort of weaponry or capability to kill would be me. And the chances of me falling at my own hands—well, to say in the least, they're quite bleak."

For a moment, she merely stared, and just as she was about to rage again, she calmed herself. She would not feed Beckett his amusement by going off again. Her anger was only feeding him, she realized.

Seeing that Elizabeth had ceased speaking, Beckett merely turned a slight away from her and began speaking. "I don't recall ever telling you why I even came down here."

She narrowed her eyes, and then said in a low, barely controlled voice, "Well, then. Why are you down here, Lord Beckett?"

Beckett smiled, but Elizabeth could not see the dastardly expression. "I would like to remind you of the charges you were faced with on the day of your wedding. 'Conspiring to set free'—"

"—'A man convicted of crimes against the Crown, and condemned to death'." Elizabeth said, narrowing her eyes. She wished she could see his face, but he was still turned away. Why was he reminding her of this, she wondered? She already knew she was going to die. She was a pirate now.

"...For which the punishment, regrettably, is also death," completed Beckett almost triumphantly as he turned and face her, putting one hand on his side. There was something pompous about him at this moment, with that smirk playing his face and his whole being exuding power.

"Why are you reminding me this? I would suppose that those charges have been long extended, considering my position as the Pirate King and the deeds which I have committed against the Crown, namely piracy, in and of itself," Elizabeth said breathlessly, confused and indignant.

Another smirk. God, Elizabeth would have done anything to strangle the little lord. But these bars were like a world between them—a huge stretch of power and dominance and, God damn it, intellect, as much as she hated to admit it.

"I merely wished to show you just how much you've grown, Ms. Swann. It was not long ago that you were little more than a mere girl, upset over the lost dream of a wedding." Beckett began adjusting the button of one of his sleeve cuffs, as if he found it far more interesting than Elizabeth's life. "You've changed quite a lot, if I don't say so myself."

"First of all," Elizabeth seethed, "it's Ms. Turner." Beckett almost looked surprised, but he covered up whatever astonishment he might have had with disinterest. "And secondly..."

Beckett swiftly cut her off, seemingly having gained whatever composure he'd lost at Elizabeth's earlier remark. "I find it quite ironic that you so strongly defend your position as Ms. Turner. You are, after all, now a widow, though a young one still."

Though none of the words were particularly offending, each one cut into Elizabeth's heart like a knife. (Perhaps the name Cutler was quite appropriate.) Although she tried to hide it, the hurt was impossible to conceal, and she could see Beckett relishing in her reaction. He paused for a bit before continuing again, but Elizabeth wanted to beg him to stop. She felt her eyes sting again as the tears began to form, but she willed them away. No, she would not give Cutler Beckett the delight of seeing her sob.

"Regardless of your widowhood, Ms. Turner, justice must be dispensed. We will return to Port Royal immediately, and I will see to it that you and your pirate friends hang from the gallows," he said rather calmly.

Elizabeth swallowed heavily as she stared at the floor in front of her, then back at Beckett. She found his stare to be piercing, though, and quickly looked away. Gathering her voice and wits, she said, "Where is Jack?"

Beckett went back to adjusting his frock coat button again. "Jack Sparrow is not present," he responded enigmatically.

"I could tell," Elizabeth snapped, upset at his answer. "Where exactly is he? I want to see him!"

Lord Beckett looked up and gazed at Elizabeth, and then a smile tugged at his lips. Suddenly, she felt as though she had said too much—had she accidentally hinted at an affair between her and...? No! It was impossible. Besides, she had just said she was keen on defending her relationship with Will. There was no way that Beckett would think she had any kind of relationship with Jack. (Then again, Beckett seemed to know Jack... and that he was a shameless pervert.)

"Really," he said dryly. "I'm afraid that can't be done. You will be confined within this brig until we make home at Port Royal. Then, you will be moved into a far more uncomfortable prison cell, where you will spend the rest of your time contemplating your sins against justice, and hope that God has mercy upon you."

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. "You don't understand the meaning of the word 'justice.' You've twisted it far beyond recognition," she snarled.

Beckett smiled just a slight, with a slight hmph escaping his lips. "Is that what you think?" he said lightly, and then quickly waved off whatever answer she was preparing to give. "Your opinions are irrelevant. You are a heathen pirate, an enemy to society, peace, safety, and good-will. As an enemy of the people, your slanderous and twisted beliefs have no value in face of your crimes."

"I am free," said Elizabeth haughtily, lifting up her chin to feel more superior. "That's what I am."

Beckett turned away from her again and stared at the wall. "Freedom," he snorted under his breath. He remembered the days when he used to crave freedom. Now he knew; such petty desires had to be repressed. That was what he'd learned. The taste of freedom was nothing compared to the taste of power and control, Beckett thought. The feeling of knowing that others bowed to your very beck and call—that was far more intoxicating than any foolish freedom. And anyway, with freedom came danger, and with danger came fear, and fear was strong enough to fell any man. Even Cutler Beckett.

But those days were long over. His head turned just the slightest so that Elizabeth could see part of his face. He was no longer smiling, but even that did not relieve her. "You are a criminal. A fugitive of justice," he said softly, "and you will be hanged."

And with that delightful remark, Lord Cutler Beckett left.

A/N: Phew! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. (I know I didn't.) Hah! Anyway, yeah. Reviews are implored! Reviews are very much welcome! Please do drop one, even if it's just a few words. I also love criticism, as long as it isn't blatant flaming. I'm very worried about my characterization—are they all in character? That's my biggest concern, to be honest. Beckett has so few scenes in the movies, and what you do see of him is all the same face (except for the few moments where Jack manages to throw off his cool composure), so it's really hard to base the lines off of him. I'm not sure about Elizabeth, either. Really, characterization is so tricky in Pirates. What really helps, to me, is if you just imagine that character saying the line. Unless the dialogue is something so absurd that the character would never say it.

So, yeah. Elizabeth/Beckett is my crack. Seriously, I... don't even know why I like it I suppose I think they are a good match. Both intellectuals, both cunning, except that one is far colder and the other is burning with fiery passion and love. (Beckett is so definitely the fiery one.)

Anyway. I hope Barbossa and Jack can have a chance to appear soon. Most people say Jack is quite hard to get across, but Jack actually isn't that hard at all. Seriously—just imagine him reading the line, and suddenly it's just golden. It's perfect! Your inner Johnny Depp will characterize it for you. (At least, that's what my inner Johnny Depp does. Wait a second, why do I even have an inner Johnny Depp? I want an inner Tom Hollander to help me with my Beckett stuff!) Jack actually has very versatile dialogue. He can use words from "jar of dirt" to "cuttlefish"! Now Barbossa, I find him far more difficult. There's something about his manner of speaking that I find hard to capture.

But I've rambled long enough. I hope you enjoyed this, honestly. Please review!

Expect the next chapter ... well, if I get a lot of reviews, it'll be soon. If I don't, I probably will be too demotivated to continue. XD