Alright so it was a cliff-hanger, I was hoping you were going to be polite and not notice.

Cast of thousands: Not much chance of that.

Me: How did you get here? I didn't bail you out.

Jack Sparrow: They got the dog to move.

Me: This is getting weirder by the minute. As always my humble thanks to everyone who reviews me. In me own mind I'm offering you all a cookie.

Jack: Where did my rum go?

Me: I took it to a party. It met a lot of nice new people.

Jack: If it wasn't that I want to know what's happened to me, you and me would be having words.

Me: Like Countdown.

Cast of thousands: Shut up and write the damned story!

Actual serious point. This part of the chapter happens pretty much at the same time as most of the rest of the chapter, i.e the bit before, with Norrington, Gibbs and Elizabeth. Confused? Good. After you read it, it should make sense and if it doesn't just shout at me and I'll work on it.

********************************************************************

It seemed his plan had worked; now all he had to do was live through it. Elizabeth, Will and bloody Norrington were all armed now, all doing good work dealing with Masters crew. So he could go after the man himself. Not that that was as easy as it sounded. For someone who apparently had such a hatred of him, Masters was reluctant to actually join in the fight. He had stepped back as soon as he'd seen Jack and Will acquire swords, leaving the pirates who appeared to act as his personal bodyguards to confront Jack.

Fighting two men at once on the deck of his ship in the middle of a storm was not Jack's idea of a good time, but he prided himself on the fact that he could adjust to anything. Besides, the two seemed a little afraid of him. He wondered why - after all they were both bigger than him - then considered his likely appearance and his recent actions. He grinned widely. That appeared to increase their nervousness. Good, anything for an advantage.

He was aware of the Pearl shifting beneath his feet, but it didn't bother him as it did the others. He moved with her, same as always. In fact, he was a little surprised when one of his opponents fell to the deck. But, always alert to the possibilities, he leapt on top of the fallen man and used the height advantage to rap the second pirate smartly across the head with his sword hilt. He watched in satisfaction as the man toppled. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of Masters, gazing to the heavens as if in disgust. Then the pirate he had been using as a step grabbed him around the ankles and sent him crashing down.

He knew he was lucky; if a wave had hit the ship at that moment he could very well have been sent overboard. But, lying on the hard wood, his already-bruised face throbbing in protest, he had to wonder, briefly, if drowning wouldn't have been more pleasant. Then - quick as the sparrow he had named himself for - he rolled over and blocked the sword that had been heading for his neck. He smirked a little at the astonished expression on the pirate's face; serves him right for ever considering Captain Jack Sparrow to be easy prey. Then he kicked up at the man's knee, bringing him down.

They both got to their feet at the same moment. Jack could feel the wind whipping across his face. The mix of warm spray and cold rain it brought with it had already soaked him. He knew that this would get worse before it got better. He didn't know if he meant the storm or the fight. He and the pirate returned to trading blows; the man was good, Jack had to admit. He was aware all the time of Masters watching him from the quarterdeck in the manner of one waiting. It was more than a little unnerving. He wanted to finish this fight as soon as possible. Enough was enough. With that in mind, he stared intently over his opponents shoulder, eyes widened as though in shock.

"Look out man!" he yelled. Automatically the pirate half turned and it was at this point that Jack swung his sword. Funny, he hadn't really expected such an obvious ploy to work. Both he and Masters watched the remains of the pirate fall overboard.

"That was a little unfair was it not? I thought you claimed to be a good man." Masters walked slowly down the stairs, sword drawn. The effect was marred slightly by the way he clutched the railing tightly against the movements of the ship.

"You said it, not me. I never claimed to be anything but who I am." Jack didn't bother advancing; it was his turn to wait.

"And what is it that you are?" Masters had reached him now, and this was hissed practically into his face.

"Captain Jack Sparrow. Haven't you been paying attention, mate?"

With a snarl, Masters swung at him. Of course he had been expecting it so he dodged with ease bringing his own sword up. The clash of steel on steel could hardly be heard above the sounds of the storm going on all around them.

It was difficult to say who had the advantage. It was noticeable that Masters couldn't remain upright through the tossing of the ship the way that Jack could, but Jack knew that as the storm worsened that would change. That was merely anticipation and he couldn't hope to keep his balance when the real fun started. And when that happened, he would still be tired and already injured. Then it would be Masters who held all the cards.

The swirling water was already buffeting against his legs. Masters was holding tight to a line, waving his sword to keep Jack at bay. This was obviously the time to come up with a fiendishly brilliant plan. His eyes went to the sail above Masters' head. It was already nearly off. . . He shrugged. Why not? Moving backwards abruptly he slashed the last few lines holding it on. It fell. Jack ran towards the lump under the canvas, sword at the ready. His grin soon faded when the wind picked up fiercely and blew the fallen sail directly at him. Not such a good plan after all, he thought as he lay flat on his back, entangled in the sheet.

He could tell from the movements that Masters was in a similar predicament. This had to be among the more ridiculous things that had ever happened to him. He gasped as he felt a wave crash into the side of him, carrying the whole tangle towards the side of the ship. This could be a serious problem. He struggled desperately to free himself, but it seemed to only make things worse. The pain when he hit the railings came as a relief as he was able to hook his arm around them. It was a little disturbing to realise that the railings were actually beneath him though. If the Pearl rolled much more he would fall off her. If the Pearl rolled much more she would sink herself. He wasn't sure which thought was worse, but neither was exactly comforting. The water crashed over his head for what seemed an eternity. It was numbing after a while, a sort of constant chill that seemed more wearing than the freezing cold would have been. All through it he kept a tight grip on his sword. That he was going to need - if he had managed to save himself, Masters would have too.

At last, his ship righted herself and he struggled to his feet. He was entirely unsurprised to see Masters a little further aft, staring at him. Odd, the man resembled nothing more than a half-drowned weasel. There was an ugly looking cut across his forehead. Jack had never exactly been afraid of him, but now he couldn't even see what he had been apprehensive about. A painful twinge in his arm reminded him that he wasn't in the best physical shape either. All the same, there was nothing left but to finish it. One way or the other.

They fought in silence. Jack was very quickly pushed backwards. There was nothing real to him now except the will to stay alive. He struggled to stay on his feet in the face of the elements; if he fell he would die. Both men were thrown, time and time again against mast or railings but each time regained their poise before the other could press the advantage. Jack was aware of scoring a few hits on Masters and was aware of similar wounds being inflicted on him. Nothing serious. Nothing that could bring this dance to an end. Perhaps this battle truly would go on till the end of time. It felt like it already had. It was strange that he wasn't angry now. Strange that he didn't hate his enemy. He had, before, but now there was nothing but the exhaustion and the determination, blended in equal measure.

The end came surprisingly quickly. After seemingly falling against the mast, Masters came up with a rope, which he threw, catching it around Jack's ankles. Jack twisted desperately, but fell backwards, dropping his sword in the process. He landed on the railings; the wood dug into his back. The storm was dying down; he knew, by that strange instinct, that it was on its last, dying, gasps. In an instant Masters stood over him, leaning forwards, his face pressed up close to Jack's and his sword just pricking Jack's throat.

"So you see, Jack Sparrow, in the end the difference between us was simply that I am better."

Twisting his head slightly, Jack saw Will, Elizabeth and Norrington. They were on the other side of the deck. Far too far away to help him. Far too far away to do anything but watch. He pitied them.

He turned back to Masters. He felt the smile dawn on his face. "No mate. The difference between us, always was that you were prepared to admit the possibility of an end." Masters frowned. Jack reached up and grabbed the other man's collar. Then he simply allowed himself to fall backwards into the waiting sea, pulling his enemy with him.

********************************************************************

Cast of thousands: And will you be claiming that that wasn't a cliff hanger either?

Me: No, that one I admit to.

Jack: Am I dead?

Me: Well, there are a hell of a lot of people around who'd be only to happy to check for you.

Jack: Bloody rum-stealing strumpet.

Me: Eunuch! You know, that is a truly great insult.

Jack: *proud* I know.

You know, this chapter seemed disturbingly dark. Any thoughts?

I welcome all reviews and most flamingos.