(A/N: The Rum-Runner's Island scene. Longest work I have ever written, and this is only a chapter! But then, I included two of the deleted scenes of the movie, which I thought shouldn't have been deleted, since they were so good. But I think the reason they were deleted is that they showed too much Sparrabeth, while Disney wants the movies to be more Willabeth...Still, you can get the deleted scenes on YouTube! Enjoy!)

At the Island
What happened with Jack and Elizabeth when they were marooned on Rum-Runner's Island, in Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl

"That's the second time I've ever watched that man sail away with my ship," Jack said, staring back across the blue waters to the Pearl, his eyes crinkled against the sun. He was beginning to feel the oddest sense of déjà vu, but it was definitely not the good kind.

Elizabeth looked at Jack, standing in the surf, and frostily stalked away. She didn't feel like dealing with him at the moment. Turning back to look at the pirate after a few minutes, she saw he'd just plopped himself down on the sand, a mere few feet away from the water's edge.

Indignantly, Elizabeth tossed her head back and resumed walking rapidly around the island. While some people could afford to just sit their selves down on sand and whistle the while away, she wasn't yet ready to give up. There had to be some way off this island – even if it was at the other end.

She walked under the scorching sun for an hour or so, refusing to look around at the scenery, or give any sign of enjoying the beautiful weather. Just as she was ready to sit down and take a break, she stopped short at the sight of a man, sitting by the edge of the water.

With a sudden leap of spirits, Elizabeth was about to run over to the stranger, ask for assistance, but then she saw it was just Jack. With a heavy heart, she trudged towards him with an even slower step, realizing she had already gone all around the island, with no escape in sight.

...

Jack, meanwhile, was perfectly content to wait out on the beach. He had the best view of any ship coming near, and why waste precious energy on fruitless activities? Toying with his pistol and the one bullet in it, he envisioned the bullet entering Barbossa's body and killing him off, and marveled at how such a tiny thing had the ability to take away a human life.

He spied the girl Elizabeth walk up in front of him, back already from her walk around the island, and gaze forlornly at the trail of footsteps she had made barely an hour past. Poor girl had obviously been looking for some way out, in the naive belief that some such way existed. He felt slightly sorry for her. Such a girl as she was probably unused to such harsh situations.

"It's really not all that big, is it?" he remarked in a slightly world-weary manner.

Elizabeth turned towards him coldly. "If you're going to shoot me, please do so without delay." He was a pirate, after all. He would kill her sometime, why not sooner than later? After all, it was better than dying of starvation - quicker.

Jack wondered distantly how she managed to make her tone so icy under the heat of the blazing Caribbean sun. "Is there a problem between us, Miss Swann?" he enquired formally, mirroring her chilly tone perfectly.

Leaning close threateningly, Elizabeth felt her indignation surface like an irritated cobra. Was the pirate really asking her what the problem was, after what he had been about to do?

"You were going to tell Barbossa about Will in exchange for a ship," Elizabeth informed him, practically hissing the last word in contempt. Her quiet tone was ominous enough to have quelled Jack, had he been less frustrated after losing the Pearl to Barbossa once again.

"Well, we could use a ship!" Jack reminded her, slightly annoyed by the way she was looking at him as though he was responsible for all the sins and evil in the world. Perhaps it was the disappointment in her eyes that compelled him to continue. "The fact is, I was going to not tell Barbossa about bloody Will in exchange for a ship, because as long as he didn't know about bloody Will, I had something to bargain with. Which, now no one has, thanks to bloody stupid Will."

This was perhaps the first time Jack ever told another person what he planned to do. He had always felt that trusting another with your secrets was just dooming them to failure. But this particular planned was already ruined, and Elizabeth's upset voice irked Jack like nothing ever had before.

After all, what was with her and the whelp? He was a good steady boy, Jack supposed, but he was nowhere near the angelic saint she made him out to be. Quite thick-headed at times, and he might be extremely honorable, but in the world of pirates, after a while, that would certainly get Will and his whole crew killed.

Elizabeth's stare went from accusatory to sheepish, all in a matter of seconds. It was quite funny, except for the fact that, after being marooned for the second time in his life, Jack was not in a very humorous mood.

"Oh," Elizabeth mumbled, dropping her gaze to the white-gold sand on the beach. She hadn't considered the fact that he might have had a good reason for his actions, and truthfully, much as it surprised her, his words sounded pretty sensible to her at the moment. Suddenly, Jack's mind seemed like a maze to her, or like one of those illusions that magicians conjured up. Jack's occasional immaturity was only a cover for the sharp intelligence that lay behind.

"Oh," Jack repeated mockingly, managing to insert a whole world of sarcasm and irony into that one tiny syllable.

Elizabeth looked at him again. Even if he wasn't totally callous towards other people, she didn't like the way Jack spoke about Will in that tone filled with contempt. After all, it wasn't his fault that they were stuck on a deserted island forever.

"He still risked his life to save ours," Elizabeth tried valiantly to defend Will, although somehow her voice lacked its usual conviction.

"Ha!" Jack snorted derisively. He didn't say it, but they both heard the hidden sentence that was running through their heads. Didn't do us much good, did it?

I need some rum, Jack decided with a mental sigh, and started up the beach into the trees behind them. Elizabeth followed him rapidly, trying to reason out this debate.

"So we have to do something to rescue him!" Elizabeth exclaimed, annoyed and irritated by Jack's unwillingness to do anything useful. Even if Will was partly responsible for their fate, shouldn't they still try to escape, and help Will? If Jack had done so much in the past, if he could come up with so many brilliant plans, then surely he could get them off this island somehow. After all, hadn't Jack been abandoned here before?

Jack spun on his heel and faced Elizabeth. "Off you go, then!" he told her sarcastically, making shooing motions with his hand. "Let me know how that turns out for you."

"But you were marooned on this island before! So we can escape the same way you did then!" Elizabeth cried excitedly, and Jack mentally winced at the memory of his first visit to the island so many years ago.

"To what point and purpose, young missy?" Jack angrily questioned her, turning suddenly to face her. Her stubborn foolish conviction that they had to do something was making him feel unbelievably guilty about the fact that he did not know what to do – something that rarely, if ever, happened to Jack.

"The Black Pearl is gone." Jack informed her bluntly, not allowing any of the blank despair he felt to seep into his voice. "Unless you have a rudder and a whole lot of sails hidden in that bodice – ," he stopped and ran his eyes over her appearance, "– unlikely – young William will be dead long before you can reach him."

Jack felt a little guilty at so bluntly crushing all hope, but it was the truth, every word of it. And a girl like her badly needed to hear some plain, inescapable truths.

But Elizabeth wasn't beat so fast. She followed Jack, as he knocked on a tree to see whether it was the right one. "You're Captain Jack Sparrow," she informed him, as though he didn't know.

Jack began to count out the steps he had to take towards the underground rum cellar. Elizabeth followed him, hardly noticing what he was doing. "You vanished from under the eyes of seven agents from the East India Company. You sacked Nassau Port without even firing a shot!" She didn't notice the slight tinge of admiration that had seeped into her voice, or the slightly glazed look that crept into her eyes.

Guiltily, Jack went about jumping on the sand, trying to ignore the way she was reciting all the things he had done, as though that changed a bloody thing about their present situation. Any other time, and he might have cheerfully agreed with her list, even added some more of his less famous but still ingenious adventures. But right now, all Elizabeth's stupid monologue was doing was reminding him of how he was supposed to know what to do - but didn't.

Suddenly, she appeared inches from his face, and he took a quick step backwards. "Are you the pirate I read about, or not?" she asked him quietly, her voice low and forceful.

They stared at each other for a long time, Elizabeth's eyes challenging, Jack's defensive. And in the silence that followed, Elizabeth felt a little seed of frustration sprout in her brain. Perhaps Jack Sparrow was nothing other than a dirty, filthy, cheating, lying pirate who took credit for what others did.

"How did you escape last time?" Elizabeth questioned Jack, softly, but with steel in her tone.

Mentally sighing, Jack gave up. She wasn't going to let it rest, it was clear, and Jack really just wanted to get drunk and forget this horrible, horrible day. After all, what difference did it make? It wasn't like they had any chance of escaping this island at all.

And so, he divulged the biggest secret of his career. To a stubborn, headstrong, young lady who had no business being mixed up with pirates. "Last time, I was here a grand total of three days, all right?" he admitted, masking the shame in his voice with impatience.

As Elizabeth stared at him in confusion, he bent down, and with a little effort, pushed up the door to the secret cellar. "Last time," he continued, as he stepped into the cellar, "The rum-runners used this island as a cache. Came by, and I was able to barter a passage off. From the looks of things, they've long been out of business."

Jack waved a bottle of rum in the air as proof. "Probably have your bloody friend Norrington to thank for that!"

Elizabeth stared at the rum bottle in shock, as Jack emerged from the cellar once more. She was speechless at this unexpected betrayal. Somehow she had started to equate Jack Sparrow with the person who could pull off miracles. Someone to respect for his quick thinking. Someone she had been depending on. And it hurt to think that she had been wrong about him.

"So that's it, then." She found her voice at last. "That's the secret of the Grand Adventure of the Infamous Jack Sparrow," she turned on him again, layering ironic sarcasm heavily on her last words. Somehow, she felt as though she had been betrayed by her only hope. "You spent three days lying on a beach drinking rum." she stated, her voice tight with disappointment and disillusionment.

Jack stared at her in surprise. When he hadn't told her his secret, she had been yelling at him, and even after telling her, she was still yelling! Although this time, it was worse, because now he felt like he'd betrayed her somehow, even though he had technically done nothing, and betrayal tasted even worse than guilt.

But what was so unusual about a pirate lying, he would like to know. Weren't they supposed to be unreliable, scraggy thieves who were out to save only their own skin? Everybody knew that, even young well-bred ladies who fell into oceans. It was the way things were with the pirates of the Caribbean. And now that the girl's lot had been cast with said pirates, she had best learn as quick as she could to deal with lies coming at her from every which way.

He half-smiled at her, trying to ignore the livid expression on her face. "Welcome to the Caribbean, love!" And, pushing her aside, he strode off to the beach.

But as usual, she followed him step for step. "So," she asked, her voice slightly ragged in her effort to suppress tears of despair. "Is there any truth to the other stories?" Was all Elizabeth knew of pirates and piracy a lie? Were they all lying braggarts who were cowards at heart? She felt like all her childhood fantasies were coming apart at the seams.

Jack looked at her, and saw the disappointment in her eyes, and a numb feeling spread over him. She was so young. So naive. What did she know of his life, a sheltered governor's daughter with no true cares in the world? What did she know of truth and honor and decency in the world of pirates, to be asking him like that? "Truth," he repeated, his voice going quiet and rough with suppressed emotion.

He lifted his sleeve, to show her the pirate brand and burnt skin on his right forearm, and Elizabeth suddenly remembered how much pain it must have caused, to have a symbol burnt right into your body, categorizing you forever in one class of folks. She, Elizabeth, could do anything, fit in anywhere, with no trouble save a change of clothes, but Jack would always be known by his pirate brand.

He lifted his other sleeve as well, and Elizabeth involuntarily took a step back at the sight of those raised, crisscrossing lines on his skin. His hand slid upward to his shirt collar, and he pulled it aside to show her two black marks on his skin, on his chest, where two bullets from a pistol must have hit him.

"No truth at all," he answered, quiet sarcasm in his voice. He would wager his last bottle of rum that she had never seen scars like that before in her life.

Elizabeth stared at Jack once more, feeling incredibly sorry for her words of a few minutes ago. She had no idea what he had and had not done before, and she still didn't, for that matter. She had no right to assume anything about what she had heard of him. Suddenly, it was Elizabeth feeling small and guilty.

Rum bottle in hand, Jack settled down on the beach, avoiding Elizabeth's eyes. "We can stay alive a month, maybe more," he informed her, his tone grim and practical. "Keep a weather eye out for passing ships, and our chances are fair." He took a satisfying gulp out of the rum bottle.

"And what about Will?" Elizabeth asked, all the insistence gone out of her voice. She suddenly felt old, tired, drawn out, but she had to find a way off this island, to save Will. "We have to do something."

As he looked at her for a moment, Jack felt an unexpected prick of respect, mixed with exasperation. She didn't seem to get it, that they couldn't do anything to help Will. She was being so stupidly stubborn, exactly like that whelp.

And yet, Jack felt quite impressed with her fortitude and resolution. Most young ladies he knew would have fainted and wasted away the moment they set eyes on pirates. But here she was, Miss Elizabeth Swann, still fighting for a chance to save her dearly beloved, even though there was nothing to be done. Well, nothing except one thing.

"You're absolutely right," he told her, and rolled the bottle of rum down to her feet. Uncorking a new bottle, he raised it in the air. "Here's luck to you, Will Turner." And he took a long sip.

Elizabeth picked up her bottle and stared at it for a moment. She knew it was a drink no decent man, let alone a decent woman, would touch, but she felt so tired, so worn out. Perhaps there was nothing to be done about Will.

She sat down beside Jack, and suddenly, a line from an old song floated through her mind. "Drink up, me hearties, yo ho!" she quietly murmured, and took a big gulp of the liquid.

Jack looked at her curiously. "What was that, Elizabeth?" he asked, as she choked down the rum, and made a face.

"It's Miss Swann," she told him, irritated and embarrassed by how obviously new she was to the world of hard drinks. Jack turned away silently then, as if he was sorry he had offended her, but in an air as though he was the one who had been offended as well.

Elizabeth decided to answer his question. She hadn't meant to sound so cranky and stuck-up. "Nothing," she quietly said, in the tone of one remembering days long ago and far away. "It's a song I learned as a child when I actually thought it would be exciting to meet a pirate."

At her words, Jack turned partially back towards her. Somehow, it didn't surprise him to hear Elizabeth would have enjoyed some pirate adventures of her own. Elizabeth had the right sort of mind for being a good pirate. "Let's hear it," he suggested.

"No," Elizabeth denied instantly, slightly embarrassed once again.

"Come on, we've got the time," Jack pressed. "Let's have it!" He was extremely surprised to know that she had once wanted to be a pirate, although when he thought about it, it wasn't that shocking.

"No!" Elizabeth refused again, a hint of exasperation in her voice. "I'd have to have a lot more to drink." she informed him. And she had no intention of getting inebriated on a deserted island with a pirate who preceded the names of her friends with the adjective 'bloody'.

He looked at her for a few seconds, then asked, "How much more?" And as she stared at him, he grinned meaningfully at her, held up his bottle of rum to his lips and took a big swig.

And somehow, he got her to keep drinking, although she never could remember how. But after a while, she didn't really mind. The drink made her feel all warm inside, and when dusk fell, they made a little campfire on the beach, and the flames from that made her feel warm outside.

And then, when she was more than drunk enough, Jack got her to teach him the song, and they ran around and around the campfire, singing the song and drinking. And it was fun. How could she have been feeling old and tired only a while ago? She was young, and happy, and having fun. She hadn't had fun in a long time.

"We're devils and black sheep, we're really bad eggs, drink up, me hearties, yo ho!" they sang, as they stumbled around the campfire. "Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me!" Jack merrily warbled, barely noticing when he stumbled and stubbed his toe.

"I love this song!" Jack declared, spinning Elizabeth around. "Really bad eggs!" he shouted happily, and then collapsed on the sand as his head spun dizzily. Elizabeth laughed as she dropped down next to him.

"When I get the Pearl back, I'm gonna teach it to the whole crew. And we're gonna sing it all the time!" he excitedly exclaimed, flinging his arms wide.

"And you will be positively the most fearsome pirate in the Spanish Main!" Elizabeth added, seeing a whole crew of pirates dancing around a fire in her imagination.

"Not just the Spanish Main, love!" Jack corrected her. "The entire ocean. The entire world!" Jack didn't believe in dreaming small, especially not when he was drunk.

"Wherever we want to go, we go!" Jack happily told Elizabeth, and those words echoed in her ears, only partly because of the rum. "That's what a ship is, you know." Jack quietly told her, as though he was just thinking out loud to himself. "Not just a keel and a hull and a deck and sails, that's what a ship needs. But what a ship is – what the Black Pearl really is, is freedom."

And Elizabeth wanted freedom. She liked sailing, after the initial seasickness. She wanted to go where she pleased, when she pleased. She wanted to forget about corsets, think of them as no more than a bad dream, wanted to breathe air, live life, have fun!

That's why she sometimes secretly longed to be a pirate – they were the only ones she knew who didn't have to submit to rules, who lived the way they liked, who lived totally for themselves and selfish abandonment.

But looking at Jack's expression, she realized that, no matter how much she wanted freedom – freedom she could never have – Jack wanted it more. That was why he risked everything he had to find his beloved Pearl. He could never submit to others – she could never see him as a blacksmith's apprentice, or a Commodore of the Navy. He was born for freedom, and right now, he was as free as a bird with a broken wing.

"Jack," she said as she snuggled up against his shoulder. "It must be really terrible for you, to be trapped here on this island."

"Oh, yes," he replied, as he felt the warmth of her body leaning on his. He was suddenly aware of how beautiful Elizabeth looked, with her salty curls dangling down her back, her cheeks flushed after running around the fire, and the soft curve of her body aligning with his. He curled his arm around her shoulders as he spoke. "But the company is infinitely better than last time, and the scenery – has improved."

Just then, Elizabeth became aware of the arm on her shoulder, and even when she was intoxicated, she hazily remembered the rules of propriety that her father was always reminding her about. "Mr. Sparrow!" she exclaimed as she tipsily sat up straight. "I'm not sure that I've had enough rum to allow that kind of talk."

Her breath blowing in his face certainly suggested otherwise – by Jack's muddled estimations, she had had about four bottles of rum. He was quite impressed – the girl could hold her liquor very well.

"I know exactly what you mean, love," Jack agreed, and curled up his moustache tips in what he considered a very suave and debonair manner. He inched his hand around her hair – still soft, although slightly dirty after a week or two at sea.

"To freedom!" Elizabeth held out her rum bottle suddenly. His words, about freedom, about ships, were still ringing in her ears. Rum was a powerful substance, to make such simple words sound so profound, so noble.

Jack looked at her hand, at the bottle held aloft. "To the Black Pearl," he amended, and clinked their bottles together.

Elizabeth took a sip from only her bottle, but something - probably her over-full stomach, unused to hard drinks - told her to stop, as she saw Jack guzzle the remaining liquid from his flask. He collapsed in a heap, and she rolled her eyes. She was drunk, but even she had enough sense not to drink that much.

Suddenly, Elizabeth felt wide awake. Those words of his – freedom, and a ship – they kept repeating themselves in her brain. Well, freedom couldn't be bought or taken, could it? It had to be earned. And Elizabeth knew that if they were ever to be free, they had to get off that island.

It wasn't enough to wait and drink and hope. She would go crazy from it, and she suspected that Jack too would not last very long. They had to work out a way to get away.

But, try as she might, Elizabeth couldn't figure out how. It seemed like a puzzle with no answer. In a sudden fury at everything – the island, Jack, her brain – she threw her rum bottle – nearly empty now – at the trees behind them.

Of course, being drunk, her aim wasn't as good as it might have been. The bottle landed smack dab in the middle of the fire, and smashed into pieces. The rum met the flames, and they instantly roared up twice as high. Staring at the suddenly-revived fire, an idea occurred to Elizabeth – one that she knew instantly why Jack had never considered.

Rum was supposed to fog a man's brain, if taken too much. Elizabeth could only suppose it was the opposite for women, as she set out for the secret cellar. She could barely see, in the dark of the night, but by feeling her way around – and then by simply falling into the cellar, she found it.

And she was amazed at how many bottles of rum were left. Hundreds upon hundreds rested on the shelves in all shapes and sizes of bottles. She carried them out to the fire, trying to juggle five at once.

All the foggy drowsiness was gone from her brain. Elizabeth was a woman with a mission now, and she carried that mission out faithfully, so that when the sun came up, she could barely see it, so covered by smoke the island was.

Jack was sleeping, dreaming peacefully of shooting Barbossa to death and claiming the Pearl as his own once again. All of a sudden, he smelled smoke. Opening his eyes instantly, he saw a cloud of smoke hanging above him. Scrambling up to his feet, he spotted Elizabeth – throwing in another bottle of rum, and dodging the fire when it suddenly flared up.

"No! Not good!" Jack yelled, waving his arms about like a signal and running towards Elizabeth. "Stop! Not good!" He surveyed the wreckage in horror.

"What are you doing?', he asked Elizabeth. "You burned all the food, the shade – the rum!"

Elizabeth scanned the horizon for ships. "Yes, the rum is gone!" she informed Jack with a businesslike air.

"Why is the rum gone?" Jack yelled at the back of Elizabeth's head.

Swift as a cobra, Elizabeth turned on Jack. "One: because it is a vile drink that turns even the most respectable men into complete scoundrels. Two: that signal is a thousand feet high." She hid the pride in her voice well. "The entire royal Navy is out looking for me. Do you really think there is even the slightest chance they won't see it?"

Jack was past listening to reason. His head hurt, and his eyes stung from the smoke. He wanted rum. "But why is the rum gone?" he protested again.

Disdainfully, Elizabeth turned away and sat down on the sand. Was that all he could thing about? The rum? "Just wait, Captain Sparrow. You give it one hour, maybe two, keep a weather eye open and you will see white sails on that horizon."

She was staking everything on that chance that they would see her signal. If they didn't, Jack and Elizabeth would both soon be dead. And they wouldn't even have the luxury of dying drunk.

Furious, Jack brought out the pistol and pointed it at her head, but then thought better of it. No, she deserved to starve to death once she figured out that rum was meant as food, not as bonfire-fuel. He hurriedly stuffed his pistol back into his pocket, and walked off.

"'Musta been terrible for you to be trapped here, Jack, musta been terrible for you' – well, it bloody is now!" he yelled back in the general direction of the girl.

And then he saw it. The ship. What's-it-called Interceptor. Stupid name, in Jack's opinion.

"There'll be no living with her after this," Jack muttered to himself.

To Elizabeth's credit, she merely looked triumphant, and did not, with either word or deed, keep reminding Jack that she was right. Not that he needed reminding. Now that his head had stopped pounding as hard, he could admit to himself – slightly – that it was a good plan, even though he would never have done such a thing. Although he would never ever tell her so.

But she knew it without telling, that it was a good plan, so it didn't matter much. It worked well, for her, certainly. Her father was on board that ship, as well as the good old Commodore who Jack had had the fortune to meet in Port Royal.

After maybe two minutes of greeting and explanation, (very much needed by her father as to what she was doing on a deserted island in her underdress with Jack Sparrow, of all people) Elizabeth started on her old project.

"But we've got to save Will!"

Here we go again, Jack thought, rolling his eyes. Although this time, rescuing the whelp was going to help him in the long run, he was getting just the teensiest bit tired of hearing about Will Turner.

"No!" her father refused. "You're safe now. We will return to Port Royal immediately, not go gallivanting after pirates!"

"Then we condemn him to death!" Elizabeth protested, shocked at her father's cold-heartedness. Jack winced a little as well. When she put it that way…

Governor Swann hesitated. "The boy's fate is regrettable, but then, so was his decision to engage in piracy."

"To rescue me, to prevent anything from happening to me!" Elizabeth's voice sounded like she was close to tears. Why was nobody supporting her? Her whole plan to get rescued off the island was blowing up back in her face. Why wouldn't the Commodore, at least, take her side?

Jack glanced at her quickly, surprised by how pitiful her voice sounded. Gone was the strong, independent woman who had shouted down a pirate scarcely an hour ago. Now, when he looked at Elizabeth, he saw a girl who had been fighting all odds to get what she wanted, to do what she knew was right, but was losing the strength to last much longer. He noticed how tired her eyes looked, how red and puffy after all the smoke, and he remembered how much your head could hammer the morning after drinking four bottles of rum in a row. A twinge of guilt nudged at his heart - the second time in two days.

"If I may be so bold as to inject my professional opinion," Jack spoke for the first time. "The Pearl was listing near to starboard after the battle, it's very unlikely she'd be able to make good time." He looked directly at Commodore, trying to tempt him with the thought. "Think about it. The Black Pearl, the last real pirate threat in the Caribbean, mate. How can you pass that up?"

Elizabeth knew that Jack was lying – or at least, concealing the truth. Norrington would not end up with the Pearl, or even any shred of glory, in the final run. But still, Elizabeth desperately hoped the Commodore would snap up the bait.

But he resisted the temptation as only Commodore Norrington ever could. "By remembering that I serve others, Mr. Sparrow, not only myself."

Elizabeth felt a flash of disappointment at his words. But then, she really hadn't been expecting otherwise. The Commodore was not in that class of men who were eternally seeking self-glorification.

"Commodore, I beg you, please do this!" Elizabeth hastened to follow the Commodore as he walked away, and Jack wondered interestedly whether that sort of dogged pursuit was one of the tactics with which she made others bend to her will. He should try it sometime.

"For me! As a wedding gift!" The words were out of Elizabeth's mouth before she could really think about them, but she didn't regret them. If it was the way to save Will's life, she would do it.

The whole ship froze, Jack included. Somehow, this prospect did not please him as much as it should have. He hated seeing that free-thinking girl strap herself down for a life with a boring old figurehead just to save the worthless life of the man she was infatuated with.

"Elizabeth!" her shocked father asked. "Are you accepting the Commodore's proposal?"

She hesitated only a slight second, but then answered, "I am."

And Jack, standing there astonished, was filled with admiration for this woman, mixed in with a little envy for her talent. She had had no intention of marrying the Commodore, but to save the one man she loved, she had done it. She was a genius. She had ruthlessly played on the Commodore's affections, perhaps the only thing he cared about more than his job, to get what she wanted. There was no way that lovesick Norrington could deny her now. If only she had been a pirate…

That was when he realized what this meant. If he played his cards right, it meant he was getting back his Pearl. Ecstatic, he exclaimed, "A wedding? I love weddings! Drinks all around!"

Everybody stared at him, and Jack instantly sobered up, reminded of his position as a pirate prisoner. "I know," he mumbled. "Clap him in irons, right?" and he held his hands out before him. Oh, Elizabeth's plan had worked out great – except for one small detail. Himself.

Commodore Norrington stalked forward. "Mr. Sparrow," he disdainfully spoke. "You will accompany these fine men to the helm and provide us with a bearing to Isla de Muerta. You will then spend the rest of the voyage contemplating all possible meanings of the phrase, 'silent as the grave'. Do I make myself clear?"

"Inescapably," Jack replied, the smile somewhat dimmed. But as he was pushed forward, he couldn't help but give Elizabeth a small nod of approval, and she couldn't help but give him a small smile in return.

(A/N: Okay, so the nod-and-smile part wasn't shown in the movie or the deleted scenes, but in my mind, it happened anyway. I didn't stop the scene at just the island, because it seemed too abrupt. This closing was much more smooth. Plus, I like to play around with what Jack Sparrow was thinking when she says that she'll marry the Commodore, even though they both know that she loves Will. Anyway, leave a review if you read it!)