(OT: Another one of my favorite chapters. I extended the Peas in a Pod scene to 2 1/2 pages by one in the morning and decided that it needed to be alone as a chapter, instead of being blended in with the actual arrival and Will's re-entrance into the fic. So here she be, verging on J/E goodness...I know. I know. But I've longed to connect this even farther to Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest so that their actions are more clarified and more confusing all the same...I like Elizabeth's final thoughts on the matter (SPOILER: Her dismissal because those emotions rise again in DMC if you were blindfolded and your ears were plugged in the movie (j/k)) I also like the ending with Norrington and Jack. I found it to be a humorous image. Let me know what YOU think.

And to answer your question about carrying on into the next two films, check out my other fanfic called, "When the Rain Began to Fall." It is a combination of the Dead Man's Chest and At World's End with the deleted scenes and plenty pieces of my own creation :D. As a side note, I think you can actually see my progression as a writer though that fic as well, even concerning punctuation.

So enjoy! And thank you for all of the reviews!)

After much persuasion, Elizabeth had finally obtained several canteens of pure, cleansing water, and she had promptly found a bucket to act as her bath. For the next few hours, she scrubbed every last inch of dirt and grime from her body and smudged face, laughing at the sooty mark across her forehead that Jack had alluded to hours before. He really should've said something, but instead she had looked ridiculous, which wasn't such a bizarre thing considering she was wearing a soldier's uniform.

The woman thought a tidy bun would inspire much ridicule from the pirate as well as look entirely silly, so she merely twirled a bundle of hair on either side, tugged back the silky tresses, and then pinned the pieces to the back of her head. Surely it would slip from the pin within hours, if not minutes, by the way she had been running around the ship asking about coordinates and pestering the Commodore with far to many questions, but now the glistening white moon had slipped into the sky, illuminating the ship in a hazy glow. All would quiet down. She crawled back up the ladder, leaving the lantern behind, and strolled out on deck, passing by none other than the infamous Jack Sparrow.

He barely nodded to Elizabeth as her pretty hand brushed against the railing. She then halted, and Jack could see something simmering in the girl's mind. It wouldn't be long before…

"This is quietest you have been, Jack," she said.

Yep, there she chimed.

"It must be a record." She smiled, raking both hands against the railing, once again using it as an escape.

"I don't take Norrington's word lightly."

"Good," she said, nodding in agreement. "I don't want to see you in the brig."

His eyes softened and the glitz rushed back into his face as he snaked forward. "Growing fond of me, are you?"

She scoffed and shook her head. "A lot worse men deserved to be imprisoned and hanged. I merely consider you at the bottom of the list."

Jack smirked. He would call that some bit of fondness; apparently he had made a difference on that ruddy island.

"A compliment then."

"Oh, Jack," she whispered gently. She didn't want to imagine the horrors they would face once they reached Isla de Muerta…Or what Jack and Will would have to battle. "You plan to murder him, don't you?" It was a rhetorical question. "I want to be there."

The man's tongue clicked at her immediate, burning voice. It had such a poisonous sting, one Jack wouldn't mind tasting, but he managed to say lightly, "Far too dangerous for a lady, if you ask me."

She would be there. She would see Will one final time, maybe even fight alongside him. From the time she was twelve years old Elizabeth had noticed the maneuvers and thwarting blows Will and James performed on a day to day basis, especially when Will began to seriously practice sword-fighting. She would always be the weakling in their play-combat, but at least she was allowed to watch and participate. She was no where near as equipped as Jack, even if he were intoxicated beyond belief, but she could parry certain tactics and wasn't frightened of running a man through….That is, as long as the man deserved it. She left the wicked to be punished by God, but for the ones that veered in her or Will's way, she would slash them to tiny fragments. Glancing to Jack's solid stature, his arms crossed behind his back and his attire in its strange, eclectic order, Elizabeth realized that Jack now, rightfully, valued her skills. She knew how to plan just as well as he did and building the fire and burning the food, the shade, and the rum was concrete proof of that.

"And I might interfere," she said, tilting up her chin.

"Something like that." Or rather, exactly like that. Miss Swann was too cunning to risk having her in the longboat…Besides to bargain with Barbossa she certainly couldn't be present. She would see his every plan as transparent…As transparent as her shift…Jack smiled at the thought before shaking his head at the distraction.

"But you can do that? Can you just— Just stab him without a single scruple?"

"You learn indifference," he said nonchalantly, gliding back over to his station which was safely several feet away from Elizabeth. He couldn't help moving closer though, which was a curse and a blessing because Elizabeth never seemed to reject him completely or even toy with him. She was straightforward, which was one thing that made him drawn to her company.

"How many people have you killed?" It was a question that had drifted through her mind many times, but she had never gathered enough nerve to blatantly ask it. She had once wondered if that was what all those intricate, varied beads stood for. Lives lost, people saved, perhaps even souls that he deeply cared about. But Elizabeth still couldn't muster the courage to ask him that. For all she knew those beads and strange trinkets stood merely for his travels…or even ladies he cavorted with.

"I don't keep a tally."

With one hand on the railing, Elizabeth turned to the pirate and pulled out, feeling the resistance as she balanced on her single grip for a moment. "You choose not to count or at least you pretend not to." She lowered her voice and her chin, staring at him directly. "Can't we be frank with one another, Jack? Or are we still that different?"

"Love," he said, clearing his throat before continuing, "The only man that will be worth counting is Hector Barbossa."

Elizabeth nodded in understanding. His mutinous first-mate. Jack probably even considered Barbossa his friend. What an awful word it would seem to him. Friends. Perhaps he considered Mr. Gibbs one…Then again, she had to take in account the Pirate Code, one which many abided by and others rebuked. She recalled how close Jack had played every scheme to his vest, that is, up until now, and she immediately knew the gears were crunching figures in his head, weighing his gains and losses and preparing something fantastic. Hopefully he would not fall on his face; although those moments when Jack messed up could crack a smile every once and while. She couldn't forget the encounter she had read about Jack pretending to be a cleric in England... She wished she had been there.

Elizabeth had loitered in the Commodore's presence whenever Jack was instructing the man or offering advice, and she realized through the entire day, even as the sun settled into the rim of the ocean, he had never spoken of the Black Pearl's invincible crew. Jack had an abundant number of chances to expel the truth, and he had kept quiet. For Will's sake? For her own? The same form of question seemed to flicker frequently over the past few days.

She gazed out to the sea, the surface swarming with unique sea creatures that skimmed the surface and plants that had developed several feet, flapping above the misty fog that hung like death over the water. The clammy, moist haze had risen in the air, and Elizabeth could feel it swirl around her, much like the gunpowder had during the vicious battle between the two ships. And yet, the Dauntless continued to glide effortlessly, her linen sails barely rumpled in the wind but somehow moving the large vessel faster than usual. Jack Sparrow certainly did know how to steer ships. He seemed to always know when the wind would turn on them, when the rain would fall, and when the lady ship was at her best. It was far deeper than intuition...But not close enough to predicting the future. It seemed, she pondered, he also had a way with her, which Elizabeth appreciated and regretted. It meant that he saw her in lonely, vulnerable times as well as times when she was available with plenty of quips. As she gazed back to the fluttering sea, marveling as a school of fish flitted through a shallow mound of sand, she clenched the railing in her hands.

"You didn't tell him about the curse," she almost whispered and rocked back and forth on her toes.

"I noticed neither did you," Jack replied steadily, tilting back toward the girl. "For the same reason, I imagine." She was worried. It had seeped into her voice within seconds, and it ruined these past moments of light talk, even of murdering someone when he was still able to joke. Perhaps he could sneak one in and give Miss Swann something to think about, but he didn't count on it.

Elizabeth stared down into the serene sea again and then raised her head, her teeth gritted and the thought of Norrington flipping the boat upside down to run back to Port Royal flashing through her mind; it wasn't a pretty image.

"He wouldn't have risked it." And Will's insipid corpse would have been lost to the shallows of Isla de Muerta, a fate she didn't wish for anyone; not even Barbossa.

Jack Sparrow was never one to pass up an opportunity. "You could've gotten him drunk." Seemed that was always a way to persuade a man…or a woman for that matter. He smirked gleefully, pleased with himself, but Elizabeth's head swiftly whipped toward him. The lass wasn't in a very appreciative mood, and he could almost see guilt leaking from her eyes.

At the time, Elizabeth had had no scruples or even the slightest thoughts of how she might hurt Jack by being rescued by the Royal Navy. She only thought of Will's dank and dark future, and Jack's incoherent ramblings. If they had been trapped on that island for more than a week, they would have eaten each other alive, so she did what she had to and took a great leap of faith.

"Don't get me wrong, love," he said, deciding that it was his duty to straighten her out on a pirate's way of thinking. Jack's head bowed, his murky, decisive eyes squinted, and he almost bounced in place as he said, "I admire a person who is willing to do whatever is necessary." He smiled and saw his expression mirrored. Perfect and beautiful was how she looked in that dashing moonlight. If it was any other girl, he might've teasingly invited her to the captain's quarters, but alas, it wasn't his ship and Elizabeth wasn't an ordinary woman.

"You're a smart man, Jack." His eyes were leveling with her, almost singing their own tune and reminding her of their proximity on the rumrunner's island. Mr. Sparrow was a good, intelligent man but never would she share every secret with him or offer anything that could be used to his advantage. She wouldn't fall into any of his tricks like Will did; she wouldn't allow herself to. A voice hissed in the back of her head, But what about in desperation? He would help, just like he is helping with William. Elizabeth knew she had to voice it; she had to tell him exactly what she was thinking.

With that venomous tongue Elizabeth said, "But I don't entirely trust you."

And I with you, Jack thought. With his arms relaxed at his sides, bearing no emotion or swagger, Jack walked toward the lady; he was close enough to absorb her sweet scent of soap and a strange perfume. He leaned into her delicate countenance, considering touching her face before waving his index finger between them.

"Peas in a pod, darling."

Her eyes corralled into one corner as her head tilted, feeling his breath, for once untainted and without a dash of rum or reeking of horrible scent, and they were suspended in that moment. Simply gazing at one another. He looked like an oracle with his swift half-smile that made his gold teeth glimmer. She wanted to pull back and simultaneously wanted to discover what he meant. He didn't trust her and she didn't trust him, but there was more to it. She could see by the way he stared at her, waiting for the next inquiry or a harsh retort. Just waiting.

She then flinched and stared back down at the cold, hard railing when James strode toward the pair, her eyes almost fluttering closing. What was she doing? What was she waiting for in those moments? Elizabeth had no idea, except that that her heart was pounding furiously and her mind was lurching with the realization that she had forgotten Will for a split second. All she could think about was what Jack meant to say through those five words. It was like hearing "I love you" for the first time when it was entirely unexpected. Was there something more to the story? Had she given him bait somehow? She glanced out of the corner of her brown eyes and noticed Jack's arms flailing wildly as he swiveled around and swayed from side to side. Wasn't he steady a moment ago? Did he not walk toward her without a hint of swagger? Elizabeth finally looked back up innocently and smiled slightly at her fiancé. The word stung.

James clipped Jack's mysterious compass shut and then tossed it to the pirate, who caught the contraption with ease before lashing it back on his belt. James arms instinctively crossed behind him, much like Jack's stance a while ago, and his eyes scanned Elizabeth's figure.

"Trousers?" he asked inquisitively.

"Scandalous, isn't it?" Jack replied with a chuckle, arching both eyebrows in Elizabeth's direction. Her own furrowed in frustration, shaken by the encounter.

The trio lingered, silence between them except for the creaking of the giant vessel, and then Norrington smugly nodded to Elizabeth and ordered, "With me, Sparrow."

Jack turned back to Elizabeth, his arms dangling limply as he smirked, and then he sauntered forward, almost trotting toward the helm. Comically, James rushed after the man, realizing Thomas, who was easily swayed by anyone, was the helmsman at the moment.

"No!"

Elizabeth heard James mutter under his breath, along with a fervid curse, and the woman nearly sputtered with laughter as James raced after Jack's slithering movements, his arms flapping like a fish out of water and a smile breaking across his face. She had never heard James Norrington utter a curse, let alone one so cutting, and it made her laugh that it was Jack Sparrow that had riled him up. She was certain the pirate had no intention of altering course: Jack merely wanted to steer, as he always did. She sighed deeply, forgetting those curious thoughts about Jack as her single folly, and then gripped the railing once again, watching as the deck of the Dauntless was swathed in white and its lofty masts protruded like ghostly sprigs, the sails acting as its leaves. She turned back toward the sea and then squinted as a giant mass of rocky points came into view: Isla de Muerta was before her.