Long time no see! I hope you're still there. Jack finally decided to talk to me, so here is my take on the beach scene.
Previously:
Will strode across the beach with a single-minded objective. Elizabeth watched as he kneeled in front of the chest.
"I'm going to kill Jones," he said confidently.
But he did not get a chance to make good on his promise.
"Can't let ye do that, William," Jack said.
And then he moved faster than one drew a breath, sending a shiver down Elizabeth's spine when she saw a strange glint in his eye. She had not predicted that he would be the first one to draw a sword. Yet, undeniably, there was a blade at Will's bare throat and Jack looked every bit like he meant the threat.
JPOV
Despite being a pirate through and through, Jack was not a violent man by nature. Sure, he did not shy away from drawing a weapon in a battle or even killing an opponent when a need for self-defence called, and he landed in one scuffle or another often enough, but he preferred resolving issues with a crafty choice of words over fighting. He was the type of man who knocked a guard out rather than slitting his throat when he needed to sneak in undetected, a captain who punished disobedient crew-members with additional load of work or by locking then in a brig to cool down rather than serving lashes to their back. And yet, he could not deny that putting a sword to William Turner's neck brought him strange pleasure.
That sleazy, swollen-headed codpiece, with grubby hands and irritating voice. He thought he was charming, with his self-centred attitude, sour jokes and paws all over Jack's wife. The last thing Jack would let the bastard do was getting them all killed because he had suddenly felt a foolish need to stab the heart instead of using it to negotiate with Jones.
Of course there was that uncomfortable little detail that Turner still did not know that Elizabeth was Jack's wife. She did not tell him.
She did not tell him!
And if she did not, Jack sure would not be the one to break the news and risk getting heat for that from both Will and Elizabeth.
Forget it, mate. She clearly doesn't want him to know. She kissed him.
She did not. He kissed her.
That was probably the main reason why Jack still had a grip on his self-control: he watched her like a hawk and immediately noted that she did not raise her head to meet the whelp in a kiss and held her arms stiff at her sides. Could the mongrel not see that he was not welcome? Bloody hell, she probably still smelled of Jack.
Ye have to admit, though, he has the impeccable timing where the key is concerned.
"Jack," Elizabeth's voice was both wary and held a warning for him.
He told himself to focus and zeroed his eyes on the boy, who, despite the cutlass resting at his throat, seemed still unaware of the seriousness of the danger he had found himself in from Jack, for the first time in their acquaintance.
"And why is that, Jack?" Will asked with barely veiled impatience.
"'Cause if Jones is dead, who's to call his terrible beastie off the hunt, eh? Now, if you please," he extended his free hand toward young Turner. "The key."
Will made a move as if he was going to fulfil his request, but at the last moment redirected his hands reaching for Elizabeth's sword instead in a move that pulled an indignant gasp from the lass and earned him reluctant respect from Jack. The boy was learning. No matter what William liked to think, the time he had spent among pirates had not been without leaving mark on his conduct.
"Will!" Elizabeth hissed, looking unimpressed, this time with William. Jack could not quite tell if she she was more irked by the fact that from that moment onward, they were both pointing blades at each other, or just by the thievery.
"I keep the promises I make, Jack," the whipper-snapper announced directing the stolen sword at Jack, ignoring Elizabeth, which Jack knew from experience to be a mistake. "I intend to free my father. I hope you're here to see it."
Ah. Bootstrap. William junior must have met his barnacled father on the Dutchman. Jack had some sympathy for Bill's fate, but saving him was not his quest.
It crossed Jack's mind, however, that Will hell-bent on killing Jones and freeing the crew of the Flying Dutchman might prove an asset in case Jones would somehow manage to force Jack into joining said crew, after all. Nevertheless, he would much rather not risk going through the process of getting killed first.
"I have no bone to pick with your old man, but seeing as he's already dead, and I'm not, I'll stick to saving meself," Jack said.
"Can't we just make sure Jones calls off the Kraken and then stab the heart?" Elizabeth interjected sensibly.
Will sent her a fleeting, surprised glance.
Very good, Lizzie.
"I like this plan," Jack backed her up quickly. "Brilliant!" Then he turned to Will. "Ye can have the heart as soon as 'm safe, I have no desire to keep the slimy piece of flesh, and I'll be rooting for ye to get the Bootstrap from under the Jones's boot. Now, hand me the key."
Will only smiled sardonically, barely hiding his irritation with Jack.
"He can't be trusted," he said, talking to Elizabeth, but looking at Jack. "I can't risk it. Sorry, Jack. You're on your own."
"I don't see how Jones slaughtering the Pearls is going to help anything." Elizabeth argued. "Give it to me, Will. You can trust me."
Norrington let out a peal of laughter that caused everyone glance at him incredulously. None of the present company had ever heard him laugh out loud.
"That should be entertaining," he said amused, looking from Elizabeth to Jack.
Elizabeth bristled. Before they could react, though, Norrington stopped laughing abruptly and joined in:
"Unfortunately, I can't let you stab the heart either," he said unexpectedly, baring his own sword and pointing it at Will. "So sorry."
"Excellent! I knew you'd warm up to me eventually," Jack exclaimed.
Norrington just shot him a look.
"Lord Beckett desires the content of that chest" he explained. „I deliver it, I get my life back."
"Ah. The dark side of ambition," Jack said, unfazed.
"Oh, I prefer to see it as the promise of redemption."
They crossed the blades in a strange tripartite rhythm and again, it felt almost good to Jack, for the sole reason that it let him blow off some steam. At least he was doing something.
"Stop it!" Elizabeth yelled. "Stop this madness right now!"
He knew she would not take well to being ignored, but he still did not predict her next move: she ducked quickly under the moving blades and stood in the middle of the triangle the three of them had created, causing them to come to a screeching halt, both Norrington and Turner calling her name and Jack almost dropping his sword.
"Lizzie, move aside," Jack grunted tensely.
"I will not stand by and watch you kill each other!" she spat angrily, facing away from him.
"Maybe you shouldn't have toyed with all three of us, then, Miss Swann," Norrington sneered. "Or should I use another name?"
Jack realised that he had underestimated just how offended the ex-Commodore felt by his and Elizabeth's recent actions. It had been bad enough that she had dumped the man for a mere smith apprentice, but yet another switch to a pirate was a double insult.
"Why are you wearing kohl?" Will asked suddenly.
Apparently, the kohl she had used the day before had not worn off, which Jack had not paid much mind to until that moment.
Reluctantly, Jack had to admit this might not have been the most opportune time for Will to find out.
"Don't look at me," Jack said, answering Will's accusatory glare. "She stole it."
"Would someone tell me what's going on here?" Will asked.
Jack made a split second decision and – before anyone could react – grabbed Elizabeth from behind and pulled her flush against his body, his ruse complete with his sword at her neck, in a move that was a reminiscence of their first meeting. He would never tell her that, but he had enjoyed the opportunity to grab her probably a little too much even back then. Not that he had really intended to cause her harm – not back then, and certainly not at the moment – but the damsel in distress bluff tended to be too damn effective to pass on.
"Nobody moves," he growled.
The two other men had adapted amusingly matching looks of confusion on their faces, but they lowered their weapons.
Of course, the person who did not listen to him was Elizabeth herself. He had his left arm wrapped around her, but she was struggling against him. He had to make sure that the blade did not actually rest on her neck, but rather a few inches away, so she would not end up injuring herself.
"What the bloody hell, Jack?!" she spluttered. "Let go of me!"
"Shhhh..." he pressed his cheek against hers, not leaving even a breathing space between them.
"Unhand her!" that was definitely William.
"Jack Sparrow! Let me go this second, you blackguard!"
"Easy, love. No-one wants ye to get hurt. Remember what I told ye last night?"
He meant the part where he had assured her she had been safe with him, but she probably remembered many things he had told her – like the part where he had confessed the effect seeing her angry had on him – because her cheek warmed against his skin. He would be lying if he said that he felt contrite about that.
"Then take the sword away, bastard!"
Despite the circumstances, there was something comforting about having her so close again, the length of his body pressed against her back. His newfound possessive streak rejoiced in holding her against him and away from these bumblers who were clearly still drooling over her – especially William, who annoyingly so thought he had rights to do that. It was a shame that they could not just go away and leave him in peace.
"Hold still," Jack murmured into Elizabeth's ear. "Ye might cut yerself if ye trash around."
"You wouldn't!" she grunted.
"Much to my own surprise, I'm inclined to agree," Norrington said, voicing an untimely vote of confidence in Jack. "I have no lost feelings for you, Sparrow, but I find myself doubtful whether you are deranged enough to follow through on this particular threat."
Jack gritted his teeth.
"Well, then, maybe ye should just go on and spar with William here, so I can save meself trouble of dealing with both of ye and just take care of the winner once this lovely duel is resolved."
"What are you trying to achieve, Jack?" Will cut in.
"Isn't that obvious?" Jack shot back. "I'm getting yer attention. Ye might not care for my life, but I was under the impression that ye were rather fond of the lady here. Now, what is more important to ye: keep the key, so ye can continue on yer risky mission to save yer cursed, absent, pirate father, or make sure this sweet lamb keeps all her golden hair on her head and stays away from me filthy paws?"
Just to further illustrate his point, he splayed said paw on Elizabeth's midriff, feeling her stiffening with indignation.
"I'll show you sweet, captain," she growled. It was somewhat amusing that that was the part she clearly took the biggest offence to.
Will's face reddened in anger.
That's it, mate. Right were I want ye.
Jack smirked, purposely making himself look as lecher-y as he could, which was not hard at all. He barely reined in a sudden and rather ridiculous urge to bite on Elizabeth's ear – it might have been too much.
William went mum for a little too long, making it impossible not to detect his hesitation – it seemed long enough not only for Jack, but also for Elizabeth to take notice, as she stopped struggling and zeroed her gaze on Will suspiciously.
"I don't believe your bluff, either," he finally said, in Jack's opinion rather lamely. "Stop hiding behind Elizabeth. This issue is between us – so let's resolve it between us."
Jack grinned broadly.
Too little, too late, he thought gleefully.
"See, love?" he mused to Elizabeth. "He doesn't mind."
"Jack," she said through clenched teeth. "I'm not a bloody bargaining chip."
She was spitting mad, which was troublesome, not just because it did not bode well for him, but also because he could not help but find the look absolutely mesmerising on her.
"But ye'd made an excellent prize."
"Jack."
"Gentlemen! I'm touched with yer faith in me," Jack said looking up at the Former-Fiancés-Club. "However..."
"Enough!" Elizabeth finally lost her temper.
"Oi! Careful!" he exclaimed, narrowly avoiding cutting her fingers when she simply used her unarmed hand to push the blade away, as if she was swatting a mosquito. The fact that she did not seem at all considering the possibility that he might not put it away quickly enough would have been amusing if it did not give him a scare for a second.
Oh, well. She wouldn't risk pulling the same move twice, would she?
And with that thought, he turned with a grace of a ballet master and in one long, smooth move leaned over to kiss her on a cheek…
"Another time, then," he said with a wink.
…and then spun simultaneously giving her a twirl that pushed her away from him, before lunging forward, cutlass first, toward Will and the blasted key.
"JACK!" he cringed when he heard her cry, this time her fury directed fully at him specifically, but didn't stop.
He would have to deal with that later. His feet were already carrying him in a familiar rhythm of the swordfight and a part of him was glad that they were carrying him away from her. He did not particularly fancy a duel (or rather, a truel), but he really did not have any time to lose. The black spot was eating away at his flesh with growing intensity and he had a feeling he knew what that meant – Davy Jones was close.