A/N: Yes, I am in love with ellipses. (…) How could you tell? And sorry for the "Jack is Cinderella" moment. I tried to write it so it wasn't cheesy. Dunno if I succeeded… but I tried.

Two Views

Katherine slid the door to the wardrobe shut, and tossed off the Chinese dressing gown. Her hands immediately went to the top of the bodice, and started pulling up. "Damn… dress…" In the past three years, she had gotten very used to wearing dresses that were at least two or three inches taller at the bosom than this one, but oh, what a difference even two or three inches made. The corset didn't help any, pressing her breasts against her, causing two swellings at the top of the bodice. The fact that this was an evening event didn't really help matters any, either. The later it was, the lower bodice lines could be cut, and the more shoulders would be bare… Elizabeth was just sending her a fashionable dress.

But the dress wasn't cooperating. Leave it to Elizabeth to be ignorant of what everybody else knew – that she was, as Jack said, "the demon woman," the one who was unfeeling, ungiving, a prude, a witch, really, she had heard all the names before. She remembered a time when she would've gladly worn this dress, and tugged it a bit lower, too, for that matter… and that was what Elizabeth knew. She sighed, and resigned herself to an evening with a revealing dress, and a man who would be staring all night. Good Lord. She furiously rubbed her right arm with her left palm. That was a feeling she hadn't felt in a while… She leaned against the back of the wardrobe and brought her hand up to a section of her hair, twirling it around in her fingers unknowingly, then realized what she was doing and tightly clasped her fingers in front of her. Oh, what she wouldn't give to be wearing a tight bun tonight…

Katherine abruptly stood up straight as three knocks seemed to shake the tiny wardrobe. "I'm finished."

"You sure? Tights and all?" She called.

"Tights," Jack coughed, "and all."

Katherine draped the dressing gown over her shoulders once more and slowly slid the wardrobe door open.

And there he was. Standing very nervously, he put his hand on the bedpost, then on his hip, then just settled for it being straight down. He looked, well, like a gentlemen. He had wiped off his makeup, taken off all of his jewelry, put on every bit of the suit correctly, and had managed to keep his hair intact during the process.

Suppressing the gasp she could feel coming on, Katherine slowly nodded her head in approval. "Very good, Mr. Sparrow. Now, just remember rules one and two and I think we'll have a fine evening. What time do we head out, anyway?"

He outrageously took a timepiece attached to a chain out of a small pocket in his waistcoat, flipped it open, and said, "Seven o'clock, Miss Winston."

Katherine couldn't suppress the laugh that came rumbling out of her gut. "Thank you, Mr Sparrow. And what time is it now?"

Jack quickly came out of his gentleman's stance. "Bloody hell, these numbers are tiny…"

"Come here, let me see." She shook her head and reached out for the timepiece. "Half after six. We should get going soon, if we're going on foot." She reluctantly pulled off the dressing gown and reached over to her closet and snapped out the accompanying shawl Elizabeth had sent her, crimson shot through with gold, and draped it over her lower arms, then held out her right arm to be taken.

Jack stared at her outstretched arm for a moment before it clicked, but just as he was extending his own arm, there were a few knocks at the door.

They looked at it in shock.

"Get… behind… the door…" Katherine hissed.

"What?"

"Get. Behind. The door." She said, slightly louder, her head and arms gesturing.

"Oh!" And he did so, very quickly, as Katherine smoothed her dress and made her own way daintily enough.

She opened it slightly, then wider, trying hard not to squish Jack.

"Miss Winston?"

"Hullo. Commodore…?" Katherine spoke in a slightly confused voice.

Commodore? Jack peered through the crack between the door and the doorframe, seeing James Norrington's sharp profile and white combed wig, sharp Naval uniform, and creamy white tights, his hat cradled in his hands. He cursed silently, and pulled at the back of Katherine's dress, trying to communicate the scumminess of the man that stood before her. She swatted his hand without changing her expression and continued.

"To what may I owe this pleasure, sir?"

"Ah, the pleasure is all mine, Miss Winston."

Scum. Scum. Scummy scum scum. He reached out to pull her dress again but her hand was waiting, and caught his wrist in a tight grip.

Next move, Jack, and I have no problem whatsoever squishing you into oblivion between the door and the wall, Katherine thought to herself, still smiling sweetly at the Commodore.

"I just came by because I heard that there were some… unpleasantries, that came to pass. To you, um. Last night."

Is he referring to what I think he's referring to?

"Fortunately… sir. They were… taken care of. Before they… got out of hand." She looked into his eyes to see if they were talking about the same thing.

Apparently they were, as the Commodore suddenly relaxed. "Oh. I mean… oh! I'm so very glad to hear that, Miss Winston. Be assured, you shall never have that kind of trouble again, from that particular, source." He coughed. "I see you're dressed up, may I assume it's for the reception tonight of the newly wedded Turner's? May I be so bold as to ask you, I mean to say, may I escort you?"

Katherine felt herself turning warm, as Jack's hand began to flap about uselessly in her grip. "Thank you, sir. But I am already attending with someone, I am expecting him to arrive any minute."

"May I inquire as to who is escorting you? Must keep our young ladies safe at home, you know." He said, his pride clearly wounded if a woman such as Katherine was coupled and he wasn't. Katherine grinned to herself.

Jack's hand began to flap more wildly.

Bugger bugger bugger bugger bugger bugger bugger bugger bugger bugger bugger bugger bugger, Jack's thoughts were on one track. If Katherine said his name, and the Commodore heard his name, than he would wait around for the person who belonged to his name to come. And he wouldn't come, because he was already inside the room. Well, it made sense to Jack, anyway. His hand was too much for Katherine, and it swatted against something hard. Oh bugger. If Katherine didn't know any better, she would think…

He just spanked me! Katherine thought to herself, trying to keep a straight face. He just… spanked me! Her brain boiled with anger. Mr. Sparrow, I won't give you the satisfaction of giving this fine gentleman your name, because when I'm done with you, there won't be much left for him to deal out justice to! And who deals out justice for turning someone into a cleaner, more respectable man anyway?

"His name is Mr. Sparley, Commodore. Mr. John Sparley."

The hand suddenly stopped flapping.

Oh, thank God, Jack thought. I knew she'd be a reasonable girl.

You'd better start to pray to whatever sort of heathen god you believe in, Katherine thought, because as soon as this door shuts…

"Ah. Good then. Well, have a good evening, Miss Winston. Please keep in mind to save at least one dance for me…"

Like hell she will…

Like hell I will…

"Yes, thank you Commodore. Good evening." Her smile strained as she shut the door.

They both pressed their ears to the door, and waited for the footsteps to retreat.

"Mr. Sparley?" Jack said, grinning.

"MR. SPARROW!" Katherine shrieked.

Uh-oh. Something didn't go as planned… Jack darted away from the door and lifted up the dressing table's seat, the legs facing Katherine.

"If you think! That you can get away! With slapping me like that! Than you are sorely mistaken!" For someone in a fancy dress, Katherine moved rather quickly, Jack noted.

Damn dress! It's holding me back!

"But I didn't mean to! I was just tryin'! To tell ya! Not te tell 'im! My name!" In the moment of great stress, Jack slipped back into his original speech.

He's just trying to enrage me more by going back to that idiotic way of speaking! Speaking like a pirate! A... pirate… Oh my God.

Suddenly deflated, Katherine sank on the bed. Jack lowered the seat tentatively and watched her movements.

"The hair, the smell, the speech. The rum. You're, you're a pirate, aren't you?" She said, in a defeated tone of voice, looking up toward him, her mouth slightly open, her eyes hurt.

Jack sat beside her gingerly, took off his jacket, and rolled up a sleeve of his "gentleman's" shirt to show her the pirate "P" branded on his forearm. She roughly grabbed his wrist and pulled the arm toward her, then traced the "P" with her right forefinger, nodding slowly.

She suddenly let the arm drop and cradled her right hand to her chest, her face turned away.

Jack was at a loss of what to do.

"Erm. So that's why I didn't want you do tell the Commodore my name."

Katherine nodded.

"And that's why I accidentally slapped you."

She nodded again, then sniffed greatly. "Do you have a handkerchief?"

Jack paused awkwardly.

"Don't tell me you don't have a handkerchief somewhere on that great big outfit of yours."

He rustled in his jacket pocket and pulled out what seemed to be a couple of yards of pure white fabric.

"No, that's your… Oh damn it all. Never mind." She blew her nose heavily on the thing-that-wasn't-his-handkerchief, then set it on her pillow. Jack was rather glad; he didn't want to handle that thing now.

"Okay, let's go."

"But I thought…"

"Much as I would love to discuss it," Katherine sniffed again, "my feelings and debt to Elizabeth is greater than anything I feel for you, positive or negative. Let's go." She stood, smoothed her dress, and draped her shawl again.

"Right. Same with me." He stood, and straightened, and took her arm.

It isn't true, thought Jack.

It isn't true, thought Katherine.