Warnings: none


The hold was immaculate. Every canister, crate, and keg was stacked up in neat rows along the hull. There was ample floor room where there had previously been none at all. Tucked under the ladder to the brig, the kegs of gunpowder were corralled with a length of rope, and surrounded on three sides by giant water barrels. The bottles of rum were positioned on a shelving unit, the dusty, empty bottles previously there having since been removed.

Several lanterns hung from the ceiling, seemingly shining more brightly than ever, illuminating the formerly dark, cluttered space. She strained her eyes to get a clearer look and noticed that even the glass panes of the lantern had been wiped clean.

Jack was shocked. He had just been in the hold three days ago, and it was a disaster then, as Elizabeth had said. Who had taken the initiative to organize it?

Elizabeth held her breath as she scanned the hold. No sign of Beckett anywhere. Surely he hadn't left… but then, where could he be hiding?

The dreadlocked man turned to face her, confusion written all over his face. He opened his mouth to speak.

"Wot did you—"

She saw movement behind Jack, as Beckett appeared behind a stack of crates, seemingly having been bent over before. How could he not have heard them arrive, and stayed hidden for his own sake? Well, maybe he had thought it was Elizabeth arriving alone. Her look of surprise alerted Jack, for he spun around to face the direction immediately. Within moments his gun was aimed at Beckett, who feigned disinterest, casually approaching the pair. Jack cocked the weapon, not saying a word, just narrowing his eyes suspiciously at Beckett. It was Beckett who spoke first, slapping his hands together to brush off what dust and dirt had accumulated on them.

"So, was the job done to your liking?" he said, looking to Elizabeth, who was now standing beside Jack. Jack was rendered confused, and glanced over at Elizabeth, his aiming hand wavering from its position.

"Yes," she said. "I daresay I am shocked."

Jack looked over at her again, utterly lost.

"Are you tellin' me you let him wander th' ship?"

She shook her head. "He's been down here all day. I don't see why everyone on the ship shouldn't make themselves of use."

Beckett continued to approach the pair, and Jack's gun returned to a position roughly aimed at Beckett's chest.

"But wot if he poisoned the rum?" Jack murmured nervously to Elizabeth. Beckett overheard him.

"Rum is a poison, in and of itself," Beckett commented haughtily. "You have nothing of any real value down here, save for your gunpowder, which is in alarmingly short stock." He stood face-to-face with Jack. "And you've not a single drop of brandy."

Jack looked offended.

"Only men who cannot hold their drink would say such a thing about rum," he commented, his head held high, as he lowered his gun to his side. Beckett rolled his eyes, but said nothing. Jack then noticed Beckett's lack of powdered wig.

"An' wot became o' your—" he touched his own braided hair for emphasis.

"It was no longer of use," was Beckett's simple reply. He had expected a comment sooner or later from Jack.

Elizabeth moved past the two men, over to the rum now shelved neatly. She pulled out three bottles full of the substance and walked back over to Jack, as he continued to eye up Beckett's new look.

She thrust the bottles at Jack and turned again to face Beckett.

"So I take it that you've finished?" she asked him.

"All that is left is the disposal of some useless cargo," he said, indicating a crate full of odds and ends. Jack strode over to it, squatting down beside the crate as he tucked his gun back in the holster.

He held up a shiny, odd-shaped object, looking concerned. "Oh, this looks like my—" he looked at the item, trying to remember. "—it's my… " Another long pause, as he stared at it, transfixed. "Oh, bugger," he scoffed, after failing to identify the item. He threw the item back in the crate.

Several sand-filled bottles had been placed in the crate, as well as some sea items such as stony crab carapaces, rotten bits of Kraken flesh, turtle shells, and fish spines. Jack unfortunately was not able to redeem any of the items that Beckett found expendable, much to his own dismay.

Elizabeth spoke to Beckett quietly while Jack dug through the crate.

"I will fetch you some food and drink, because you must be quite hungry by this point," she said. "You've quite surprised me, I must say."

"I do suppose time passes more quickly when one's mind is occupied," he said, a little smirk on his face. "However, I fail to surmise how this ship can operate with any efficiency whatsoever, what with the utter chaos of the hold."

"Well, that's not so much of a problem anymore," she replied, looking about the neat hold.

Jack returned to her side.

"Now that you're finished, I think it's high time you return to the brig," he said to Beckett. He looked over at Elizabeth. "That is, unless Lizzie has other plans." The look he flashed her was suggestive. She scowled at him in return, disconcerted by his remark.

"Jack's right," she said, turning to Beckett again. "I'll bring you your dinner there," she continued.

Beckett let out a sigh of exasperation, knowing he wasn't going to win this one. He rolled his eyes.

"God, I hate that bloody place," he muttered to no one in particular. It would still be a while until he'd be given more priveliges.

Jack stepped out of Beckett's way to the ladder, putting his hand on his pistol.

"After you," he said, bowing mockingly for the disgraced lord to pass. Jack briefly considered tripping his enemy, but decided against it just in time.

Beckett flashed him a look of contempt, and headed up the ladder, Jack and Elizabeth following closely behind.

Once the group had reached the brig, Jack opened the cell door and Beckett stepped in without a fight, but rather with head held proudly. His concentrations were diverted elsewhere as Jack closed the door.

"I'm rather impressed at this new side o' you," Jack told the captive. "Obedient, useful… all very positive qualities indeed." His tone could not have been more degrading.

Using all the willpower he had, Beckett bit his tongue. How he would love to just lay into his enemy, to call him all the nastiest and most spiteful names! But he would have to earn his right for privileges, and that would not come by being difficult. Besides, Elizabeth was watching.

Jack pulled Elizabeth away from the grating, out of earshot of Beckett.

"I guess one night o' sleepin' wiv you really changes a man for th' better," he told her, flashing her a sly grin. "An' I have plenty o' room for improvement."

She slapped his arm playfully.

"It's nothing like that," she said. "I think that he's finally realizing how he should act to win our favour."

"Wotever ye say, luv." Jack winked at her and headed back up the ladder. She counted to ten silently in her head and followed him in order to get some food for Beckett.


Several minutes later Elizabeth was back in the brig with a large amount of salted pork, an orange, and a mug of water.

He approached the grating, his face expressionless, as she came to the cell with the food. As she handed him each food item through the grating, she touched the tip of his fingers with her own. It was unnerving to practically be shaking the hand of this hated man.

After handing him the food, she turned around without a word, and put her hand onto the railing of the ladder. He's probably going to start arguing about the cabin and the whole living arrangement thing as soon as I start to ascend the stairs, she mused. I may as well try to leave before he says anything about that.

She took the first step up, more hesitantly than she had intended to, and heard an outtake of breath coming from behind her indicative of Beckett preparing to speak. Instantly she steeled herself for the deluge of questions… or perhaps, a snide comment.

"Thank you."

She froze for a split second, and then craned her neck to look back at Beckett, who was standing by the grating, food and drink in hand, giving her a sort of soft smile. Did he actually thank me just now? And is he smiling?

"You're welcome," she replied curtly, her own voice sounding foreign to her. She turned back to face the stairs and hastily left the brig without another word.


Upon reaching the main deck she saw Barbossa leaning against the gunwale, peering at the landmass they were approaching. The orangey sun was low in the sky, already sinking below the horizon of the water. They would be reaching Curaçao very soon. Now she understood why Jack wanted Beckett back in the brig.

She stood next to Barbossa, trying to pick out details of the landmass. Curaçao had a good dotting of green and brown, that she could see. It seemed to be encased in a kind of foggy mist that rendered it quite fuzzy.

"I take it the pris'ner didn' cause any trouble in th' hold," Barbossa said to her, still looking through the telescope.

"Quite the contrary. The hold has never been neater," she said.

"That be makin' quite a statement," he replied. "Fer o'er a decade, when I be the cap'n o' the Pearl, 'twas only items o' weaponry in th' hold."

She corrected her statement.

"Well, it's as neat as I've ever seen it."

"Aye, mos' likely so. I'll hafta take a look sometime. I'd have t' see it with me own eyes t' believe that arrogant cur be doin' somethin' good. Where be Beckett now?"

"He's back in the brig."

"Good, 'cause we're makin' port at dark." He pointed at the steadily sinking sun. "Which shan't be long now."

"I've never been here before," she told him.

"Aye, ye'll be surprised at th' sheer size o' it. A pirate paradise, it be."

"Do you think the East India Trading Company will be waiting for us there?" she asked him, wondering how he'd respond.

"Aye, spies'll be crawlin' all o'er the place," he said, nodding. "But we be usin' the Pearl's colour to our advantage at night, so's to alert less o' 'em."

"Who all's going ashore this time?" she said expectantly. She was hoping that she could get her fill of this new place.

"Me, Jack, couple o' the crew t' carry the supplies, an' I think ye as well. Jack also specifically requested Masters Pintel an' Ragetti be goin' ashore."

"And what of Mr. Gibbs?" she asked.

"He be stayin' aboar' the Pearl this time."

"I see." So it would be Jack that would be showing her around. She regretted having to miss Gibbs' snippets of adventures from his seasoned travels around the world, but at least she would be setting foot on land again.


At nightfall the Black Pearl made berth in Curaçao, her lanterns all extinguished, rendering her as dark as the night itself. Without an anchor, staying put for extended periods of time would be more difficult, but that would be solved for the time being by fastening the mooring line to the dock.

Jack had removed his tri-cornered hat so as to arouse less suspicion. Elizabeth could only laugh at the thought that Jack expected not to make a spectacle of himself simply because he was not wearing his hat.

Dozens upon dozens of ships were docked in the port, their masts like a forest of naked trees along the seashore. The din of hagglers and merchants could be heard as Elizabeth stepped onto the dock, aided by Jack, who had been the first to step from the ship. Barbossa, Pintel, Ragetti, Cotton, Murtogg, Mullroy, and Marty followed closely behind, first ensuring that the ship was moored to the dock properly.

Barbossa looked at Jack. "I'll be surveyin' the ships o' th' port fer a new anchor, as well as recruitin' some new crewmates. What o' ye two?"

"Well, Mrs. Turner an' I will be on th' search for more diverse food supplies. You know, fruit, corn, fresh meat an' fish, an' maybe e'en sea turtle."

Ragetti's jaw dropped, the unfortunate fate of his pet Torty finally evident to him.

Jack turned to the group. "Pintel, you an' Ragetti fetch us some more cannonballs an' gunpowder. An' rum." He turned to Murtogg and Mullroy, not remembering their names. "You two… people… pick up cannonballs as well. Rather heavy they are for two men alone. Also rum. An' fetch a good length o' rope."

Both men looked at each other nervously and gulped at the prospect that the rope was for their necks. However, Jack didn't give any indication of this being the case. Relieved, the two new pirates saluted him with a crisp "Aye aye, Cap'n." Jack looked flattered and taken aback but continued with his task list.

"Cotton, ye'll be in charge o' gettin' some dark – black, if ye will – cloth for th' sails. An' Marty… grab us some new clothin', as well as some rum."

Elizabeth flashed Jack a dark look. He flashed her a toothy smile before replying.

"One can ne'er have enough o' that, luv."


Thanks to my reviewers! Hope you enjoyed this longer chapter! Any questions, opinions, comments, suggestions?