Disclaimer: It's mine. I stole it. Pirate, you know.

Welcome back to Tavia's realm of madness. We're closing in on the end, I admit…but we're not quite there yet! Yes, more strange and interesting adventures in store, and I promise you a climax to come that will outstrip all that came before in randomness…but that's coming. For right now, we have chapter quotes to address.

Quotes, um…no one guessed? Well…I'll tell you anyway! They're fairly obscure, I admit. Chapter 19: "Because you asked me to," Edward Scissorhands. Chapter 20: "Always better to run and live than fight and die," The Man Who Cried. Second one is extremely obscure, I've heard that's his least-scene movie in the U.S. Another quote in this one, I promise it's far less obscure! Really!

Yeah, just read on…

Chapter the Twenty-First

"Seems to me we've still got an unspecified number of problems," Jack announced. He, Will, Elizabeth, Gibbs, Anamaria, Rodney and the few other pirates putting in an appearance in the last chapter were sitting near—but not actually within—the cornfield. For the moment, all was quiet, without a single soldier or random element in sight, and thus it was a good time to look over the situation. "Which is an improvement actually," Jack went on, "since we used to have an unspecified number o' problems plus one."

"Jack, you're not making sense," Elizabeth observed, as though this was a new condition.

"Our problems are the two curly wigs—"

"What?" Elizabeth interrupted confusedly.

"Norrie and Gillette," Jack clarified. "The two o' them, plus the unspecified number o' soldiers that are all running 'round here. We used to have all those problems, plus the problem o' getting out o' the cornfield. Well, now we're out an' all we've got to do is get back to the Pearl an' sail away, but we've got an unspecified number of soldiers in our way. So we've got an unspecified number of problems."

"Wait a minute, Jack," Will said slowly, "didn't you originally go into the cornfield to escape Norrington and his unspecified number of soldiers? You jumped out our window and all you really needed to do from there was go back to the Pearl but the soldiers were in the way so you went into the cornfield instead."

Jack thought back. "Yeah. Pretty much that's how it happened. So what?"

"So twenty chapters later we're in the exact same spot we were then! Trying to get you back to the Pearl despite the soldiers in the way. A hundred and seventy-five pages, and the plot hasn't advanced at all!"

"That's because there isn't a plot," Jack reminded him. "Now, question is, what's our next plan for getting' round the Navy?"

"Why don't you tell us, Jack, you always have the plans," Elizabeth said dryly.

"Because I'm Captain Jack Sparrow. An' it so happens, I do have a plan," Jack admitted.

"Tell us about it, cap'n," Gibbs prompted.

"Multiply an' conquer," Jack said promptly, then frowned. "Wait…that ain't right, is it?"

Will stared at him. "Considering I have no idea what you're talking about…"

"Divide!" Jack said suddenly. "I meant divide and conquer!"

"I still don't know what that has to do with anything."

"We're gonna split up, see? Gibbs, Ana, all other pirates, you go round up the rest o' the crew that's wanderin' 'round here. Time we got 'em all together in case we need to actually fight the soldiers. Elizabeth, you ought to go find Norrington an' try an' talk some sense into him so maybe we won't need to fight it out. After all, I ain't here to break any laws—not today anyway—I'll just go peaceably if he'd let me."

"He's not going to like that idea," Elizabeth informed Jack.

"Yeah, I know, but if he'd listen to any of us he'd probably listen to you. So while you do that, I'll try an' sneak out past the soldiers an' get back to the Pearl. 'cause if I can get back to the ship we won't have a problem. Norrington knows I'm a pirate but he hasn't got any proof anyone else is."

Will looked at him doubtfully. "He won't be just a little suspicious of a lot of people with swords wandering around a cornfield in the middle of the night?"

Jack grinned. "Sure he'll be suspicious, but he's a law-abiding citizen of 'is Majesty, Norrie can't go arresting people without any proof they're pirates."

Will had to admit he had a point there.

"Suppose you do get back to the ship, Jack," Anamaria said, "how do we know that if we're wandering around the cornfield?"

That briefly stumped Jack. He soon found the answer though, because he's Captain Jack Sparrow. "I'll send Rodney an' he can tell ye," he said, indicating the squirrel still perched on his hat. "That okay with you, Rodney?"

"Chatter chatter," Rodney agreed.

"Say, that's perfect," Jack said enthusiastically. "An' I can also send Rodney if I get into trouble an' need reinforcements."

Not altogether surprisingly it was Will who pointed out the flaw in that idea. "Wait a minute, Jack, you'll send Rodney if you're back to the Pearl, and you send Rodney if you're in trouble?"

"Right, weren't you listening?"

"Jack, you're the only one who understands Rodney, how will we know which it is?"

"Well it's really very simple to understand 'im," Jack said matter-of-factly. "Look, we'll just go over the relevant vocabulary. Rodney, say 'Jack's back on the Pearl an' he's fine.'"

"Chatter chatter chatter."

"An' now say, 'Jack's in trouble, do something about it.'"

"Chatter chatter chatter."

"Ye see the difference?" Jack asked Will.

Will looked at him blankly. "No."

"Oh." Jack considered. "Tell ye what, Rodney, two chatters means everything's alright, three chatters means trouble. Ye got that, everyone?"

Everyone got it.

Just a few more objections to sort out. "So what if the squirrel never shows up?" Anamaria asked. "What do we do then?"

"Oh. Well…" Jack considered. "I s'pose that would mean we're all still wandering around here. So how about we plan on meeting up at dawn, if nothing cataclysmic an' life-altering happens between now an' then?"

There was a slight flaw in that idea. Namely that they'd never yet been able to deliberately find anyone at any time. Which Elizabeth pointed out, quite reasonably.

"No, no, I've got a plan for that," Jack said confidently. "We're meeting at dawn, right? So we meet at the western side o' the cornfield. Everybody just aim for the rising sun, what could go wrong with that?"

There was a moment's silence. "Only that the sun rises in the east," Elizabeth said finally.

"I knew that," Jack said hastily. "I meant, head away from the sun, that's just as easy. If everybody goes to the same part o' fields near the cornfield at dawn, we're sure to find each other."

One last question from Anamaria. "That's fine at dawn, but suppose something cataclysmic and life-altering does happen before then? How do we find each other if we need to?"

Will had an answer for that. "This cornfield really isn't that big, even if we have spent a ridiculous amount of time wandering in it. If one of us sends up a shout, the others will probably hear it."

And Gibbs had an objection to that. "How will we know it isn't Norrington shouting?"

"That's what I said," Jack said at once, "when he suggested this weird idea about shouting a few chapters ago."

"What we need is a code," Gibbs speculated. "Maybe a snatch of song."

"That's the other thing I said!" Jack turned a very smug look on Will. "See?"

Will refused to concede anything. "He's a member of your crew, Jack, of course he thinks the way you do. Insanely."

"Well sure, that's why I hired 'em all, 'cause they're all completely mad."

"So if we need each other before dawn, we'll send up a song," Gibbs concluded.

"Something nice an' piratey," Jack put in. "Norrington'd never sing anything piratey, I think it'd kill him."

Will blinked. "Piratey, Jack?"

"Let's see you make 'pirate' an adjective," Jack countered.

"Piratical," Will said coolly.

"Now yer just showin' off," Jack informed him, then turned back to the rest of the group. "So everybody clear on what they're doin'?"

He had to turn back to Will almost at once anyway. "I'm not," Will objected. "You haven't mentioned me yet."

"Yer with me, didn't I say that? Figure I've got better odds finding a way past the Navy if you come with me," Jack explained.

This almost sounded like a compliment. It would be practically the first in a very long night, and so Will was naturally suspicious that it really was one. "Is that so?"

"Absolutely. 'cause you know what they say…" Jack grinned. "Where there's a Will there's a way."

Will didn't groan, but it was a narrow thing.

By now everyone was getting to their feet, ready to set off. "Any last orders, cap'n?" Gibbs asked.

Jack considered. "Stay out o' the cornfield, whatever ye do. If ye get a chance to take out the Navy, go for it but don't be foolish. An' fire at will."

Gibbs frowned. "Well…if you say so, cap'n." Then he raised his pistol and aimed at Mr. Turner.

Jack hastily jumped in front of Will, arms out in a shielding pose. "No, I didn't mean fire at Will, I meant fire at…uh…" He trailed off. "Never mind. Just…if ye see the Navy, fire if ye want to."

Gibbs shrugged. "Sure, cap'n, but why didn't ye just say that to begin with?"

Jack's head drooped. "…I don't know."

"Well, why don't we just all get going before we get any more confused, hmm?" Will suggested rather pointedly.

Which really wasn't a bad suggestion at all. Farewells were said, well-wishes given, and they began to disperse.

"Oh! One more thing!" Jack called after his departing crew and friends. "Don't panic!"

They looked at each other somewhat confusedly. "About what?" Elizabeth asked.

Jack shrugged. "Anything. Everything. It's just a nice, friendly piece of advice. Always relevant, always helpful—"

"Time to go, Jack," Will interrupted.

"—they could put it on the cover of a book in big friendly letters, it would make everyone feel much better about the world—"

Will took hold of Jack's arm, and firmly pulled him in their chosen direction.

Jack waved with his free hand. "So long! Be seeing you!"

And everyone scattered into the night.

Elsewhere in the cornfield, other conversations were being carried out.

"Maybe a giant tumbleweed flattened Sparrow too."

It was a very long moment before Norrington answered. "Lieutenant Gillette," he said slowly.

"Yes, sir?"

"Never, ever, mention tumbleweeds in my presence again. Consider that an order."

"Uh…yes, sir."

Silence descended back onto the crowd of Navy soldiers walking in a clump along the cornstalks. For a few moments, anyway.

"You know what the Monty Python boys say?" Gillette ventured.

Norrington glared at him. "No one expects the Spanish Inquisition," he snapped.

"Actually, I was thinking of 'always look on the bright side of life.'"

Norrington went on glaring. "Do you have a point?"

"Just, you know, that maybe we should be focusing on the positive right now. I mean, yes, we're out in the middle of a cornfield in the middle of the night chasing an insane pirate, who we don't seem to be getting anywhere near catching, and yes, we've been out here for hours now and unfortunate things keep happening along the way, but we should still be looking on the bright side."

The glare went on. "What could possibly be the bright side right now?"

"Well…" Gillette shrugged. "Things can't get any worse."

That's when the rain began.

Norrington was silent. The glare said it all.

Gillette smiled weakly. "All right…now it can't get any worse."

That's when the lightning started.

"Lieutenant, do you want to be an ensign?" Norrington asked, water beginning to pool on his curls.

"Now wait, Commodore, sir, you can't blame me for the weather," Gillette protested. "I mean, if it's going to rain on an entire cornfield, you can't say that's my fault."

Much as he hated to admit it, even to himself, Norrington had to acknowledge that Gillette really couldn't be blamed for the weather. If clouds were going to gather in the sky and rain over the entire area, that certainly wasn't something the Lieutenant had control over. It was around there in his thoughts that Norrington realized something. It was a clear night. There were no clouds. Except for right over them.

"It's not raining over the entire cornfield," Norrington said, somewhat dazedly. "It's only raining…right here."

"See? See? Bright side!" Gillette said triumphantly. "If it's not raining everywhere, we can walk away from the rain!"

This was almost reasonable. So the wet Navy picked up their trudging pace and walked a little faster. The rain—and the lightning—continued.

"Uh, Commodore?" Gillette said tentatively, after several minutes of futile attempts to outrun the rain. "It seems to be following us."

"Wonderful," Norrington muttered. "Just wonderful."

"But I do have some good news!" Gillette said brightly.

"You've thought of a brilliant plan to catch Sparrow within the next five minutes so we can all get out of here?"

"Uh…no. But I did save a bunch of money on car insurance by switching to Geico!"

Norrington stared at his second-in-command for a long, long moment. "Lieutenant," he said tightly.

"Yes, sir?"

Norrington pointed at random. "Walk that way."

Gillette frowned. "Are you sure it's wise to split our forces at this time?"

"Are you sure it's wise to be hit over the head by a very heavy pistol?"

Gillette swallowed. "I'll, uh, walk that way."

"Good man."

So Gillette walked off in a random direction. If Norrington had been hoping the clouds would follow the lieutenant, he was disappointed. So the commodore and his unspecified number of soldiers marched off in the rain.

Meanwhile, Jack and Will were wandering. Which they'd been doing a lot of. But at least this time they were wandering next to the cornfield, instead of within it. The fact still remained though, that they'd spent a lot of time wandering around together this particular night.

"Y'know, all this time we've spent wand'rin' 'round together this particular night, kinda funny we haven't run outta things to talk about," Jack commented.

"Well, we haven't yet," Will said, focus not on the conversation but on the walking.

"Think we might some time?"

"I don't know, Jack."

Jack was silent for a moment. Only a moment though. "Y'know…if we ever did run out of things to talk about…we could always tell jokes to pass the time."

That finally got Will to look at him. "Jokes, Jack?"

"Sure!" Jack said enthusiastically. "Have ye ever heard the one about the whale that was falling through the sky along with a bowl of petunias that was thinking—"

"Jack," Will interrupted. "What is it with you and petunias?"

"What's wrong with petunias?" Jack demanded indignantly. "Why does it bother you if I happen to like petunias?"

Will stared at him a moment. "Bet you're—no! No, I don't!" he said hastily, throwing up his hands in a warding gesture, mindful of crazed fangirls and popcorn. "I take it back, I didn't mean it, I don't think you're anything!"

Jack frowned, looking troubled. "You do think I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, right?" he asked hopefully.

Will blinked. "Well, yes, of course."

Jack exhaled, looking relieved. "Oh good, 'cause if you didn't think I was Captain Jack Sparrow I would've had to have a serious identity crisis. An' that would've been sad, 'cause I like being Captain Jack Sparrow, y'know."

Will grinned and shook his head. "You're weird, Jack."

"Daft, mate. The word's daft."

"That too," Will agreed.

They wandered on, and after a moment Jack asked, "So do you want to know what the bowl of petunias was thinking as it fell?"

Will shrugged. "All right, tell me. What were the petunias thinking?"

"Oh no, not again."

Will shook his head. "Daft, Jack."

"Nothing wrong with that," Jack said cheerfully. "Makes life more fun."

"Fun. If you tell me you've actually enjoyed this incredibly strange ramble through an incredibly strange cornfield…"

"Well it hasn't been all bad."

"No, of course not," Will said sarcastically. "There's only been carnivorous mattresses, and killer salad bowls, and insane knights who say very odd words—"

"You mean ecky-ecky-ecky-patong-whoop-pong-oui?"

Will stopped walking. "Yes," he said carefully. "That."

"Don't know why that bothers you, it's really very fun to say ecky-ecky—"

"Moving on," Will snapped, and resumed his walking and his listing of disasters. "And there was the evil cornstalk of death, and the giant octopus, and—"

"Yes, yes, yes, but it hasn't been all bad. There were the squishy bears, those were fun. And I found Hector, and met Rodney," Jack said with a gesture towards his hat.

"Chatter," Rodney put in, comfortably crouched on top of Jack's tricorn.

"Right you are," Jack agreed. "Plus, there's been all kinds of terrible things happening to Norrington, that's been fun."

"Jack, that's horrible."

Jack just looked at him. "Like you didn't enjoy the harpoon hitting 'im."

Will hedged. "Well…"

"See? So there's the good and the bad. There's really fun squirrels, and there's a Navy officer emerging from those cornstalks up ahead. Hit the deck!"

Without further warning Jack crashed into Will and they both went down. A bullet whizzed by overhead, hitting nothing. Will was flat on his back, Jack was crouched over him, with his pistol in hand, and Rodney was picking himself up and chattering irritably to himself. The bullet was aimed a good deal higher than any of them. In fact, they were all close enough to the ground at this point that the tall grass of the field hid them from sight, and the soldier didn't bother firing again. Silence descended. Briefly.

"Jack."

"Yeah?"

"Your knee is on my chest."

"Oh. Sorry." Jack started to get up. But then he stepped on a fatally placed corncob. Jack slipped, lost his balance, tripped over Will, and, arms pinwheeling wildly, fell over Will's legs.

"I can't say this is much of an improvement," Will commented dryly.

Jack had other issues. "Wow…where'd everybody go? Will? What happened to the cornstalks? Where'd everybody go? Everything's gone dark!"

"Jack, nothing's gone anywhere."

"I've gone blind! This is terrible! Whoever heard of a blind pirate? One-eyed, sure, but not blind!"

"Jack, you're not blind," Will said patiently. "Your hat slipped over your eyes."

"Oh. Oh yeah. Thanks." Jack reached up to adjust his hat. He gave the brim a yank. Then another one. He tried to get a hold with his other hand too, but that hand was still holding his pistol. A few more frantic yanks had no effect.

"Jack…"

"It's stuck," Jack explained, yanking a few more times.

"I can see that."

"I wish I could." More yanks, no results.

"Jack, how hard can it be—"

"The gun's kinda gettin' in me way," Jack said trying again to get a two-handed grip on his hat brim, while holding his pistol. He was a hand short.

Will sighed. "Here, give me the pistol." He reached a hand up in the general direction of Jack's head.

"No, nobody touches my pistol," Jack said firmly, a statement accompanied by another yank.

Will shrugged, something that was easier to do from flat on his back than you might think. He was still on his back because Jack was half-sprawled over his lower legs, and, distracted by his hat, hadn't bothered to move yet. "All right, let me get your hat off then."

"No, nobody touches my hat either."

"Jack, this is ridiculous."

"Only kinda," Jack said with another yank.

It was about then that Will saw something through the waving grass around them. "No, this is completely ridiculous because that soldier is coming towards us right now!"

Jack froze. "How'd he find us?"

"Gee, do you think maybe he's following our voices?" Will asked sarcastically.

"That's a thought," Jack acknowledged.

"Here's another thought. You're holding a pistol, use it! Or better yet, give it to me since I can actually see!"

"No, nobody touches my pistol," Jack repeated, waving it about as though he expected to happen upon the right direction by accident and without the benefit of eyesight.

"Jack, fire right!"

"Okay, which direction?"

There was a pause. "Right."

"Oh. Oh, right, you meant 'fire right,' I thought you meant 'fire, right?' So things got a little confus—"

"Jack, fire!"

"Firing!" Jack leveled his gun towards his right, and fired out across the cornfield. As the crack of the shot faded, there was silence. Briefly. "Wait. Your right, or my right?"

"My right," Will said flatly.

Jack considered. "Oops."

"Yeah, I'd say so."

"Alright, there's got to be some—"

"Jack, straight!"

Somewhere under his hat, Jack's eyebrows shot upwards. "Yes, definitely!"

"No, I meant fire straight!"

"I can't."

"What do you mean you can't?"

"I can't. I only had one shot."

Will stared straight up at the sky. "Why did you only have one shot, Jack?"

Jack shrugged. "Well, y'know, for ten years I walked around with one pistol, one shot, no additional powder. An' it worked. So I figure, why waste money on extra bullets?"

"Jack…Barbossa is dead, you're a successful pirate captain, buy an extra bullet!"

"Do you have a graph or pie chart to confirm that it's to my financial advantage to spend money on an extra bullet?"

"No…but I have a soldier standing over me right now. Good enough reason?"

"Yeah, that'll do." Hat still jammed over his eyes, Jack turned his head in what he could only hope was the right direction. "Pleased to meet ye."

"Hello, Mister Sparrow. Consider yourself under the arrest of the Royal British Navy."

Jack raised his gun. "Captain. And I've got ye covered."

"With an empty gun. I'm not deaf."

"I lied. It's loaded."

The soldier sounded skeptical. "You lied."

"Oh yes," Jack assured him, "right through my shiny gold teeth. Pirate, you know."

"Jack," Will said quietly.

"Yeah?"

"You're aiming in the wrong direction."

"Oh. Um…"

"Drop your weapon at once, Mr. Sparrow, or suffer the consequences."

Jack didn't move. "He's pointing a gun at me, isn't he?"

"Yes," Will confirmed.

"A loaded gun?"

"I would assume so."

"Right then," Jack concluded, and carefully put his pistol down.

Hands free, Jack could finally get a good grasp on his hat. He gave one mighty tug, and, finally, achieved the desired goal. He carefully set his hat back on the top of his head where it belonged. Then he took his first look at the solder.

Jack's face crumpled. "Oh no, not you. It's bad enough to be arrested by Norrington, but to be arrested by his flunky, who's actually got more curls…humiliating, I tell ye."

Lieutenant Gillette was considerably insulted.

o/o/o/o/o/o/o

Around now the author decided she would really like to respond to reviews, but since FF is somewhat disapproving she chose to…continue the chapter instead.

Upon which Jack decided to tell Alania that the chapter is of course always random, and that the author was very much hoping that Qui-Gon would appear at the end of Revenge of the Sith, and thus her need to explain why he didn't.

Next he—Jack, you know, because this is totally still the story—needed to thank Kute Anime Kitty for the kind review and explain that the appearing and disappearing crossovers are really fun for the author to write.

Jack thoroughly agrees with ChaosLightning13 that Anamaria only pretends to be immune, and still insists that a computer-generated sword is not nearly as cool as a real one. But that's Jack's opinion, remember, and the author is somewhat of mixed feelings. Regarding Mel Gibson (Passion of the Christ), Jack suspects you meant Mel Brooks (Robin Hood) but wants you not to worry about that because the author gets them mixed up often. But she's really not either one. And she's not Douglas Adams either. We're sorry. Jack is of course all in favor of drinking rum, but the author has completely sworn off alcohol as a very bad plan when one is underage and living in the dorms. And yes, she realizes that is not the normal college student belief. She has no desire to be normal. The story should be evidence of that.

Jack also notes, for the benefit of Spaceman Spiff, that "fine feathered friend" is a great phrase.

Jack next salutes Saharan Sparrow on a great last name, and promises to poke the author about updating.

Jack then explains to Feline Freak that yes, responding to reviews is forbidden, which is why we're completely not doing that. Because we are law-abiding citizens of His Majesty. We swear.

Jack enjoys his rants as much as Secrett Window, and wants to know how anything with him in it could possibly be boring or stupid? The author is slightly more modest, and appreciates the compliment.

Jack is a little confused by insurreality though. Is that "Jack/Will fangirls" as in fans of both, or fans of them being romantically paired? Because the author has developed a new appreciation for Orlando after Elizabethtown, though she remains firmly a Jack fangirl, never a Will fangirl. As for romantic pairing, she has never written slash and never will. Enjoy the story, but slash will have to be found elsewhere.

Jack is completely floored by stickbug, who reviewed 18 times at one go. The dedication, especially for a lot of chapters from far back when, is hugely impressive. Well done! The author adores the Marx Bros., says "bloody brilliant" all the time though she's not British either, appreciates the difficulties of swallowing laughter while in computer class, congratulates you on guessing many past quotes (especially "this is how it happens to people," even recognizing that as some quote is remarkable since that was a really random line), and hopes you find many random people as your life goes on!

And then Jack bid everyone good-night. Wishing you fair winds and a traveling sea (or whatever that phrase is) until next chapter.