AN: Not much to say...other than I can't believe I even thought up this situation. For those of you who thought that "The Incident" was ridiculously stupid...this just might rival that. Yes, me and my friend have done some pretty stupid things...

As always, enjoy.

Canastas were the main source of amusement during the evenings, the teams now forever set as Meg/Me vs. Jack/Will. It was an ongoing competition of who could win the most games.

Daylight was a different story. Meg and I had already proven that we were incapable of helping to sail (though I was catching on to what everything was called, with the help of Will), and Jack and Will were always busy keeping the ship in order. We were sent to do odd jobs (mopping was Jack's personal favorite), but we also happened to have lots of free time.

For once in my life, I seriously considered doing my homework. I had a huge essay that was due (well, the date had probably past, but my teachers take no excuse for late work), and probably ten math assignments to catch up on. And my NM history homework. And Biology homework. And Latin homework. I mean, at least I would be doing something instead of just sitting there doing nothing except staring blankly out at sea…

Which turned out to be very bad.

I, as of now, hate the ocean. There is just too much of it.

I suppose part of my hated comes from the Midwest. No offense to those living there, who, I am sure, are a group of wonderful people; but…

I HATE flat.

Is that word bolded and underlined enough?

I cannot stand the feeling of exposure that flatness gives. I have grown up with the wide open, crystal blue sky…but there was always a mountain there. Or at least a tree, or a hill. Something to break the monotony of the scenery. But the ocean is just…boring. Boring and me do not mix. And as had been proven once, boring/me/Meg can cause some pretty wacky things to happen.

This was no exception to the rule.

During one of the numerous periods of nothing, I had been fishing around I my backpack, trying to locate my MP3 player. Instead, I came across my track spikes, which, by the way, were now outfitted with brand new, sharp, pristine spikes, in preparation for our District track meet that had already passed. Meg was sitting on a barrel next to me, looking out the port hole. "I can't believe I have to wait until next year to wear these again," I huffed. "Districts was my last chance to qualify for State in hurdles, and now I've missed it."

"Who says you have to wait until next year?" sighed Meg.

"What am I going to do? Wear them on the deck? They'd scratch the surface all up. And I don't think Jack would appreciate that. He hates me enough as it is." And I do believe that hate is a correct description. I had yet to understand what made Jack dislike me to the extent he did, but whenever I spoke to him, it always turned into an argument.

Meg laughed. "There has to be something we can do with them. I mean, we're surrounded on a ship made of wood--"

"That's what ships are usually made of."

"--shut up. We have these spikes that would dig in nicely. Imagine the starts we could get on this stuff. I think tracks ought to be made of wood."

"Do you realize how much that would hurt if we fell?"

Meg sniffed indignantly. "I was just imagining…"

I laughed and sat down next to her. Jack was at the wheel…again. Will was doing something in the rigging. And we were stuck down here staying out of the way. Canasta wouldn't happen until another few hours. "Good grief, I don't think I have ever been this bored," I complained. Taking my spikes, I stuck them in my hands and had them walk up the side of the ship. Meg was watching with unrequited interest, the same type of look that had caused "The Incident." Glancing at her once more, I smiled slightly. "What are you thinking?"

Meg cracked a full blown, trouble-making grin. "The main mast is made of wood."

I looked at her, eyebrow arched. "And?"

She took her spikes and began walking up the side of the ship. "Imagine if this was us."

"Wearing the spikes?"

She nodded.

I snorted, trying to hold in the laughter that was coming. "You do realize that Jack is right there?"

"We wait."

"For what?"

"For him to leave, silly."

I studied her face carefully. "So…we can climb up something and…die? Meg… "The Incident" was bad enough…"

"This won't be as bad," she promised. "We aren't putting the ship in danger, just ourselves. And this is something we're quite capable of getting ourselves out of. Right?"

She smiled assuredly and squeezed my arm. "And, honestly, it has got to better than sitting looking at the ocean for hours on end.

Well, if anything, it certainly had to be better. She had my full vote of confidence immediately, and after grabbing our spikes, we went to the top deck and waited, mulling around innocently.

It wasn't long until Will came out of the rigging, singing, "Whistle While You Work" (taught to him just two days ago), and smiling contently. With a pleasant nod, he walked past us and up to Jack. And within moments, disgruntled sounds of annoyance were being heard from the helm.

"I think you ought to--"

"No, I don't need to," interrupted Jack. "The coordinates are right."

"Well, I checked the map this morning, and after watching the sun for the last three hours--"

"You will find that we are taking a short cut."

"Short cut! What are you--" Will threw his hands up in the air, a rare moment where it seemed he might lose his temper. "Jack Sparrow, we are trying to rescue someone I happen to love. We don't have time to take "short cuts" and get lost!"

"Give it up, Will," I yelled to them. "It's like trying to argue with a brick wall. He won't budge, and no form of sound is going to get through that thick skull, so--"

Jack was at my elbow before I could say 'Jack Russell.' "You've been trying my patience since I met you, Evalyn."

I noted very quickly he had not be drinking recently; after some quick calculations, I discovered that, except for one long morning, Jack had, in fact, not consumed any form of rum for the past two days, thanks to my Canasta rules. Great. Now he was going to be excessively irritable. Oh, and there was the fact I had taken his cabin last night…

And, as was my usual response, I too became rather frustrated.

"Good grief, Jack, you could at least listen to Will! Just because you're the captain doesn't make you forever right!"

"That's Captain Sparrow to you, Evalyn," he growled. "And because I am captain, I am forever right."

I could feel myself start to cry. Now, I would like to note this isn't because I was scared, sad, insulted, afraid, but because I was so stinkin' angry. Rarely do I cry when hurt, but whenever my temper boils over, after I've gotten a good yell in, I cry, and while I continue to cry, I yell. I had held up all of my anger so far, and now it was pouring out.

Through most of this trip, I had gained the impression that Jack enjoyed butting heads with me. Of course, only about a week had passed so far, but almost anything that I did, I was met with Jack standing in the way, being the bullheaded fruitcake that I had not thought he was capable of becoming. Before, when first seeing the movie, I had seen him as a kooky pirate who was at heart, a good person.

Now that I knew him, I didn't care how good he was at heart, because he sure wasn't being good to me.

To say the least, I strongly, immensely, absolutely disliked the man.

"Don't tell me you're crying," Jack snorted.

I turned away to brush the tears away, not bothering to answer. Meg came to hug me, and, as my emotions generally behaved, my intense anger swung back to relative calmness very quickly. This man was an idiot, but at least there was Meg to balance out my problems. We would probably be laughing about it tonight.

But Jack didn't seem to want to leave the subject alone: no doubt due to the lack of alcohol running in his veins. "Great, now I have a crying girl on the ship! Why don't both of you…go off somewhere I can't see you. Or better yet, why don't you just…disappear, or just get yourselves killed, since you have a knack for that anyway…" With a final livid grunt, he stormed back up to the helm.

Will had come down to our side, and with one final desperate look at us, he chased after Jack. "Wait, Jack, listen…"

Meg and I exchanged glances, and then looked down at our spikes.

Smiling devilishly, Meg yelled back up to Jack, "Well, I'll just take that as permission, then."

We sat down and put on the spikes. Meg's comment had caught both men's attention, and they came over, Will with a look of intense worry, and Jack, who had the grace to look just a little uneasy.

"Permission for what?" Jack asked, watching as we walked toward the main mast with our spikes. "Oi! You're cutting into the deck!"

"Permission to do…this," answered Meg, grabbing a rope tat was hanging down. Giving it a good tug, she grinned at me. "Ready, Lyn?"

I took my own rope and pulled at it, making sure it was tight. "Ready as ever. Should we tie them?"

"Probably." We took the ends and tied them to right above our chest, under the arm pits. Taking the rope into our hands, we simultaneously each put a foot on the mast and pulled up.

The foot held.

"Yes!" we shouted together, giving each other a big high five.

Looking over at the two men, I saw that Will now held a look of terrified horror, and Jack of stupefied confusion. "Now, don't get mad at us," I reminded. "We're only doing what we do best, Captain."

"You two can't honestly--" began Will, coming toward us to pull Meg down.

Neither she nor I paid any mind.

Instead we climbed up and up and up. I couldn't help but think that the view would have more spectacular if it changed at all, but the thrill at being up so high made up for the lack of scenery. All things considered, the climb was relatively easy; we were in good physical condition, and we were sure not to slip because of the spikes.

Soon we had reached the main topmast (top of the main mast...duh), and the view was just short of outstanding. Off in the distance was the outline of a small island, and little specks signaled boats sailing nearby. Nothing too near, nothing to worry about. Not exactly my preferred mountain range, but interesting in its own right.

"Wow, Meg, look at that!"

I pointed to a large wave coming our way.

It didn't seem to register that it was coming toward us, until Meg gave a short scream and clutched her rope harder.

The wave threw itself against the hull and rocked the ship, but neither of us slipped; not even our spikes. These things ought to be used in mountain climbing more often.

"What was that?" she called down.

"Just a wave, nothing to worry about," answered Jack. "Now why don't you come back down, before you do kill yourselves." He paused. "You can come down, right?"

We laughed, and I said, "I thought you wanted us to die?"

I hoped he sensed the humor in my response.

"Well, preferable, but I have my own life being threatened if yours are lost."

Both of us laughed, and watched as Will glared at Jack, or at least imagined him doing that. "We can come down, don't worry," Meg answered.

I almost began climbing down (now, keep in mind this is, like twenty or thirty feet above the deck), but I suddenly felt a loosening around my chest, and saw that the rope I held had come undone from around me. "Shoot. Guess I'm going down anyways," I mumbled.

Meg looked over. "Oh, that sucks, here maybe I can--"

I wouldn't have noticed anything was wrong unless I had looked at her eyes; wide with terror, a scream forming on her lips. I directed my eyes to where hers were pointed, and saw my rope, which happened to be badly tied to the yard (pole thing that the top sail is connected to), coming undone.

I was going to fall.

Luck was the only thing that kept me alive. At the same moment the rope came loose, a particularly large wave crashed against the side of the hull, and I flung toward the yard. Just before I plummeted to the ground, I snatched at the sail itself. It ripped a little, but stayed relatively firm.

Heart pounding in time as I swayed and blood in my mouth, I looked down below me, seeing Will run around frantically, and Jack lolloping behind him. Meg's scream, which I hadn't heard as I was tossed around, faded from the air, and my senses focused on the deck beneath me.

I am not afraid of heights. Usually. But at this instance, a scene from Horatio Horn blower (a miniseries on PBS. Very good. Watch it.) went playing through my head; a young man loses his footing in the rigging and falls, splattering his entrails on the deck.

Suddenly, I was nauseous, my heart sped up, and dizziness over took any reasoning I had. I knew I was going into shock, but the horror of it all was clouding me.

I was too scared to scream; instead, I felt my face go pale.

RIP!

The sail ripped farther, and in an instant I was out of my stupor and hurriedly attempting to climb up to the yard. But my motions were shaky, and I nearly lost my grip.

RIP!

The small part of sail I was clutching to was almost free of the main body. Thankfully, another wave crashed on us, and I went swinging toward the end of the yard…only to grab a badly tied rope.

Once again, luck held out, and the rope stayed put, but just barely.

Another scream from Meg. Before spinning around to face the ocean (I had very little control over my body at this point), I saw her struggling to hold onto the mast: her rope had undone itself too, but she had had the sense to grab the main mast in time. However, she was steadily slipping.

This was the stupidest idea we've ever had, I thought to myself. What in the world were we thinking? The death wish?

"Just a moment, Meg, I'll get you," called Will. He was climbing the rigging expertly toward my friend, and within moments, he had hold of her arm. "Dig in with your shoes and push toward me. There, you're fine now." Grabbing her by the waist, he pulled her next to him, and he directed her toward the rope ladder down to the deck.

My distractions had stopped me from noticing the rope in my hands, and as I felt a slipping sensation, I panicked and tried to climb up. The rope slipped just as I grasped the yard.

"Hold on, Evalyn, hold on."

Looking to the right of me, I was surprised to see Jack coming toward me, seeming almost as scared as I was. Why was he coming for me?

The obvious answer was to be the rescue party, but in my state of stupor and shock, I asked, "What are you doing?"

He kept a calm face, still climbing toward me. "Calm down and just stay still. I'll get you."

The faint cries of 'Lyn!' could be heard below from Meg. At least she was safe.

And then my hand started to slip.

"Jack, Jack! I'm slipping!" I cried out hoarsely.

Frantically, I tried to swing myself and grab on with my right hand, but instead, Jack snatched it, letting me get a firmer grip with my left. "Swing your left foot up and catch the mast."

After three feeble and shaky attempts, I successfully did as instructed, leaving me to cling like a monkey. Cling is not an apt word. How about…clutch with an iron grip to the point where my body was fused to the mast? Yeah, that's closer.

"Relax, luv," comforted Jack. "I'm not going to let you fall. Now slip your right foot into this rope; don't worry, it's tied well."

Taking my upper arm, he led me to the rope ladder and helped me down to the deck, where Meg tackled me to the ground in a tight hug.

She was shaking, and at the sight of her so relieved and exhausted, I began to cry. This time I wasn't angry, but stressed out to my limit.

I was never doing that again.

"Listen, when I said 'go get yourselves killed,' I wasn't really serious," explained Jack, helping me up.

I wiped away my tears viciously. "I know, I know. It was stupid."

"Was it your idea?"

Meg shook her head. "Mine."

Jack and Will looked at each other, and it was extremely similar to that of exhausted parents exchanging looks over their little five year olds. "Okay…" said Will after an embarrassing moment of silence. "Why don't we go down to the galley, and I'll fix us up something to eat. Then I'll tell you that story about the time when my old friend and I when skinny dipping in a cave by the sea. Should cheer you two up."

Oh yes, Will can cook. And he's very good. The thought of a decent dinner helped to relieve the shock of nearly dying, and to know that it would be coupled with another funny story helped all the more.

Removing my spikes, I followed after Meg, but not before noticing a strange look that Jack was giving me; a confused look, but not angry. Just confused. "What?"

"You didn't scream."

"I was too afraid to really do anything."

He nodded once, then thumped my on my back. "Good girl. I don't like…screaming women," he said when I opened my mouth for an explanation. "Listen, about last night over Canasta…"

"Forget it. I don't care." Or more correctly, I certainly didn't feel like talking about any of that right now. Too tired. Too shaky. I'd forget about it eventually anyway.

"Right." Jack smiled, his gold teeth glinting in the afternoon sun.

It was infectious. I gave a small grin back, and we went down to the galley.

Nothing was ever spoken between us, but at that point our interactions changed. Jack wasn't so bullheaded; I wasn't so bullheaded. We didn't fight (much), and our arguments changed from snarling cat fights to sarcastic comments thrown back and forth. It wasn't perfect, but what friendship is? For, from that moment on, we had become friends, if ever how strangely.

Odd what life and death situations can do to a relationship.