Spoilers: None. Doesn't fit into the plot anywhere, as a matter of fact.
Pairings: None.
Summary: A familiar scene rears its head, but with a new twist, and a new cast.
Warnings: Some good-natured character bashing, mostly of Will. Think of this as parody, though.
I don't own Will, nor do I wish to. Unfortunately, neither do I own Jack, Elizabeth, or the Black Pearl, but if I did, they'd have a wonderful time pirating not just the Spanish Main, but the entire ocean...and Star Wars is owned by the great flannel one. Dear lord, I never thought I would write anything that would require me to say that.
A young man crept quietly and stealthily into the brig of the pirate ship that held the beautiful woman of his dreams, the Lady Elizabeth Swann. He inched his way toward her cell as quickly as possible in the dark, sure that he would soon rescue the lady and sweep her off her feet. The intrepid soul sighed wistfully at his daydream and promptly slammed into a table, loudly knocking it on its side and spilling its contents to the floor.
"Ow! Bloody—" he started to yell, cutting himself off quickly as he remembered that he was secretly aboard a ship that would be decidedly unfriendly toward any attempts to rescue the Lady Swann. The young man settled for rubbing the new bruise on his thigh.
A calm, cool, and beautifully feminine voice rang out from across the room. "Who's there?"
It was the Lady Swann! "My name is Will Turner and I'm here to rescue you!" He winced as soon as the words left his mouth. Could he have sounded more like an overeager puppy if he had tried?
Inside her cell, the rescuee in question simply raised one elegant eyebrow at the young man. "Aren't you a little—" The woman paused to consider him, squinting into the darkness and eyeing the lad up and down in a way that made him feel decidedly uncomfortable. "—clumsy for a pirate?"
Will flushed, embarrassed. "I'm not a pirate! I've been commissioned by your father to rescue you!"
"My father commissioned you to rescue me." Lady Swann was clearly skeptical of the claim.
"Well, not so much commissioned as—offered a reward." A new voice cut smoothly through the darkness.
"Jack! What're you—" Will started angrily. Not only had Jack stolen in on his conversation with Miss Swann, but he had implied that he, too—William Turner—was out for the lady's money. His intentions were far more honorable than those of his scoundrel companion's.
"Ye're makin' quite a racket down 'ere, mate. They may be drunk above, but not all of 'em are senseless." The newcomer strode down the stairs. Well, not so much strode as wove drunkenly. "Would you be breakin' the lady out now?"
Will's eyes widened. "Right, of course." He groped around on the floor for the edge of the overturned table. "Please stand back, Miss Swann." She complied, with a doubtful expression still plainly stamped across her pretty face—an expression which quickly turned to thoughtful consideration as Will levered her cell door off its hinges.
"Well, you might not be such a bad pirate after all, Mr. Turner. And are you drunk?" She rounded on the figure now crouched above the floor, his hands fluttering as he sorted through the items formerly held by the overturned table. Will sighed,pleased at her praise but dismayed by her lack of attention and her insistence on referring to him as a pirate.
Jack pocketed a few pieces of...something, grinned, and stood up, swaying slightly. "O' course not, luv. Whatever'd give you that idea?"
Miss Swann had just opened her mouth to respond, scathingly no doubt, when the door at the top of the stairs slammed against the wall, and they heard several pairs of boots pounding down the steps.
"Time for our exit," Jack announced, then turned to his partner in breaking-and-entering. "I don't suppose this sorry excuse for a ship 'as another avenue of escape?"
Will backed up slightly, watching the stairs grimly. "We've been cut off."
"The whole bloody ship must know what's going on now!" Both men started at the sound of Elizabeth's voice. "And we have no way out!"
"I'm welcome to any an' all brilliant suggestions, luv," Jack said. "But at the moment, it's lookin' like swords'd be our best option 'ere, 'less you'd prefer the view from your previous accommodations, m'lady." He gestured vaguely toward the doorless cell.
"Would you two cut it out!" Will snapped as the guards—thankfully bearing lanterns—came into view. "Stay back, Miss Swann, we'll take care of this."
Both men drew their swords and faced off against the pirates of the dread Captain Barbossa's crew. The two would-be rescuers held the passage into the cell block, but were unable to press their way up the stairs. After less than a minute of fighting, Elizabeth groaned, annoyed beyond measure by the foolish display of bravado.
She moved closer to her two "rescuers" and yelled in the drunken one's ear. "This is some rescue. When you came in here, didn't you have a way out?"
He turned to glance at her briefly before returning his attention to the desperate sword jabbing of the nearest crewman. "'Fraid the whelp's the motivation 'ere, luv. I'm more or less just along for the money."
Rolling her eyes in a rather unladylike fashion, Elizabeth compounded her sins against society and reached for the pistol tucked into Will Turner's belt. Ignoring his cry of surprise, dismay, and embarrassment, she marched down the corridor and out of the lamplight.
"I think that's our signal, mate," Jack nodded his head in the direction of the quickly departing lady. He shoved the lad in her general direction, lunged unexpectedly at Turner's opponent and stabbed him in the arm, and sharply kicked a kneecap of his own adversary. He shoved the two backward into their companions and swept off his hat, executing a mocking bow before scrambling after Will and Elizabeth.
Jack had just caught up to the pair when Miss Swann shot the stolen pistol at a bare wall. "What the bloody 'ell are ye doin'?" he shouted, coming to an abrupt, flailing halt. The lass must have gone barmy cooped up in the brig.
"Someone has to save our skins. This wall is thin; I could hear men through it all the time," she explained impatiently. "You can easily break it down."
While Will looked at her with something akin to worship in his eyes, Jack stared at the wall, which was for some reason now bleeding, and meandered closer. "Rum! It's bloody rum!" He whirled to face Elizabeth, completely unmindful of the conventions of personal space and the rapidly nearing guards. "You shot good rum!"
Elizabeth gaped at him in disbelief. "We could die here, and all you're worried about is some spilled rum that isn't even yours to begin with?"
"Not now!" Will grunted as he threw himself wholeheartedly into the lady's plan—and the wall—ignoring his partner-in-crime's mumbling about killing their newly-rescued charge.
His headlong charge had certainly proved the Lady Swann correct, he mused, as he shook his head to clear it. All it had taken was one good hit, and the wall, along with a bottle rack partially filled with rum, had collapsed inward. He turned to watch as Miss Swann somehow managed to scramble in a dignified manner into the liquor storage room, followed by Jack, who minced into the room, being careful to avoid stepping on any rum bottles left intact.
Scrambling to his feet, Will shrieked suddenly. "Something just moved past my leg!" he exclaimed, staring at the floor of the room, clearly trying not to panic.
His two companions eyed the young man strangely. "So you're not the only crazy one here, hm?" Miss Swann commented archly to Jack.
Ignoring the gibe, Jack worked his way to the edge of the liquor rack, speaking over his shoulder to Will. "There's nothin' 'ere 'at would touch ye, save for maybe Miss Swann. And I'd 'ope ye'd 'ave sense enough not to scream if she should try anythin'." He paused, oblivious to the glares of both Elizabeth and Will. "Yer not a eunuch, are you?"
Will gaped at Jack, all thoughts of slime and monsters driven from his mind as the other man carried on obliviously. "Well, c'mon, lad. I'd rather not lift this meself." Still attempting to murder Jack with their eyes, his two companions helped him heave the liquor rack back upright, hoping that the other pirates would at least slow down when faced with the possible loss of a good portion of their stored-away rum.
Will and Elizabeth hurried to the door of the tiny room, and were pleased to find it unlocked. They were into the hall before Elizabeth realized that half of her "rescue" team was missing. She stuck her head back into the storage area and sighed with exasperation. Jack was picking through the broken glass to salvage any unbroken bottles, much to the anger of the ship's crew, many of whom were watching angrily through the slats of the liquor rack. Apparently they hadn't caught onto the fact that all they needed to do was give the rack a sharp shove and they'd be able to save their precious cargo themselves.
"Would you hurry up?" she snapped, wondering if it were possible to develop an illness just from the stress of dealing with one man.
"Right away, yer worship," Jack said, grabbing three last bottles and twining his fingers around them, then turning his stoop into a mocking bow. He ambled through the doorway, where he paused and saluted the raging crewmen with the pilfered rum. "Shall we then, luv?"
A/N: Dear GOD, what was that horror? That, poor reader, was the result of me randomly thinking of the line "My name is Will Turner and I'm here to rescue you!" Now as for why this line popped into my head, I have no idea. But this random scene was born, and for some reason, I think that Luke, Han, and Leia really seem a lot like Will, Jack, and Elizabeth.
Will there be other scenes like this one? Only if inspiration strikes me. Right now it doesn't seem probable. Thank you for reading, though!
Do let me know if you find any errors, although I don't think there are any. I could certainly have missed some, as I was editing during class.