She turned to face the captain.

"I pulled him from the water so that he would not die so peaceful a death." Her response was met with a look of utter disbelief from the captain.

"—But 'lizabeth! Remember th' cannons and fire and explosions! Hardly a peaceful death to spare 'im from!"

"Exactly," Beckett murmured quietly from the floor, gaze focused on the ground. Without warning, Elizabeth spun round and kicked the steel grating, then turned back to Jack. Beckett noticeably flinched at the unforeseen action, and then tried to save face by taking it upon himself to attempt to stand.

Elizabeth continued. "You can see him there, Jack. Not a scratch or bruise on him! Nor a broken limb! For God's sake, even his hat has remained on!"

The pirate leaned over and peered around the woman at the arising captive. "I see wot you mean, luv. However, it's not to say that he's not wounded internally an' is bleeding to death as we speak."

Beckett was now standing, and steadily approached the bars. Jack noticed this.

"On second thought, maybe you're right," he added hastily.

"Can I talk to you about this somewhere else?" she mentioned to him quietly, so that perhaps Beckett would not hear. She was not quiet enough.

"Actually, Miss Swann, I'm quite curious as to what you're planning on doing, seeing as you didn't even ask the captain's permission to perform your little rescue."

With the sound of Beckett's voice much closer to her ear now, she was taken aback, and turned halfway so that she could now look over at him or Jack by merely turning her head slightly. I want to correct him, to tell him that it's Mrs. Turner now, but I do not wish for him to know any more about me than he already does. He would probably make up horrid lies about Will, knowing as he did spend some time with him aboard the Endeavour.

"She is Mrs. Turner now, for your information," Jack spat.

It figures he had to open his mouth,Elizabeth mused.

"Ah, Elizabeth Swann, a married woman. Does Mr. Turner know he is now married to you, or did you not inform him first either?"

"Nothing I do is any of your concern," she retorted.

He sighed exasperatingly.

"Well, seeing as you've rescued me from my watery fate, you must realize that you have now thrust me into your life once again. Maybe you should inform Mr. Turner of your actions…. That is, unless your intentions with me aren't honourable…." An impish smirk crossed his features again, making it obvious as to what he was implying.

Jack chuckled, stifling a smile with his filth-covered hand.

"And what are you laughing about, Jack?" Elizabeth implored, anger spreading over her features.

"It's just amusin' to me to think that anyone would actually want 'im in their life, is all." He motioned towards Beckett, who scowled.

All sign of rage left Elizabeth's face, and she glared at Beckett, then back at Jack.

"I want his wrists and ankles chained to the bars."

"Ooh, I do believe you're wrong, Captain Sparrow. Mrs. Turner here wants to play rough. Can't say I never entertained the idea myself, but it seems that my rescuer is a woman of action."

The notion of Elizabeth as a woman who enjoyed bondage caused a temporary stir of excitement in Jack's nether regions. Yet Mrs. Elizabeth Turner was not his and never would be… all excitation faded as soon as it had begun. The way she had looked at Will during his final moments alive spelled it out for him: she belonged to Will and Will alone, body and soul. During his thoughts, Elizabeth leaned into Jack's ear, pulling both of them away from Beckett's cell.

"You do remember the meeting that I am attending, Jack," she whispered. "I will be gone until sunset. I do not wish that the prig should escape through a breach in the hull."

"Ahh, that's right. An' while I'm at it, I'll commence patchin' up these holes."

The intimate conversation was interrupted by a deep voice laced with impatience.

"What are you two blathering about now?" Beckett demanded. He watched Jack disappear up the ladder. Elizabeth turned to face him. "You do know that I have an exceptionally astute sense of hearing," he continued, flashing a knowing grin.

"Even if you had, you would have lost it in the explosion or from your near drowning," she countered, not falling for his bluff.

He leaned his elbows against the mildewed metal grating, tsking at Elizabeth.

"I should think that you needn't be wasting any more precious time down here, being as my fleet will be descending upon this glorified wreck very shortly."

She flashed him an arrogant smile, leaning closer to the bars.

"Oh, hadn't you heard? After your ship was destroyed, your fleet retreated without as much as a single firing."

Although the disinterested look in his eye remained, his mouth fell open. Elizabeth continued.

"Without your control over Davy Jones, you are nothing, Beckett. My father governed an entire city… for years! Whereas you can't even get your massive fleet to attack the sorely outnumbered pirate fleet, or cause your own men to be concerned enough to circle about and scan the water for any survivors."

Beckett feigned disinterest.

"You aren't very skilled at bluffing, you know," he commented in a breathy voice.

"Which is precisely why I'm telling you the truth. If they were indeed descending upon us, do you really think I'd have remained here for so long? Just so you know, you were unconscious for at least an hour, so figure that into your calculations."

Jack returned with two sets of shackles, which caused Beckett to immediately back up against the far wall.

"This is going to be more difficult than I thought," Jack mumbled, moving past Elizabeth as he met her eye. "How 'bout this for a plan? I enter the cell an' push 'im up against the bars, all th' while you aim a pistol, an' then we slip th' shackles on'm."

After Elizabeth cocked the pistol and aimed it at Beckett, Jack entered the cell. Beckett could only laugh spitefully from his position against the hull of the ship.

"If you honestly believe that you are going to get me to approach those bars merely by aiming a gun at me, then you are sorely mistaken."

As Jack approached him, a big toothy grin revealing his many gold teeth, Beckett shifted towards the back corner of the cell, glaring triumphantly even though his motions reflected cowardice. All of a sudden, Jack leapt at the Englishman, his dagger appearing at Beckett's snowy white neck. Without so much as a struggle or a sound, Beckett walked over to the bars of the cell, Jack's dagger at his throat.

Once Beckett was at the bars, he would not budge. He merely glared slyly at Elizabeth from his position less than a foot away from her. A small grin danced across his face, as the barrel of Elizabeth's pistol rested against his forehead.

"Go ahead… Do me in," he teased, Elizabeth close enough to smell the sea salt on his breath.

"Put your hands through the bars, Beckett," she commanded.

At that command he spat in her face. Before she could even wipe off the offending substance, Jack's dagger was buried in Beckett's buttock.

Wincing in pain, Beckett yowled like a stray cat and fell forward towards the bars, banging his forehead up against the metal. Without delay, Elizabeth grabbed his wrists and pulled them through the bars to shackle them together. She noted that his hands were the opposite of Jack's; his fingers were short, stocky, and clean of any grime or jewelry— except for a large gold ring on the ring finger of his left hand – whereas Jack's fingers were long and thin, and were decorated with filth and jewelry on every finger. However, both men had small enough hands that could slip through the bars easily. Before Beckett could pull his hands away, they had been shackled to the bars.

Jack stood behind him, wondering how Elizabeth could have gotten so skilled at shackling men. Is she truly into that sort of thing? he wondered. She shackled me without my even being awares, until of course it was too late. Well, at least she didn't kiss Beckett to render him helpless. I don't think I could have watched that.

By the time he returned to reality, Jack saw Elizabeth squatting on the ground and slipping a shackle around one of Beckett's ankles. She snaked it effortlessly between the grating, and then shackled the other foot in place.

"You know, you really are bloody good at doin' that, 'lizabeth," he complimented huskily, yanking his dagger out of Beckett's soft flesh and casually guiding the blade of the knife to slice through the fabric of Beckett's pants. "Might I inquire as to how you became such an expert in shackling?"

"I am going to make you sorry that you ever did that, Sparrow," Beckett threatened, squirming uncomfortably from the new draft behind him, his voice so low that it was barely audible.

"Doesn't look likely that that will occur in th' near future, mate," Jack responded, cool as a cucumber.

Elizabeth could only smile triumphantly as she stood back up and wiped the spit off her face. Beckett winced from the renewed pain caused by the removal of the dagger, his forehead resting against the bars and eyes shut tightly as he struggled to regain his composure. Jack stepped out of the cell, locking the door and standing next to Elizabeth to watch the shackled captive. He looked down at his knife, which was now covered in blood.

Jack slipped his dagger through the bars and wiped the blood off the dagger using Beckett's velvet coat. He pulled it back through to show Elizabeth its renewed sheen. "We can even see our reflections, 'Lizabeth! I guess his bein' here does serve some purpose, after all."


Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far! Please leave me your feedback, whether good or bad! I want to keep this story as interesting and in-character as possible!