Thanks, oh lovely readers and reviewers! And special thanks to the peafowl expert that led me to a great quote and a wonderful lead for a character I needed last chapter…

Picking up where we left off…


Elizabeth looked between Jack and Gibbs as they stared at each other. "We can't! We have to go to Muerta first and stop them!"

The two men turned to her, thoughtfully. Jack glanced at Ana, who shook her head once, slowly. Pursing his lips and sidling closer to the distraught Elizabeth, the pirate captain made an expressive little flourish with his hand as he spoke. "Listen, Lizzie-"

Whap. The slap rang loudly in the captain's quarters.

The girl's eyes were narrow as she spoke in a voice cold as ice. "You may get away with a lot, Jack Sparrow, but you will not call me 'Lizzie'." Jack turned back to her, blinked a few times.

"Is that what happens to anyone who calls you – I mean, surely Will has - "

"We can't go to any other island first! We have to get Father and Will away from - "

He shrugged as he spoke to Gibbs and Ana over her demands, distracted. "I mean, don't you think it just seems a little severe for using what is essentially a term of endearment –"

"Jack, please!" Tears came to Elizabeth's eyes, and the pirate appeared to refocus on the conversation. He looked back at her, dropped his shoulders.

"Listen – Elizabeth. We have to go to Kraji first." She opened her mouth to protest but he stopped her with a raised finger. "If we don't get our hands on this little example of primitive artwork, we won't be able to clear William's head." He stepped closer still, his finger nearly touching her nose. "There's no way of knowing what he'll do, love. Do you really want to have the boy lose his father so very soon after finding him?"

She stopped, looked down and spoke quietly as he backed off a step. "Of course not. But my father…" Her eyes filled with tears again. "There's no way to save them both?"

The pirate turned to look at his crew, his hands raised at his sides. "Now, did anyone say that, love?" She frowned as he looked back to her, a mild grin on his face. "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, and this is the Black Pearl. We can get to the island and still be at Muerta before they are." Gibbs made a little grunting noise, and they all turned to look at him. "What? We can beat anything that was floating in that harbor when we left."

"Yer asking for weather, making a claim like that, Jack. You know it's bad luck."

Jack made a derisive noise and turned back to the charts. "Nonsense. We've got clear skies all the way."

Gibbs shrank back toward the door, evidently expecting lightning to hit his reckless captain right there.

"I've got the bearing close enough on Isla De Muerta. Now, Ana." Sparrow leaned over the charts, moved a sheet and looked up at her. "Where are we headed?"

The beautiful, dark-skinned pirate looked uneasy, but stepped over to the table. She pointed a long, delicate finger which hovered over the charts for a moment before touching down. "Here." She waited only long enough for Jack to mark the spot before jerking her finger away as if it had been burned. "Gods protect us."

"Protect us from weather, say I." They turned to look at Gibbs. "Mark my words. You can't claim fair weather as a gift before you get it."

"Mark my words, mate." The captain noted their course and shook his head, not even looking up at Gibbs. "Clear sailing, all the way."

Ana and Gibbs exchanged a long, dark look as they headed back up on deck. Elizabeth stood there for a moment once they were alone, not sure what to think. Jack's voice broke through her reverie.

"So who was the horrible villain, then, who called you that?"

She glared at him for a moment, then looked at the floor. "Just a boy. I was eight, and after I'd gone to all the trouble of sneaking out, he wouldn't let me play with the other boys because I was a little girl." Anger flared in her eyes, until Jack looked up at her, mildly amused. Then she looked more penitent. "I used to like the name, until then. I'm sorry about...well. I'm just…"

"I know, love." He checked an angle on the charts. "But it will all work out. Mark my words."


It was two nights later that Elizabeth discovered just what seasickness really was. The water was so rough, the winds so high, that even with her sails furled the Pearl was lurching like a hyperactive toddler on a rocking horse. Elizabeth heard, over the noise of the wind, the captain call for the topsails to be secured. Again. Damn.

Elizabeth had been the one to tie them off. Lurching away from the rail of the ship, she began climbing, shakily, back up the foremast to do the job right. She had only just begun her ascent when she felt someone grab her leg. Looking down, she saw Gibbs sky-gray eyes looking up at her. He shouted over the gale. "Get below. I'll take it."

She shook her head and turned back to her climb, afraid that if she tried to speak she might lose what little food she had kept down. Gibbs grabbed her leg again, and she shook his hand off, giving him a dark look before she continued her climb. The older man stood watching as she made her way up, shook his head as the rain started again in earnest. Staggering against the fun-house deck as the Pearl swayed, he made his way back to the helm.

"She wouldn't have it, Jack. I told ye."

Jack nodded, trying to keep his ship from turning broadside to another wave. As it passed he relaxed marginally and spared a glance upwards, checking to see if his newest crewmember was hanging on. Sure enough, the girl was up there still. He shook his head and gold glinted in his smile.

"She's a brave one. I'll give her that."

"If she doesn't get herself killed."

Jack spoke to Gibbs without looking away from Elizabeth's high-wire act. "She'll be fine, mate –" At that moment lightning cracked the sky, and Elizabeth, startled, lost her grip. Both men jerked forward but Jack was quicker.

"Take the wheel!" Jack leapt forward, trusting that Gibbs would follow orders and keep the ship from getting swamped. His feet found their way on the slippery, shifting deck without his eyes guidance. To the casual observer, it looked like the typical dry land gait of Jack Sparrow – but in this context, it finally made sense. This man was always on rough seas.

Elizabeth, to her credit, didn't even scream when she began to fall. Clutching wildly in the storm she managed to grab the furled canvas that she had just tied off. Her fingers slipped on the wet fabric, the rope bindings burning across her wrist. Without quite knowing how, she managed to throw her leg over the crosstree and hung there panting like a jungle animal who'd been treed by an attack. The lightning flashed again, so close she was blinded by it. Closing her eyes and curling her head into her chest, Elizabeth hung on for dear life.

It was less than a minute later that she felt a hand grab her ankle. Her first fearful instinct was to shake it off, and she nearly dislodged herself from her precarious balance in the process. A voice called over the noise of the wind and rain.

"Elizabeth! Give me your hand." She opened her eyes and saw a dark shape clinging to the mast. Another series of lightning flashes and she saw a shaky, strobing image of her captain, water running from his hair as he reached out to her.

She wanted to move, to reach for him, but fear had clamped her muscles tight. Looking into his eyes in the flickering light, she shook her head.

"Come on, ye wench! I didn't climb up here in the wet to leave you hanging from my sails!" Jack watched as she struggled. Clearly her body, frozen with fear, was no longer accepting orders from her mind. He reached out as far as he could, not wanting to leave the strength of the mast. "Give me your hand. It's the only way down."

Elizabeth made the mistake of looking down just as the lightning showed her just how high she was – and also made it clear that if she fell at that moment, the ship was tilted so far off center that she would hit the rail, if not go overboard into the roiling sea. With a gasp her eyes widened.

It was nothing that Jack Sparrow hadn't seen before. Learning to ride the storm was part of any sailor's education; but up here it was a pass/fail class.

"Look at me!"

She shook her head, unable to tear her eyes away from the wildly teetering deck far below.

"Damn it, woman!" His referential yell got her attention this time, and he knew his course as she looked at him with suddenly narrowed eyes. Then the sail shifted in its bindings, and for a moment, he thought he'd lost her. Her eyes were wide once more when she looked at him.

"I can't, Jack."

"Yes you can, love. Just hold out your hand."

It took all her courage to admit what she yelled next. "I can't, Jack. I'm afraid."

The ship was leaning back toward him now. It was as good a time as any. "Come on, Lizzie! Don't act like a little girl."

Her head shot up as he spoke, her hand surging toward him the next instant. Gracefully he caught her by the wrist, pulling her to him as she lost her grip on the sail.

Ignoring her tearful gasps, he helped her as they edged down the mast, and pulled her into the shelter of his quarters as soon as they were on deck.

The change in noise level as he closed the door on the storm was almost deafening. Opening a wardrobe, he pulled out a clean shirt and a pair of loose pants. "You won't be the most well-dressed cabin boy, but you'll be dry for a while."

She smiled slightly and tried to pull herself together as she caught the clothes he tossed to her. Her eyes were downcast when she finally spoke. "Thank you. I- I'm sorry."

"For what, love? Anyone that close to a lightning strike is going to be shaken. You did well."

"I did? How?"

"You got the job done, and I didn't have to shoot you down. Savvy?" His smile grinned golden as he pulled out a shirt and dried his face with it. "I've lost more experienced men at a time like that."

Tilting his head suddenly, as if he were listening to his ship, he paused, nodded. "She's calming down. Why don't you take a break now. Have a cup of rum to warm your bones. Try to get some sleep."

She nodded limply, still standing with the clothes in her hand. He grinned again, knowing that she'd be fine once the shock wore off. "G'night, love." The pirate was stopped at the door by her voice.

"Jack?"

He turned and she was standing in front of him, hesitating only a moment before she hugged him. The captain, for all his usual poise, looked almost embarrassed as he patted her back awkwardly.

"Now what's all this, Elizabeth?"

"If you want," she sniffled quietly into his shoulder, "you can call me Lizzie."