(OT: I'm soo sorry for the lack of updates! Finals got the better of me this past week and it has just been soo crazy! But now it is summer! Celebrate! So here is Elizabeth being threatened and how Will came to find out about Miss Swann and Jack.

NEXT: Elizabeth's capture/recieves the dress and Jack and Will unite to save fair lady.

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Her muscles clenched in one swift movement as his hot, fiery breath grazed against her cheek and passed into her ear. She had wanted to save the pirate, not die for him.

"Elizabeth...Elizabeth, isn't it?"

His moist chest pressed against her back as she said through grinded teeth, "It's Miss Swann." She felt the chain-links clang against her collar bone as she gradually lowered her tilted chin. Jack slackened his grip ever so slightly, creating room as Elizabeth inhaled sharply.

"Miss Swann," Captain Sparrow said as his feet shifted. "If you'd be so kind."

She hesitated, glancing at the Commodore as he offered the weapons.

"Come, come dear," Jack said. "We don't have all day."

The captain's effects folded against her chest, and Elizabeth was gradually beginning to realize what she was facing. He wanted her to simply attach each piece he lost... but she was less certain of what the favor bode for her.

With one bejeweled hand on her wiry shoulder, the pirate spun Miss Swann around and raised the flintlock pistol to the girl's drenched head. She refused to even so much as glance at the single shot, for that would only make her crumble. Instead, Elizabeth locked gazes with Jack Sparrow, her mouth slightly agape as his steady breathing fell into rhythm with the thumping of her heart.

"Now," he said, his voice soaked and rumbling against her. "If you'll be very kind."

Elizabeth looked down to the weapons and his empty ensemble. She wanted to shriek and shout and slap his smirk away, but the red-coats flaring eyes and her father's constant stare forced her to reconsider, as did the foreboding bullet. Elizabeth reluctantly situated the weapons and slung the leather belt over one arm as she reached up to the plant his tricorne hat, her gaze following the Captain's. He appeared to be enjoying this! She smashed the hat against Jack's head, pressing it down upon his drying dreadlocks and glaring at him malevolently. The twenty year old then separated the baldric's buckle and looped it across the pirate's shoulder, tightening the strap and nearly embracing the man, watching the pistol wobble out of the corner of her eye as her translucent wardrobe scraped against his own layers. She heard him grunt slightly. Elizabeth withdrew and then fastened Jack's belt, cinching his thin waist.

"Easy on the goods, darling," the captain said.

Elizabeth rose into his face, her hands free now. "You're despicable."

"Sticks and stones, love."

Stick and stones may break my bones but words can never hurt me.

Elizabeth would make a point of hurting him the next time around...Especially if she had a pistol or knife in hand.

"I saved your life, you saved mine. We're square."

In the strangest of ways, she could see someone understanding that logic. Perhaps a pirate would be reasonable in that aspect; she'd have to keep that in mind.

His wrists still limply lying against her, Jack swiveled the woman back around, his fingers briefly touching her neck as he tilted the pistol closer to her head. "Gentlemen!" And then a bit softer. "Milady..."

She could feel it growling inside of him. He had nothing to gain from rescuing her, but he did it anyway, and he wasn't going to harm her, and he never had any intention to. That bullet wasn't meant for her; especially if it was his only shot.

He said, "You will always remember this as the day that you almost...caught Captain Jack..." The shackles flung over her head, his hands compressed against her back and then shoved. "Sparrow!"

Elizabeth released a small grunt as she was thrust into Commodore Norrington's arms, and she automatically gripped the man's lapels as the governor briefly patted her back, and she was relieved that it was over...But also wondered how Sparrow planned to escape.

The soldiers charged after the pirate with a thunderous roar, but Jack was already gripping a chain and smacking a lever with his foot before flying into the air. Governor Swann, Elizabeth, and James leapt backward as a cannon crashed through the docks, caving in around a few red-coats as the aimless man began to swing around and around, his muffled screams emerging. Norrington held onto Elizabeth for a moment, but she wanted to see. She wanted to see what he would do. How he would escape the clutches of James Norrington.

The governor shouted, "Now will you shoot him?"

His hands still on Elizabeth, but his mind elsewhere, the Commodore commanded, "Open fire!" The soldiers crouched and aimed their muskets, bullets rocketing into the sky as Jack yelled and flailed. He miraculously landed on his feet on a distant beam, and Elizabeth's eyes widened. How did he manage that?

"On his heels!"

James withdrew from the young woman, stepping forward as Jack looped his shackles over a rope and began to slide into the inner workings of Port Royal, displaying a triumphant stand against authority. Elizabeth was absolutely flabbergasted by the scheme and couldn't imagine conjuring up that sort of plan. She stared after the man, but Norrington turned back, his hand lightly resting upon her thin arm. Elizabeth glanced to his grasp and then to his eager expression. There was nothing that man loved more than good chase.

"Elizabeth, are you—"

"Yes," she nearly shouted, nodding to him and sliding from her father's grip. "I'm all right." He continued to gaze at her, uncertain and wanting to stay near if she was distraught. No need to be the rescuer, James, Elizabeth thought, you have that one covered. "I'm fine! Now go capture him!" Norrington reluctantly accepted the reply and headed off toward his soldiers.

Elizabeth realized she and her father were alone now, save for a few sailors watching the spectacle, and the young woman crossed her arms, biting her lip and wondering where Mr. Sparrow would hide. Surely he had another plan... Or perhaps he just played along with the twists and turns, swept in the wave whether it was crashing or not.

"Here, dear," Governor Swann said. "Take this." He offered Elizabeth his light blue coat and she allowed him to drape it around her shoulders.

"Thank you, Father...And..." Elizabeth desired to put it gently... No, she might as well be frank. "And let that be the last of your fashion advice, please." Huddling in the embroidered jacket, Elizabeth glanced out to the swarming bay, where a dense and eerie fog swathed the surface of the water, hovering closely. A chill vibrated up her spine, and she gulped as her father's comforting arm guided her away from the docks. She hadn't seen the likes of that sort of fog in years...Not since...Could it have been that long ago? The crossing from England, was it? Without thinking, Elizabeth's fingers wrapped around the pirate medallion before bringing both arms to her side, suddenly feeling cold and wanting no one to see the stolen possession.

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"Don't worry, Mr. Thomas," Will Turner said, shaking the man's hand. "Your order will be ready long before then.

"Thank you, Mr. Turner," an elderly fisherman said, patting William lightly on the shoulder.

"Anything I can do to help. You are one of my best customers, Mr. Thomas."

Releasing his hand, Will swiveled on his heels and strode away, his footsteps heavy as he trod down the path, dirt swirling against his white stockings and smudging his black shoes. He no longer cared whether he remained clean or not; the meeting with Elizabeth was over and done with, and he had ruined any chance of seeing her again that day. He had considered attending the ceremony, perhaps gazing at her, even if from afar, and pretending like he was there with her, like Elizabeth Swann would come home with him that night. Home. That was where his muscular legs were leading him now...Or at least what he was forced to consider home from the age of twelve years. With his gaze on the ground, and his eyebrows furrowed at the stiff expression he had witnessed on Elizabeth's face, Will continued to walk through Port Royal's streets, narrowly avoiding women busily sweeping through the market and children squealing for playtime.

"Mr. Turner," a man greeted him, and it brought William out of his reverie, and he studied the gentleman before realizing it was Mr.Gawn, a poor fellow who brought a sword in a month previous.

"Oh," he said softly and then recovered. "Good day."

"Beautiful, isn't it? That Commodore's got an instinct 'bout good days for ceremonies, eh?" Mr. Gawn scratched his balding head briefly, his hands then clasping at his stout stomach, his ragged blouse rising with every breath.

"Yes, he certainly has."

Will hoped to escape the conversation: He needed to have his fingers measuring the width of a blade, sharpening the tip, delivering the finished product, and then returning to the blacksmith shop to practice with his own spare swords. It was the only way he could think straightly...Without interruptions. Without hesitancy in his actions. Weapons gave or took control, and he desperately needed it... Especially today. Especially when he had faced Elizabeth so stupidly, like some drooling mongrel pup. Will suddenly realized Mr. Gawn had been chattering on about the elegant ceremony and all of the arrangements, and he was staring blankly at the man's forehead. He then nodded and gestured, far away from Mr. Gawn.

"I do apologize," Will said, "but I really do need to leave."

"Ah, I understand, lad. Got a bit of work to do, eh? When you going to purchase that shop? Anytime soon?"

Flustered, Will opened and then closed his mouth, appreciating an abrupt distraction. With Mr. Gawn a few feet behind him, William lurched away when an ornamented carriage rattled along the road, skidded to a halt, and then pitched in the opposite direction.

"Wonder what that was about," Will mumbled, cocking his head as he peered around the alleyway and watched the carriage charge toward the fort.

"Must've 'eard about the pirate," Mr. Gawn said. He turned to continue his trek, the conversation about the shop forgotten, but Will grabbed his arm.

"What pirate?"

"You 'aven't 'eard about him?" The tattered man smiled keenly and rubbed both hands together as Will relaxed his grip. "What a devil!" Mr. Gawn faced Will, his hands gesturing wildly as he said, "Down at the docks. Miss Swann nearly drowned, she did! By God! No one thought they'd get to her in time and this bloke plunged in and plucked 'er right out. Turns out it's a pirate, and Lieutenant—Pardon—Commodore Norrington was not happy at all, as you can imagine, and tried to arrest him. Well then, that pirate gets smart with 'im and seized Miss Swann and puts a pistol to 'er head. Didn't do no 'arm though. She was all right, but I bet that carriage is going to pick 'er up." He paused to look after the carriage's scattered trail and he smiled again. "Amazing, isn't it?"

"Yes, yes," Will said, his eyes bulging and his head whirring. "You said Miss Swann was all right though?"

"Most certainly wet and in 'er undergarments...Scandal... Ha! But she's all right. Bit frightened, I imagine."

If Will was right, and he usually was about these things, Elizabeth was most certainly not frightened. She was probably more infuriated that she was used as leverage. "And they caught him?"

"Who? The pirate? Nah. He managed to get away and is running around. Didn't you see the soldiers? They're searching high and low and barging into every building possible."

His lips pressed together, and Will nodded in comprehension. "Really was a fiend then," Will said in an almost inaudible tone before adding, "Once again, I must be going, Mr. Gawn. Have a nice day. And thank you for the um...Information."

"Anytime, Lad!"

Will spun and found himself trotting, practically galloping, into the city. How could he have missed the soldiers? He must have just passed them by, too busy thinking about how he upset Miss Swann when all the while she was in trouble. But he couldn't have done anything for her. Will repeated that in his mind over and over but still felt a certain level of protectiveness over his childhood friend. If someone threatened her, someone was threatening Will. He turned to the left and began to walk down the familiar road, eyeing each man suspiciously, looking for the forms of a scallywag. Will knew it was futile. What did he know of pirates besides what Miss Swann had told him?

Moments later, rows of obedient soldiers marched along, their long guns pointing to the sky and their eyes only focused on their duty. Will stepped aside and then reached for the doorknob, glancing up to that horrible wooden sign.

Brown

It should be Turner, he thought.

The young man entered the smithy, turned and latched the door, and then noticed that the smoky-gray donkey was fervently trotting in its regular circle. Will knelt down and stroked the animal's muzzle. Wonder what got into him. He then rose and thrust off his plain, brown jacket, gripping it by the collar as he ducked beneath the machine and tilted his head to one side, looking at Mr. Brown's restful, splayed slumber.

"Right where I left you," he said as he unfastened the top buttons of his stitched vest, wishing that the smithy had better ventilation. He tossed the coat aside and strode away from the lousy, unkempt man, continuing to fiddle with the buttons on his vest. His eyebrows furrowed when he saw his sledgehammer lying on one of the anvils, clearly employed recently.

"Not where I left you," he said. Will eyes twitched and he then spotted a tricorne hat, easily resting not a foot away from the sledge. Someone had been here... He reached for it, but a glistening blade promptly slapped against his hand. His eyes widened as he turned to the rogue. His hair was draped in tousled dreadlocks, his eyes gleamed with the promise of a victim, and his hands were lazily drifting as his gaze squared off with the young blacksmith.

"You're the one they're hunting," Will said, noting his attire and somewhat curious expression. "The pirate."