FOR YOUR EYES ONLY

37—Isla de Muerta

DISCLAIMER: Jack'n'Lizzie etc. do not belong to me. I make no money from the writing of this fan-fiction.

DEDICATION: For my dad, Greg, who has always been so supportive and encouraging. Happy Father's Day!

A/N: Thanks for the reviews! They are very much appreciated.

I borrowed an idea from Friends (the greatest show ever) for this chapter, from when Ross and Emily got engaged. Not important to the story or anything… just wanted to make a note of it for anyone who might've noticed.

Thanks again for the continued support! Enjoy the chapter!

Elizabeth sat on the bunk's edge, buttoning up her blouse and watching Jack across the cabin as he gathered up his clothing and effects, putting them back on one by one. He was absolutely mesmerizing, even when doing something as simple as getting dressed. He was hers… and she adored him.

She giggled when he nearly toppled over whilst attempting to put on his remaining boot. He whirled around to face her, the trinkets in his hair clinking together, and narrowed his eyes before his face softened and he smiled at her. In a few long strides, he stood before her before sinking to his knees and wrapping his arms around her waist.

"You been watchin' me?" he asked, an eyebrow cocked inquisitively.

"Yes," she admitted. "Something I'm allowed to do, is it not?"

"Aye," Jack nodded. "The future Missus Capt'n Jack Sparrow is allowed to do whatever she pleases. Except undermine Mister Capt'n Jack Sparrow, that is."

"Oh?" This time it was she who cocked an eyebrow. She was about to go into a hefty speech about how ridiculous the "obey" part of marriage vows was, but decided to let Jack continue thinking he was in control. For now, anyways. "Mrs. Captain Jack Sparrow… that's quite a title."

"It certainly is," he agreed. "An' every pirate worth his or her salt has to have a good title."

"Well, I'm very glad to be inheriting one, then," she told him, kissing his forehead lightly.

Without saying anything, he looked down to his hands and pulled off each ring from his fingers. He took her hand and carefully threaded each one onto her ring finger, cursing when not a single one fit. "Bullocks," he muttered, leaning back and placing his hands on his thighs. "I thought that would be romantic as bloody hell."

"It was," Elizabeth laughed. She scooted off the edge of the bed and knelt in front of him. She wrapped her arms around his neck. "Besides… perhaps it's better that way anyways."

"How do ye figure that, Lizzie?"

"Well, now you get to keep all your marvelous rings for yourself," she said, twirling a finger around one of his dreadlocks, letting it get tighter and tighter until he made a face and she smirked. "And… well… I was thinking that… perhaps it would be best if we kept our engagement a secret. For the time being, until all this business with Jones is settled."

"Aye," he sighed, understanding completely where she was coming from. "Don't want to be givin' anyone anythin' to bargain with, now do we?"

"No," she replied, shaking her head.

"But…" Elizabeth watched him as he looked down at the several rings in his hand. He opened his fist up, displaying them for her. "Which one do ye fancy most, luv?"

She smiled as she admired each one. Each was so distinct yet so uniquely Jack… she knew where he was going with this, or at least partially knew, and didn't feel entirely settled about taking one of his rings… but still. If it pleased him, she would go along with it. Besides, receiving something like this from him meant a great deal and she would not take it lightly.

"This one," she finally said, as if having made an informed decision. Her ring of choice was the one with a skull on each side, a large, round emerald in the middle. She had always loved that one the most, though she couldn't explain why.

"Ah," Jack mused, holding it up and admiring it. "A fine choice. Turn around, then." He instructed. She smirked at him quizzically, but did as she was told. She then felt his fingers weaving their way through her hair and she closed her eyes, enjoying the soothing sensation.

"Where did you acquire it?" she asked as he worked, making a sturdy enough braid in the under-part of her hair, where it would be hidden, but where she would always be able to feel it.

"This magnificent gem happens to be the very first piece of jewelry I ever pilfered," he told her.

"Really?"

"No," Jack chuckled. "It's me father's. He gave it to me when my mother died… to pay for her funeral and whatnot," he explained.

"Oh…" She suddenly felt very guilty at having chosen it and was about to offer it back when he continued.

"But I managed to swipe it back afterwards. When me dad found out he just laughed at me an' told me to keep it." He was quiet for a few moments as he finished his work. "There," he said upon completion, turning her slightly so he could look at her. He smiled. "This ring has never known a finer owner."

"You're a shameless flatterer, Jack Sparrow," she chided.

"An' I promise to remain one until my dyin' day," he vowed, grinning as he crossed an imaginary X over his heart.

"Do we have a heading?" Elizabeth asked, changing the subject.

"I gave one to Gibbs several hours ago after ye fell asleep," Jack told her. "We should be approachin' within another three hours or so. It's less than half a day's travel from where we were."

"Oh?" she inquired. "And where are we headed, then?"

Jack grinned.

The rocky cliffs that compromised much of the Isla de Muerta jutted out from the ocean like the lush mountains of the Isla de Pelegostos. These cliffs, however, instead of being softened by layers of beautiful, green life were barren, cold, and foreboding.

Jack stood at the railing with an easy smirk plastered on his face, Elizabeth at his side. The wind was cold and unwelcoming and she tightened her coat around her slight frame to keep from shivering. Rosalind stood just behind her, close enough that Elizabeth could feel her warm breath on the back of her neck. Her friend had stopped pacing, but she was still unnerved by it all, and Elizabeth couldn't blame her. It was easy for one's senses to overload in such an unfamiliar situation.

"We're going in there?" Rosalind finally asked, breaking the silence as the crew fidgeted around on deck behind them, preparing longboats or whatever else Gibbs had charged them with.

"Aye," Jack nodded. "Not for long, though. Just a quick jaunt."

"You still haven't explained why we're here," Elizabeth reminded him, placing a single pinky over his ringless finger as a silent reminder of their engagement. When she looked at him, he was grinning.

"Yes, well," he continued, clearing his throat. "Ye see, Lizzie, a senseless rumor was started not long ago about the… shall I say… entrapment of Isla de Muerta to ward of the prying fingers of the East India Company and our greedy little friend, and I heartily stress the word 'little,' Cutler Beckett."

Elizabeth laughed. "Am I to assume that the proprietor of this senseless rumor is amongst the three of us?"

Jack shrugged nonchalantly. "Wouldn't be an entirely unfair assumption."

"Yes, well, amusing as you are, dearest Captain," Elizabeth sighed. "You haven't answered my question."

"Well, I have an old… friend… who might just be able to help us with Davy Jones… but she demands payment."

"She?" Elizabeth couldn't help but inquire.

"Now, now, don't get yer knickers in a twist," Jack said, swaying his hand through the air as if swatting at an invisible mosquito. "It hasn't been like that fer years. But yes, she demands payment."

"What kind of payment do you expect to get here?" Rosalind asked, her already large brown eyes even larger as she stared at the waves crashing against the rocks.

"Isla de Muerta is a treasure cash," Elizabeth explained. "While not everyone knows how to find it—"

"It can only be found by those who already know where it is," Jack chimed, a smirk on his face.

Elizabeth glared at him before continuing. "Those who do store most everything they find here."

"Oh," Rosalind said, nodding. "I thought that a pirate would want to spend whatever loot he had on wine, women and song."

"Most do…" Jack told her. "But the smart ones…" He placed one hand on his chest and snaked the other around Elizabeth's waist, pulling her close until their hips touched. "The smart ones stash it away for an easy retirement."

"So it won't be a long trip, then?" Elizabeth asked. "We'll go ashore, fetch a few things of a valuable nature, and leave? Because Will is still counting on us to save him."

Jack sighed and rolled his eyes slightly. "If I had any doubts about the boy's safety, we wouldn't be here right now," he said, releasing his grip on Elizabeth's waist. "An' actually… it might not be so easy."

"Why's that?" Elizabeth asked.

"Well, because, she fancies things of a more unique nature, in a matter o' speakin'."

"So we're looking for something specific?"

"Aye… somethin' quite specific."

The row in made Elizabeth nervous and fidgety. After all, the last time she had been to Isla de Muerta, she was a captive, and she had been almost certain of her impending death. She sat silently as Jack rowed and Rosalind fired off another round of questions about… well, everything. Who specifically was going to help them combat Jones… what specifically they were looking for… how much longer it would be until they reached the main cave… Elizabeth knew it was because she was nervous, but that didn't make the ride any less tedious.

Jack had explained—with a patience that Elizabeth found both endearing and astounding—that once they found what they were looking for, they would make full haste to a bayou about a day and a half's journey away from Isla de Muerta. He told of a priestess he had known who went by the name Tia Dalma, one who had solved more than one problem for him in the past. Elizabeth would have inquired about those problems had Rosalind not beaten her to it.

He had also explained that he expected Barbossa's pet monkey to still be alive inside the cave and that said monkey (of an undead nature) would be just the thing Tia Dalma would accept as payment. Elizabeth was just starting to feel panicky and overwhelmed when the longboat came to a stop. They had arrived.

Just as she remembered it, the cave glistened with gold and silver, glittering with rubies, emeralds, sapphires, pearls and diamonds alike.

"My God," Rosalind uttered in disbelief as she stepped out of the longboat. "I bet the King himself doesn't have a hoard this magnificent…"

"Of course not," Jack confirmed, helping Elizabeth up and gripping her hand tightly as she set foot on the rock, as if sensing her discomfort. "We got to it first," he added with a smirk. "Alright!" he turned and began shouting orders to his crew. "No one touches anythin' until that bloody monkey is found! Anyone who's caught doing so will be left behind!"

Elizabeth inwardly rolled her eyes. She knew Jack would never be so callous as to leave one of his men behind, but that didn't mean he was beyond threatening it.

"And whichever man—" he turned and flashed a grin at Elizabeth and Rosalind "—or woman—finds the beast first gets his or her first pick o' treasure. Off with ye now! Move!"

The crew did as they were told, scattering about in different directions. Right away Elizabeth noticed several of them plucking coins off the floor and sliding them into their pockets, but she kept it to herself. Something else had captured her attention, leaving her with a pit in the bottom of her stomach.

"Jack…" She tugged lightly on his coat before he could go off in search of his flea-ridden namesake. "Where is he?"

"Where's who?" Jack inquired, spinning around to the direction in which Elizabeth's eyes were fixed.

"Elizabeth, darling, perhaps you should sit down…" Rosalind coaxed gently. "You're as white as death…"

"Where's Barossa?" she asked, her voice scarcely above a whisper. "Shouldn't he… I mean… shouldn't his body be…" She couldn't get the words out and so instead, she looked at Jack, whose smirk had faded into a frown and whose eyebrows were knotted together. "Surely he couldn't have decomposed—"

"No," Jack said quietly, shaking his head.

Barbossa was gone. There was no corpse. No bones. Not even the stench of rotting flesh was left behind nor any trace of blood from where Jack had shot him. There wasn't even an indentation in the mound of treasure upon which he had fallen… upon which they had left him.

"What's going on?" Rosalind asked, her eyes darting between Jack and Elizabeth, both who looked like they'd seen a ghost.

"Jack…" Elizabeth tugged on his sleeve again. "Where is he?? He couldn't have gotten up and walked away by himself!"

"It's alright, Lizzie," Jack said, a small smile crossing his face. But Elizabeth could tell by its unease that it was forced. He stepped behind her and placed both hands on her upper arms, rubbing them soothingly. "S'nothing to fret about now. Barbossa is dead and we've more important things to worry about. Like—"

Jack was interrupted when Marty's voice came echoing through the cave. "Capt'n! Capt'n!!" Down a hill of jewels and gold Marty bounded, his finger pointing to his left. Jack's brow again furrowed and he looked in the direction to which the little man was pointing.

Like a flash of lightning, Jack the monkey came hissing and screeching around pillars of gold, knocking chests and statues over as six or so men chased after him, screaming, hooting and hollering like there was no tomorrow.

Elizabeth looked at Jack, who was grinning.

"—like how many pirates it takes to catch a monkey."

A/N: Alright, that's a good, light-hearted place to stop.

I hope I didn't make the beginning to mushy, but I like to explore what Jack might be like behind closed doors, when he's with someone he really trusts and can let his guard down.

Anyways, thanks for reading, now go review! See you next time!