A/N: Okay. For some annoying reason, ff.net isn't showing me all of my reviews when I get them. It's deciding to be coy and give them to me after I post a chapter and have already missed reviewers in an Author's Thanks thing. For this, I must apologize if I miss you at any time. Author's Thanks (hopefully all of them) at the bottom.
Before the story continues any further, I suppose one might want to be informed of the physical changes Jack enforced upon both he and Elizabeth before they left for their local department store to buy the latter of the two some clothes. He shaved his goatee, seemingly decreasing his age by around ten years, and cleaned himself up considerably. He now had the aura of sensible relaxation, although he kept the same self-assured attitude he had had since the beginning.
Elizabeth was a different story. Naturally, she had been unwilling to do anything to aid Jack in his escape from the law. The protests that came flying out of her mouth had the sound of,
"Why should I do this? You're the lawbreaker! You should take responsibility for your actions!" Jack's answer had been this,
"Luv... let us remember which one of us has the weaponry, shall we?"
And so, Jack had belted her down to a stool and cut her hair to a ragged shoulder-length, her bangs now hung in her eyes rather shaggily; he had coated her eyes with sparkly liner; carefully applied high-light and low-light make up to her cheekbones, giving them a slightly sunken look; and gave her a silvery pair of rectangular glasses.
Gibbs had taken out a Polaroid camera and snapped each of them seperately, carefully sliding the result pictures under the image window in their passports and IDs, then laminating them with an intriguing little machine he had found in his closet. When Jack and Elizabeth stood next to each other -- he in his baggy jeans and tight t-shirt, and she in the near same -- they left all traces of themselves behind. They no longer existed, and their places were now filled by Clyde and Daphne Whitaker.
From the department store they were going straight to the airport to catch the first possible flight out of England. Gibbs had been intstructed to house-keep, so to speak, and was taking very large advantage of the fact. While Jack had brought his laptop with him, he had failed to pack all of the Captain Morgan's... Which was unfortunate for Jack but very fortunate for his housekeeper.
However, Norrington and Will were storming up the fire-escape that lead to the apartment, Mrs. Torrence in tow, for what was to be the discovery of Elizabeth Swann in Jack Sparrow's quarters, at about the same time Gibbs was taking a box of biscuits out of the cupboard and helping himself to the thirt bottle of rum. They did not know, however, that their appearance at the door was untimely.
They stood outside in the damp night, Norrington rapping on the door impatiently. Mrs. Torrence was shivering. Will was making notes about the surroundings by flashlight with his shiny blue gel-pen. Norrington kept knocking.
"Unbelievable!" Will muttered to himself, sighing.
Norrington turned his head to peer around. "Yes... the place is rather filthy, isn't it?" he commented, shaking his head.
Will gave him a funny look, "I ... I meant that the nutter in there couldn't recognize the Police Knock and wasn't out here before you got that exasperated look on your face, because that look means trouble, and he doesn't want any of your trouble..."
Norrington closed his eyes, taking a very, very deep breath. "Turner," he said, "there is no Police Knock. Everyone was against that when you proposed it at our last meeting."
"Oh... oh yeah, I remember..."
"Could you two just.... bust the door down or something!?" shouted an annoyed (and cold) Mrs. Torrence. "You two stand around without taking any action -- just kick the door down!"
Will gave her a horrified look. "That," he said, as though explaining something to either a very small child or an incredibly dimwitted adult, "would be breaking and entering, Ma'am."
Finally, someone came and answered the door: A piggish-looking man with a bottle of spirits clutched tightly in one fist and the remote control to a TV in the other. Back further in the living room, an action movie was blaring over some very worn-out speakers.
"What?" he asked, brutishly.
Mrs. Torrence stepped forward, startling both Norrington and Will. "This is Sergeant Norrington and this is... William Turner, from the police. Would you please fetch Mr. Jack Sparrow for investigation?"
The man laughed, and pulled out a driver's license. "I am Mr. Jack Sparrow, Madam, and I don't think there be any need to investigate me... yet."
Norrington took the little card and examined it carefully. Sure enough, the picture, name, and information all matched. He handed it back with a look at Mrs. Torrence. "I thought you said you'd spoken to this man, Ma'am... Can you not recognize him?"
"This isn't the man!" Mrs. Torrence yelped. "I swear! He must be covering for the real Sparrow... He's probably hiding in the back room!"
"By all means, step inside," said the man who appeared to be Jack Sparrow. "you won't find a bloody thing to convic' me of anything criminal."
They entered, and examined, and found nothing incriminating.
As they left, Norrington turned to Mrs. Torrence with a ragged sigh. "Ma'am," he said. "I do appreciate what you were trying to do, but you are getting on in years and if I were you I'd start looking into a home."
The flight to the Caribbean was long, but relatively uneventful, and Elizabeth was desperately happy to finally reach the ground, get in a taxi, get to the hotel and go straight to sleep. But she couldn't help feeling so awkward, becoming an entirely different person. She felt strange, like a freak of nature. Jack, however, seemed quite fine with everything, and was positive that everything would be perfect. Definitely, no questions about it, flawless. Who wouldn't believe that they were a honeymooning couple?
"This is absolutely ridiculous." Elizabeth muttered as they entered the hotel, trying her hardest to ignore the small amount of warmth that radiated from Jack's fingers interlaced with hers. The gold ring around her finger was starting to unnerve her as well. She didn't like the idea of being married to this particular character, even though their marriage license was as fake as the identifications in their wallets. She pushed her glasses further up her nose as they continued to walk.
"No one will believe this, J---" he gave her a look, "eh... Clyde. No one is going to fall for this completely idiotic façade."
"The beautiful thing about idiotic façades, dear," he whispered back, a rather self-satisfied smirk on his face, "is that it takes an idiot to fall for one. Fortunately for me, most of the world is filled with them."
She rolled her eyes and sighed. "You're awful."
"I know."
The act began as they approached the front desk -- they stood closer together and beamed, each turning every few seconds just to smile at the other. It was an exact picture of a newlywed couple on their honeymoon: the excitement and sheer happiness. At least, that's what the concierge thought. But of course, no one is right all the time.
"Good afternoon," he said cheerfully. "I expect you have a reservation...?"
"Mr. and Mrs. Whitaker," Jack said proudly. Elizabeth giggled, feeling extremely stupid. This is bonkers -- expecting this will actually work... she thought to herself. He's going to suspect something's up...
But apparently, the concierge didn't think he had any reason to suspect anything. Instead, he grinned right back at them and said, "Honeymooners?"
Jack and Elizabeth looked at each other once again before bursting out with fake laughter -- nodding as though they were incapable of much speech. With that, they were handed a room key and the bellboy was rung up to show them to their room.
hpdancer92: Thanks! And yeah I think your name's cool! It's groove-tacular. *winks cheesily -- like in those Betty Boop cartoons*
Elf and Tonic: Hey... just because there's no smut doesn't mean they get to have all kinds of fun. I know it's probably not as amusing for you as it could be, but I'm trying here! *gives Elf and Tonic the hopeful look of a little puppy*
KawaiiRyu: Yes, trust in Jack... *smiles at the thought of Jack!pennies* I hope you enjoy their stay in the Caribbean as much as I... I mean... they will.
Pirate: Thanks! And yeah... I have Harry Potter fevah. My friends all think I'm (and this is a direct quote here) "PSY-CHO!"... Oh well. It's their own faults if they can't see a good thing when it's right there. Like Captain Sparrow... None of my friends like him either... *puzzles*
rythmteck (from chapter4 review): Sorry I missed you! Anyway, glad you like it. And I will certainly go write more if you shall do the same. *wink* And don't worry -- I want me to read your fic, too. :o)