Disclaimer: Neither of us own Pirates of the Caribbean, unfortunately.

Author's Note: Sanari and I just thought we'd have a little fun with this. It was and idea that started off just as a joke, and ended up turning into a seriously good idea. Thanks to all those that read and review ! You'll get cookies !

Chapter Two

Jacklyn shivered scared, alright, so Bowbow was back. Its not like he was going to hurt her, she hoped. Perhaps this was the end, where it finally happened - stress from school had finally caused her to snap. Oh well, might as well play along, and besides, the thought of clean dry clothes was just too much to pass up . Sighing she walked up the stairs and into her bedroom. The walls where dark mahogany, and it was decorated like the Captain's Quarters of a ship. Since the start of her teenage years till the present, she had been obsessed with Pirates, and living in Port Royale, made it all the more easy to get away with.

Jacklyn looked over at her bed, there where dry clothes already laid out for her. She smiled, thinking her mother must of done that before her and her father left. She turned her back to the bed and faced the mirror. She unbuttoned her wet capris and pushed them down to the floor. She peeled her wet shirt up and over her head and dropped it on the floor in a wet pile with her pants. Reaching back to unhook her soaked bra, she looked up at the mirror for a second.

On the mirror, written in red lipstick was, "Hello"

"AH! PERVERT!"

Jacklyn screamed; she picked up her pillow at threw it at the mirror.

The mirror stopped in mid air with a thud and an, "OW!"

The mirror straightened itself out and was put back onto the wall as it had been before the pillow collided with it. Jacklyn shook her head, thinking she was losing her mind.

"NOW I'm hearing things…"

She picked up the dry shirt and pants and pulled them on, not wanting to remove the bed undergarments after what had just happened. Combing out her hair, she erased the word "Hello" from the mirror.

Since there was nothing better to do with this rain like this, as the cable and internet were out. Jacklyn decided she might as well go down into the basement, maybe she could find an old book to read, or at least she could kill a few hours with digging through her ancestors' things.

As she walked down the stairs to the basement. There was a full length mirror on the wall for every step of the stairs. Out of the corner of her eye she could see someone following her. She turned around; no one. She sighed turning back around and continuing down the stairs. She saw a large trunk in the corner of the basement; she walked over to it and opened it. Dust falling off.

She gasped, inside was a beautiful early 18th century wedding dress. She picked it up. Looking at it she sighed, "If only I was skinny and had a flatter chest…" she placed the dress back into the trunk. Or she could just pull the corset tighter. Inside the trunk with the wedding dress was also a corset that would easily pull her waist and chest in enough that she would fit into the beautiful gold and cream colored dress.

Jacklyn sighed softly as she gently pushed the clothing out of the way. There was a book, a leather bound journal, underneath the dress and corset. It was bound with dark brown leather, with the initials W.E.J.T. on the cover of it in gold leaf. The leather was worn, as if someone has very much loved this journal in its time. She carefully opened it up and flipped through the pages. The years struck her, and amazed her. The reached from 1712 to 1723. There were trivial things written in the journal, but entry for May 27th 1723, caught her fancy the most, it read :

May 27th, year 1723 of our Lord

I am to be married on July the 26th of this year. Elizabeth Swann has accepted my proposal and has made me the luckiest man alive. I shall do my best to suit her fantasy of an ideal husband, because I know she will be my ideal wife. I love her, and hope to make her as happy as she has made me on this day. Nothing now can stand in our way. July the 26th cannot come soon enough.

W.E.J.T

She flipped through more pages; she found from sketches of a woman. It was obvious that they person who drew them was not that good. The hair looked like straw, one eyes was lazy, and the lips were to big for the face. Either this was a caricature or, like stated before, the person couldn't draw.

She closed the book and placed it back with the dress; closing the trunk. She looked to her left and saw a chair covered with a white sheet. There was an indenture on the cushion as if someone was sitting there. She tugged at the cover; but, it wouldn't come loose. With a powerful tug the cover came loose; there was a heavy thud on the floor next to her.

There was a soft grumbling, nearly inaudible, but it was there,

"Ow…Miss. Norrington, what did I ever do to you ?"

There was the soft sound of leather boot heels clicking as if someone were standing up. The sheet, that remained in Jacklyn's hands were suddenly pulled with force away from her, causing her to stumble. She stumbled back and fell to sit on top of the trunk. The sheet was again unfurled and set back over the chair as it had been.

The top of the trunk gave way and caved it. The trunk had been old; very old. It had been Will's, the only thing to survive the fire.

She tried to stand up but she was stuck. She grunted; trying to pull herself out of the trunk.

Someone grabbed her hand and leaned back, their other hand holding onto her forearm. They pulled her up out of the trunk and brushed her off. Their hands were warm. The boot heel's clicking moved to the trunk and stopped, as if the person was inspecting the damage. There followed a nearly silent sigh, though it sounded like a buzzing bug.

After the fire, and the death of William Turner, Elizabeth Swann had salvaged his only surviving possession; the wooden trunk. Inside she had found his journal, and a few strange blobs of silver, all linked together on a long chain. It was all the mistakes that he had made while trying to perfect making a ring. They were beautiful in a strange way. Elizabeth had gingerly removed the chain, and removed two of the mistakes, putting them on another chain, which she wore close to her heart, the rest, stayed on the original chain, which she wore as a decorative belt. Both chains she wore for the rest of her life. She would spend many long hours crying and reading and re-reading her late lover's journal. One day, she finally put away the wedding dress that she was to wear to their wedding, that's the day she locked every reminder of William Turner, other than the chains of mistakes. She took the trunk, the dress and the journal with her, however when she married Norrington and lived with him…and their children took it. It had stayed in the family, yet no one had known what it was, up until now.

On the top of the dark wooded trunk, was something Jacklyn had not noticed before, it was the name of the owner…

WILLIAM EDWARD JONATHON TURNER

Jacklyn looked at the name; repeating it over and over in her head as she walked back up the stairs to the living room of her house.

Jacklyn was one of those people who speaks out loud random phrases she reads; this, was one of those times.

"William Edward Jonathon Turner…"

She had just passed a mirror and swore she saw someone walking with her. She walked back to the door to the basement and back to the mirror. Peaking in she screamed.

Bowbow was in the mirror

"AHHHHHHHHHH!"

"AHHHHHHHHHH!"

Jacklyn sunk beneath the mirror. She swore she saw Bowbow. But that couldn't be. Her eyes widened; she heard him scream! She obviously startled him.

"Do not do that again! You scared the hell out of me!" she heard.

She froze. Slowly, she stood up; peeking into the mirror. Her reflection did not stare back at her. It was the face of the man she knew as Bowbow.

"Hello" Bowbow said

"AHHHHHHHHHH!" she screamed; backing up.

"AHHHHHHHHHH! … Stop it!"