A/N: This chapter dedicated to Will's blue gel-pen, because everyone loves him so.
"Mr. Spaaaaaaaaaaarrow... Are you home?" Will hollered, pounding on the door he stood outside with immense excitement. He paused his knocking, and listened for a moment. There were the sounds of a machine gun, and then someone shouted through the door:
"Come off it and go home, bloody idiot!"
Of course, Will was used to this kind of treatment -- mostly from Norrington when he was in one of his "moods", and occasionally bystanders who found him, for some unknown reason, annoying. But Will never gave up. He was here to find out where Elizabeth was so he could rescue her and win her heart, and by golly, that's what he was going to do!
No matter how long it took to get Mr. Sparrow to talk to him.
"Please let me in!" he cried in desperation. "All I want is to make you a business proposition... over a drink."
The noises of war from the telly were suddenly muted, and unsteady footsteps were heard before the door was slightly opened, making only Mr. Sparrow's watery eyes viewable.
"A drink, did yeh say?" he asked.
Whilst Will began the undoing of most of Jack's Grandmaster Plan Not To Get Caught With That Swann Idiot's Daughter, "Clyde and Daphne Whitaker" were slowly deteriorating each other's sanity -- although there was less to lose on the part of the former. Every minute of every hour was filled with either idle conversation, or scathing banter... Lizzie was wishing Jack would snap something dramatic, and threaten to shoot someone, just for a bit of action. Jack was hoping that any time now Lizzie would give into his devilish charms and admit how attractive he was to her. Of course, neither of these things seemed likely to happen any time soon, on account of the fact that both were much too safe-minded. The result of this was more idle conversation, and more scathing banter, which only served to bore them. Soon a more inventive way to live was thought up.
They now spent their evenings on the balcony with Captain Morgan and room service food, completely inebriated and delightfully relaxed. Jack leaning against the railing with laughable ease, and Lizzie spread-eagled on the luncheon table -- the umbrella that previously stood over it having been flung over the side in a fit of drunken something-or-other. This is how it was now: The sun setting on a Caribbean horizon; Jack humming some obscure tune or other, every once in a while muttering the words of the song to himself; and Lizzie staring blankly around, her head lolling over the side of the table in what seemed to be a very uncomfortable position.
"...Hmm hmm... daa dum...."
"Jack?"
He tilted his head to the side in response, trying desperately to make her face stay up the right way. "... Thirteen steps lead down," he sung at her, furrowing his eyebrows.
"I really think you should grow your beard thingy back... It made you look... er -- older, and more... you know... beardy."
"... lala... There's commoners and kings..."
"I've always thought that... beards and -- facial hair in general were... you know... Is there any rum left?" She sat up abruptly, blinking hard as the world spun before her eyes.
"...Hmm hmm hmm... And everyone's a prisoner of paper... and ... glue. And a decent pair of -- of... scissors... lala..."
She stood up, wavered, and walked towards him. Still carrying on as though the two of them were having a regular sort of chat. "You don't know how true that is... We're all prisoners of ... people. And. Society... And you saved me from all that, Jack," she was now close enough to poke him in the chest, which was exactly what she did. And then she whispered: "Is there any rum left?"
He raised his half-full bottle up to his lips, staring at her with slightly crossed eyes. "Hmm, la hmm..." he began. "So tonight... I'm drinking to your... your... health. Because, I just can't stand myself..."
He very nearly stuck with the rum. After all, years of loyalty to one thing and one thing only does have its effects on people. However, staring down at that pretty young girl gave him quite a few confusing thoughts... or maybe that was just the rum. But with Lizzie just standing there, and him just standing there, it was really too good of an opportunity to pass up. And so he kissed her. They both enjoyed it considerably -- after all, she had never felt so liberated, kissing a criminal; and he had never felt so bloody drunk.
But the fun ended when he passed out and hit his head against the sharp edge of the luncheon table.
"So you're not the real Jack Sparrow?" Will asked, staring across the table at the newly discovered Gibbs, who was now intoxicated enough to spill secret information.
"No!" he exclaimed, with a spurt of roaring laughter. "Nonononono... Jack Sparrow is in... off somewhere. Hidin' from... from you, I think... I'm not really sure. He's off with 'Lizabeth Swann, and they're prancing around in disguises..."
"You know, Mr. Gibbs, you've been excellent help. Would you like another drink?"
"Well... you don't have to ask me twice. Bring on a keg!"
Elizabeth had been very shocked when Jack fainted. After all, that was usually a feminine sort of thing. But she supposed, that if one had consumed enough alcohol, it was very possible to... you know... fall down. And be... you know... unconscious. However, she had been very pleased when he had kissed her. It was finally the bit of action she had been waiting for... And, if she ever returned home, it would be the ultimate chance to hack her father off. After all... falling in love with your kidnapper wasn't exactly a ... what's the word... natural, yes, natural. It wasn't a natural thing. Kidnappers were dangerously dangerous, and full of vicious ferocity, and...
She didn't just think falling in love. Staring down at the slightly crumpled form of her companion, she couldn't even consider that she might have just thought what she had just... you know... thought. After all, she was only... er... nineteen, and she had no... even vague... idea of how old he was... Not that she was thinking love, of course.
Because she wasn't.
...Was she? Oooooh, dear... Now her head was beginning to hurt, and the sudden need to vomit overwhelmed her. But even as she retched over the balcony, she kept insisting to herself that she wasn't... you know... thinking about Jack like that. Because... that would be... rather perverted, in an interesting sort of way.
But he's not bad-looking...
A/N2: Okay. I've never been drunk before, as I'm under-age, so I apologize if that is nothing like real intoxication. However, I have been around people who seemed to be drunk all the time, and they all seemed to act the way I wrote Jack and Lizzie. Just a note, so that you all know. Also, I don't own the song 13 Steps Lead Down. That belongs to Elvis Costello.
XxSablexX: Thanks! And I'm glad I'm not just hanging around and doing nothing with the plot. And I actually streamed the song you recommended -- it's really cool! I usually listen to Michelle Branch, Weezer, or Elvis Costello. It depends on what mood I'm writing.
Elf and Tonic: Perhaps I shall have to write a gel-pen story, then... *ponders* Thanks for reviewing!
KawaiiRyu: Yeah... Will's a dork. Anyway, this shall be a Liz/Jack story, because I can't stand Will/Liz. It's dull, and conventional, and it should die. This first drunken kiss thing was awkward to write, but I wanted to write it in that same funky state of mind.... Thanks for reviewing!
Pirate: Jack will definitely stay hot... this, I promise. *giggles* And you're very right -- he doesn't age! But that's fine with me... A wrinkle-less Johnny is a more attractive Johnny. I thought he was around 25 when I first saw him.... But of course, I'm usually wrong... (Never heard of the vampire movie, by the way. Sounds interesting, though.)
eva: Thanks! And yeah, J/E all the way. I didn't want to do the exact plot of the movie, because that'd be kinda redundant.
PirateWannabe: Yeah, Will's doing his own thing now. Let's just hope Norrington doesn't kick his wimpy butt for investigating when he's not really a police dude. And seriously, everyone thinks Jack's "too old", which is frightening. Because someday, they'll all be old, and they'll be married to old dudes... but anyway. I think I might just have to do the gel-pen story. People seem to like the idea. ^_^