Disclaimer: I don't have permission to be doing this.

Author's Note: Thank you, one and all, for the prompt reviews. Since you're all such diamonds, I've decided to put this up tonight. Don't expect swift updates like this in the future. As a reminder, I'm going on vacation this coming week. It'll probably be once a week afterwards. Hopefully. Depends on what my work schedule is like… Since I'm a fan of replying to all reviewers…I'm doing it in the author's note. So there.
Rebelgurl: Thank you. I had to watch it five times to get it as accurate as it is. And it's good to hear it's identical to the movie. 'Twas what I was going for.
Don Blake: I agree. There are a lot of those out there. While I do plan to have some romance in this…it won't be a Mary Sue, I promise.
Daisy: Always my first reviewer…wonder why that is… Just kidding. Hope this helps the cliffhanger feeling go away… As the first, you get a loverly bunch of coconuts.

Chapter One: The Arrival

The overpowering stench was gone along with the overwhelmingly painful pressure all over his body. He still literally smelled awful, sitting on an incredibly comfortable burgundy chair that seemed to belong inside a governor's house and had probably never had a man with a reputation such as Captain Jack Sparrow sitting in it, but he didn't actually smell that horrid stench of a thousand rotting corpses. It was clear that the captain had just become a bit of a snack for Jones's leviathan. His clothes, hair, and braided beard were drenched in some unidentifiable substance that had no doubt been inside either the mouth or stomach of the Kraken. The look on his face quickly melted from disgust mixed with resignation and terror to surprise as he sniffed the almost perfumed air. "I'm supposed to be dead," he remarked to himself as he slowly opened his liquid brown eyes to see what was going on.

"Are we not?" a voice asked to Jack's left, a rather glazed look to his blue eyes. The man was very obviously dead, what with all the blood glistening on his skin and chunks of flesh missing. It almost looked as though he'd been in a fight with a giant octopus and one of the suckers had its way with his skin. The voice was somewhat familiar through the gurgle of either mucus or blood in the man's mouth. The lips formed a slight smile at the captain's very obvious stares.

"Oh," Jack said simply, fighting with himself to not pull a face at the sight of the man. "Crimp?" he asked, suddenly, when he recognized the unmistakable stench of the Kraken clinging to his clothes. This animated corpse was a member of his crew. Well, former member of his crew, as he was, in fact, dead…

"Aye, 'tis me," Crimp replied, smiling as far as his mouth would allow him. It looked as though the Kraken's suckers had nearly pulled the man's face off but got distracted by someone else to kill before finishing properly. Surprisingly, the man seemed to be completely free of pain. He didn't even notice that the flesh on the left side of his face was sagging.

Jack blinked a few times, trying desperately not to stare at the man. Crimp had been a fine crewman. As loyal in life as he apparently was in death. "What happened?"

"Near as I can figure, we're dead," Crimp replied easily, leaning back in his own comfortable seat and closing his eyes. "A few moments ago, a woman came in an' said we jus' 'ad t' wait."

"Oh." This was one of the strangest rooms the captain had ever had the displeasure of being in. The walls were so white and clean that they seemed to glow, making one nauseated if stared at for too long. The floor was a shockingly clean white marble. Jack watched in absolute amazement as some of the spittle on his boot dripped onto the floor and just seemed to disappear. It would explain why there wasn't blood all over the floor. He tilted his head slightly and then looked at Crimp again. "Where are we?" he asked, afraid to hear the answer.

"Can't rightly say," a man sitting next to Crimp replied. "Preacher din' ne'er mention this in 'is sermons." He was staring at his hands, drenched in sweat with a wound to the neck. His voice was numb, indicating he'd long since stopped questioning anything.

Jack sighed slightly and sat back in his seat. A million questions were swirling about in his mind. He was supposed to be dead­–wasn't that the ultimate end to everything? What had happened to the Black Pearl? Near as he could remember, he had not heard the wood groan as the Kraken snapped it in two. It was very possible that the Pearl was still in one piece, somewhere. How long had he been in limbo? Would he ever be able to scrub this smelly gunk off? How long would he be forced to sit in this clean room full of dead souls?

He was pulled from his mulling thoughts when the seat next to him was suddenly filled with what appeared to be an attractive woman. She had a good, strong chin, tempting blue eyes, readily kissable lips, and a rather nice (if covered) figure underneath her green dress. Exactly Jack's kind of woman. Of course, one could argue that any woman was Jack's kind of woman… "'Ello there, luv," he greeted with one of his characteristic smirks. Few women could resist those.

She blinked, clearly confused by the change of scenery. "Where am I?" she asked, her voice low and worried as she glanced about, as if trying to find some sort of trap.

"Dead," Jack announced soberly, figuring it best to just come out and say it. There was a very serious look on his face for a moment before the smirk came back. "Fortunately, though the circumstances are a bit wanting, you're in the company of the infamous Cap-"

"Dead?" the woman repeated, her blue eyes widening in surprise. "I can't be dead. I was just eating an-"

"-tain Jack Sparrow," Jack finished, with a sigh. Seemed everyone wanted to cut him off before he finished with the best part these days. Didn't his name mean what it used to?

The woman seemed not to have heard Jack. "I can't be dead!" she insisted again. "How am I supposed to perform?" She glanced wildly about the room, ignoring the leering stares of all the men waiting for whatever it was they were waiting for. "How did I die?"

"Well, one can ne'er be certain," Jack said, with a slight sigh. His smirk was still there, as he was determined to welcome the lovely lady properly. He had, after all, just shared a rather teasing kiss with another beautiful woman and was rather anxious to see if he could go any further than that. "As near as I can figure, it was likely poison." The woman turned and looked at him, clearly curious as to how Jack would jump to such an obvious conclusion. "I mean, ye were eating and all. Didja have any enemies?"

"Who doesn't?" she asked with a snort, glancing at her rather hairy fingers for just a moment. Every eye was staring at her as she was the only woman in here. Perhaps this was the final resting place of those stupid men who were killed by other men. Women, being the more intelligent gender, didn't often kill one another for the fun of it. She was probably poisoned by her jealous best girl friend. "Musta been Mark," she finally decided, slumping in the chair and spreading her legs in a rather unladylike fashion. It was fortunate her dress was so long, really. "He was jealous. I always got the parts he wanted."

Jack's eyes widened slightly as he carefully eyed the finely dressed woman wearing rather heavy makeup. "An' what parts were those?" He just had to know, though he was reasonably sure what the answer would be.

"Well, Mark always ended up in the chorus. I have a better voice and would generally get the leads in each opera the Company put on." The woman smiled very slightly, her voice full of slight regret. "It isn't my fault his parents waited so long whereas I had the operation when I was eleven."

Jack tried desperately not to pull a face as he realized what his fine and lovely companion was actually saying. She was a he, a eunuch. Quite common in opera, which was probably what she -he- had been prattling on about. "Did it hurt?"

The transvestite glanced at Jack curiously. "What?" There was a slight note of warning to his voice.

"You know…" Jack mimicked a pair of scissors with his hands chopping away at something. "Snip snip?"

The look he received in return confirmed what Jack had long suspected. However, the gentleperson did not actually articulate an answer. Who would, with such painful subject matter? They sat in rather awkward silence for a moment. Crimp quietly whispered, "She's a he!" to the man next to him and soon the whole room knew. Many were trying to see under the skirts of said person to make sure that was true. He definitely looked like a woman.

"Who did you say you were again?" the eunuch pressed of Jack when he tired of trying to look demure at all the stares.

Jack quickly snapped out of his reverie. He'd been wondering if the slime all over him would ever dry. "Captain Jack Sparrow," he announced, proudly. It felt good to say that.

"Aren't you that pirate?" the prima donna questioned, carefully eyeing the illustrious captain.

"Aye, I am," Jack confirmed. He wondered, briefly, if "she" was from Europe. It was likely, as the opera really wasn't all that big in the Caribbean. If so, his fame had spread further than he'd realized. He knew he was known in Asia, South America, the Colonies, and the Caribbean…but had never really considered that he might be making a name for himself in jolly old Europe with her dignified ways…

"I dated a pirate once," the eunuch said, a slight smile on his face. "Short, hairy fellow. Bad teeth and worse breath." The smile broadened. "His name was Anthony Pintel."

"That's not right," Crimp muttered in Jack's ear.

Jack nodded his agreement. It did sound like something Pintel would do, however. "Ah," was all he said in response as he started playing with some of the slime between his fingers.

"He had an interesting view of the world, that Tony. Didn't seem to bother him that I'm, well, different." Only a few of the recently departed were paying attention anymore. It seemed that women went to a different locale than men when they left God's green earth. Or maybe they were all being punished for being womanizers by not having women around any longer. "If he hadn't been so blasted brave, offering to kill that vagabond with only one eye that stole my string of pearls, I should have liked to spend more time with him. He ran off into the darkness and I never saw him again."

Jack wasn't particularly fond of people that enjoyed rambling on about nothing at a time where nothing was certain. Of course, this was probably some sort of Hell, waiting for eternity with naught but a room full of bloodied men for company with no food, water, and blinding white walls. He already felt as though the space was closing in and that there was less air as Mister Wants-to-be-a-woman started going into detail about his relationship with Pintel. Was this his reward for being terribly noble and doing the right thing?

"Jack Sparrow?" a heavenly, sweet, and terribly good timed voice called out as a door appeared between two chairs and a tall blonde wearing a divinely white dress stepped out. She seemed to be glowing and far whiter than the walls could dream of being. All conversation stopped in the waiting area as every pair of eyes watched her float along.

Jack instantly stood. "Captain Jack Sparrow," he corrected with a gentle chiding note to his voice. He had gone down with his ship like a good captain and deserved his title.

"My mistake, Captain," she replied with a slight smile gracing her flawless face. "Please follow me. We're nearly ready for you."

Jack gladly obliged, looking at Crimp apologetically as he passed by the crewman. Crimp sighed loudly and then started feigning interest in whatever the eunuch was saying about opera. Apparently Jack was getting special treatment. Maybe it wasn't so bad that he'd gone out all heroic…

They reached a small hallway where the woman stopped in front of a large square crate, pulling out a book that had Jack's name on it. "You're not a eunuch, are you?" Jack questioned, glancing downward at her as she straightened.

She laughed and shook her head. "Most assuredly not, Captain." She smiled at him, clearly intrigued. She started walking again at a slower pace.

"What's that?" Jack asked, as he pointed towards the folder with his name on it. Curiosity was burning in his mind. What was to happen now? Would they pass final judgment on him?

"This is the record of your life, Captain," the woman replied matter-of-factly. "Every good and bad thing you've ever done is inside this very folder. Call it the book of your life, if you want."

"Ah." Well, now that was answered, it was probably best to get on her very good side, eh? Couldn't hurt, at least. "Thank you, luv."

"For what?" she asked, her eyebrow arching. She paused to look at him, her brilliant green eyes calmly taking in every inch of his appearance. It was clear she approved of what she saw.

"Rescuing me. That eunuch back there…" Jack pulled a face. "This be the first time I've ever been rescued by a maiden as fair as you, luv. Are you an angel?"

The woman laughed softly and shook her head. "I just work here, Captain," she responded. "Escorting poor souls such as yourself from the waiting room to the other room. It's terribly boring, but every once in a while I'm fortunate to speak with someone such as yourself."

Jack grinned. "Aye, ye are an angel. At least an angel of mercy." He stepped nearer to her, reaching out to gently touch her cheek. "I'd really like to get to know you better, luv. What is your name?"

"Lucinda." Her eyes seemed to light up as she smiled all the broader.

"What a beautiful name!" Jack leaned in closer. "Lucinda…how about you an' I go into one of these rooms an' get even better acquainted, eh?" He'd been waiting for a while, why not make them wait for him?

"Maybe after you've had a bath," Lucinda replied, trying not to gag. "You smell terrible, Captain."

There was no denying that. "Ah," he remarked, with a slight sigh. "Well, after I have a bath, how abou' we go an' you tell me about your life an' I'll tell you about mine an' we can know each other very properly. Savvy?"

Lucinda looked very tempted for a long while, chewing on her bottom lip. It was impossible to resist a man like the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow, even if he was dead… She shook her head almost imperceptibly when she saw a man dressed in white walking past them, giving her a look that meant she was supposed to be doing her job. "Come along, Captain," she said, brusquely.

Jack pulled a face and shook his head slightly. "Bugger," he murmured under his breath as Lucinda started walking away, staring at her skirt dancing and swaying as she moved. "What are we to do, then?"

Lucinda shrugged and then quickly led him into a small room with two chairs. She motioned him into one and then handed him a stack of papers taken from his folder along with a quill and some ink. "We'd like you to fill this all out, first."

Jack blinked as the papers fell into his lap. "What are all these?"

"Forms," was the short reply, as she slowly sat down across from him. "We have to determine where, ultimately, you need to end up."

"Which circle am I in, if ye don' mind me asking?" Jack queried as he thumbed through a few of the papers with very small print.

"Beg pardon?" Lucinda clearly didn't get the reference.

"Well, I figured…I've spent most of my life doing things that aren't so good. Shouldn't I end up in one of the circles of Hell?" Jack paused over a particular paper, grinning at what he saw. He remembered that as if it were yesterday.

"Oh…Dante." Lucinda laughed softly. The room seemed to brighten afterwards. "I'm afraid I'm not privy to that sort of information, Captain. I can tell you, however, that this will not be what you're expecting."

Jack glanced up at her. "I wasn't expecting anything, so already you've exceeded said expectations, really. I'm not all tha' worried."

"Good," Lucinda remarked, sitting back in her chair and crossing her legs. "They should call you in soon."

Jack was silent for a few moments as he looked at another piece of paper. He almost wished he hadn't done so many things in his life. It would make for less reading. "If you don' mind…why do I have to read all this an' sign these?"

"Well, they're going to talk to you about what is on those papers. Need to make sure you're up to snuff on all the information beforehand," Lucinda replied simply. "They're going to review your life, you'll have to give your account on what actually happened…and then they weigh the positive and the negative and we let you go. Everyone goes through this. And some, some are important enough to head to World's End. Others…well, they're lucky enough to rest for eternity. And others still…well, we don't talk about them. Unlucky blighters."