A/N: Holy cheese-whiz... Thanks for all the reviews! By the by, this chapter is dedicated to a reviewer called "Abadon 666", who made me giggle uproariously.
Three days later, Norrington and Will were sitting in the police station with their hopes still high, despite the fact that no one had reported seeing Elizabeth Swann since Miss Finney had called. Will was doing paperwork, and Norrington taking several phone calls about a certain vandalization act that was being enacted around Drury Lane. Neither were aware that another phone line had just lit up, the bulb of the button being rather dim and hard to see under the buzzing lights.
In downtown London, Lucinda Torrence was swearing, begging for someone to pick up the phone -- because the girl she was seeing in a window across the street couldn't be anyone other than Thomas Swann's daughter.
Jack and Elizabeth were, so far, getting along just fine. Of course, she was still kidnapped and she didn't think fondly of him for that, but he was a decent enough fellow when he was sober enough to consider manners. Other than that, she had been informed that as long as she ignored the telephone when it rang, stayed away from what he deemed his "office", and only drank her rations of the liquor, she would be safe. He didn't seem to care if she did anything else, which was a strange feeling. She was so used to being controlled and guarded...
This afternoon, she was in a very relaxed mood: her legs draped over one armrest of an easy-chair in front of the telly, still wearing the clothes she had been in when she arrived at this strange place. At the moment, she was watching some sort of talkshow, where they were discussing the problems faced by men who had engaged in extramarital relations with their father-in-law's sister's daughters. A slim curl of hair was hanging in her face, making her look the most disheveled she could ever remember being. Jack was in his office.
Three and a half days, she thought, and I'm already behaving improperly, just because he says it's alright. Maybe I'm developing that complex where people sympathize with criminals: Always being hunted down and forced into unpleasant things...
Just seconds after she considered this, the doorbell rang, tearing her away from the story of Oliver and Moira. Elizabeth was unsure of what to do -- after all, this was neither her house nor the house of a relative -- it could look very suspicious. However, before she could debate this any further, Jack -- undoubtedly drawn from his isolation by an odd psychic phenomenon that had planted itself in his brain -- leapt from the confines of his closet, looking slightly panicked.
Without a word, he yanked her from the armchair and threw her haphazardly into the bathroom, where she fell to the floor in disarray. She knew what was going on, of course. She was to be hidden so that Jack wasn't arrested. Unfortunately for her captor, Elizabeth had a wicked sense of humor when the opportune moment arrived.
Jack answered the door with no large amount of ease, sliding wildly on the faux-wood in front of the door and turning the knob with sweaty palms. He was faced with the most horrifying of people -- a rather elderly woman with unbelievably red hair for her age. She wore large aviator-style glasses and dress-up jewelry over a very green nightie... He knew the type the moment he saw her: This was a Nosy.
"Hello," Jack said with a grimace, trying not to let his annoyance at being faced with such an obnoxious creature show. "eh... may I... help you?"
"Mr. Sparrow?" said the woman, her voice a deep Scottish vabrato.
"...Yeeesss..."
"My name is Lucinda Torrence, Mr. Sparrow, and I was wondering if you had a girl in this flat with you?"
Jack stared at her, furrowing his eybrows. "No... I don't believe I do." This Nosy, however, didn't seem to be buying into that.
"Are you absolutely positive?"
Then, from the area of the back, where the bedroom and the bathroom were situated, came a fairly cheerful call: "Jack, you rogue, what have you done with my clothes?!"
The Nosy's jaw dropped, along with several of her chins, and Jack paled. "Um." he added. "Eh... well, actually I do. Her name's... ehm... Daphne. Really great lass -- graduated Cambridge last year."
"I'm sure." said the Nosy, and she turned on the heel of her pink bunny slippers and left. Jack closed the door, grinding his teeth together.
"Lizzie, darling," he muttered to himself. "you're really going to get it now."
As she laughed herself into hysterics back in the bathroom, Jack picked up the telephone and dialed up Gibbs. "Gibbsie," he said quietly. "yes... yes, excellent quality films. Now, I need two of your finest forgeries... yes, driver's license as well... er... Clyde Whitaker. ...How old do I look when I shave, then? Right, twenty-seven ought to do it -- any birthdate you want, you know the rest. Nextly, Daphne Whitaker, probably about twenty... blonde... brown. Yes, I'm sure. About five-five... 130. Yes. No. No, I've got the bands already. Yes. Thanks, Gibbsie. Where are we going?" He paused, giving the question much consideration.
"Actually, the Caribbean. Tomorrow, so if you could get those to me by tonight..."
Ten minutes after Lucinda Torrence left the step of Jack Sparrow's flat, she returned to her quest of phoning the police. However, it wasn't until around eleven that night that the telephone rang, yet again, and the police station. Will sat up immediately, reaching for the receiver. This had to be it...
"Police," he said, "this is Will Turner speaking. What is the nature of your emergency?"
"I think I've just found Elizabeth Swann," said the caller, in a feminine, although low, voice.
Will grabbed his blue gel-pen and grinned, fluttering around to try and find a blank sheet of paper. "That's excellent, ma'am!" he said, giving his excitement away entirely. "Could you please give me your name and address, and we will get people there as soon as possible."
Hearing the commotion, Norrington stepped outside his office, an eyebrow cocked and a cup of coffee clutched tightly in his fist. Once the phone call had been ended, Turner beamed. "What was that about?" the elder of the two asked, looking surly and skeptical -- as usual.
"You'll never believe this," said Turner, his voice cracking with glee. "but I think we've found her."
XxSablexX: Thanks! And I did look at your stories, but I'll have to read them when I have more time. I'm being kept very busy as of late... *sigh*
Elf and Tonic: Sorry, no smut. I don't do that because I like everyone to be able to read my stories, and I'd feel bad if some little kid were reading this and had to hit the back button. But thanks for your review!
POTC obsessor: Thanks! And yes, there will be Jack/Elizabeth, there will be rum, and maybe you'll find out about Jack shooting Lizzie later... bwahahaha.
KawaiiRyu: Thanks! And I'm glad you like Will... not many of the Will-fangirls do, I think. Oh well. I see him as a bit of a nitwit. And yes, Jack is Jack. It would be oh-so-sad if he weren't.
Liz: Thank you! And Norrington and Will... yes. It's the Odd Couple for swooning teenage girls, in a way.
bboarding323: Thanks! And perhaps I will have Jack the Monkey make an appearance... That would be very interesting. *grins*
Tazmanian Devil: Wow, I was right! How cool! I'll have to try and find the song. Thanks for reviewing! *winks*
Pirate: Thanks! That's so cool that you and your friends have nicknames! I wish my friends were that obsessed... *sighs*
hpdancer92: Thanks! I love your name -- very cool! I'm glad you reviewed!
SnowWhiteMuse: There's more now! And of course you adore Jack! Who doesn't? *giggles like an idiot* I'm glad you like the gel-pen, and thanks for recommending this!