It's been forever. You don't care anymore. Or you aren't aware, but I'm still writing. If, perchance, someone is actually reading this, please review.

"I did it." Fury whispered excitedly. Her words gained volume and strength as she continued. "I did it. I did it. I did it! I DID IT!" She sat up abruptly, causing her hammock to spill her onto the wooden floor of her cramped cabin. "Ouch! Damn it." She muttered, rubbing her hip. "But I still did it."

She needed to tell Jack. She'd been lying in bed, restless and unable to sleep, thinking about it, just as she had every night for the past two weeks, but she had finally figured it out. She threw on her breeches and ran out the door, then bounded for Jack's expansive captain's quarters and threw open his door.

"I did it." She announced, exuberant. Jack opened one eye.

"With whom?" he pondered sleepily. Fury glared at him for the degrading suggestion, but continued.

"Not whom. What. What is that I figured it out."

"What?" Jack sat up on the bed. Fury was preoccupied with lighting a lantern resting on the navigational table. She was so preoccupied, in fact, that after she turned around, it took her a moment to realize that Jack was completely nude. His clothes had been discarded on the floor due to the Caribbean heat that still permeated the night.

"Oh, bloody 'ell, Jack. Ye sleep in the nude?" She turned away, covering her eyes in embarrassment at the sight of his naked body and his…manhood.

"Aye." He grinned. "Do ye-"

"Clothes. NOW!" She interrupted his affectations. Fury stood, looking out the window, the wall, the lantern; anything to make her forget that there was a completely naked man sitting on the bed behind her.

"Ye can look now." He said. Fury didn't entirely trust him, but turned to see that he had put on a pair of trousers. She breathed a sigh of relief, but her mouth contorted into an angry scowl when he started to speak again. "Well, love, I suppose that we're even now, eh?"

"Even? Do ye lay in bed nude every night on the off-chance that I might stumble in 'ere and see ye? Tell ye what, don' answer that!"

"Or any other pretty girl." He answered despite her prohibition.

"You think I'm pretty, wait, but…never mind. Forget I said that." She moaned disgustedly, partially at herself, partially at him. She rushed to different corners of the room, retrieving the map and journal from their separate hidden locations, then spread out the map on the navigational table, placing paperweights on the corners to keep it from rolling up. She flipped the book open to the page where the first clue was. One side showed the section of the map and the other side was covered with a riddle, written in large, gothic calligraphy.

Jack was still standing in the middle of the room, looking sleepy and confused. Fury went over to him, grabbed his wrist, and yanked him over to the table.

"In 'arbour of royalty,

What scares evil spirits contains a key.

As above, so below,

The next clue ye will see."

She recited from memory, handing the journal to Jack. Those four lines had been turning about in her head for two weeks. She had, of course, seen them when she first read the journal, but they had held no significance until her quest had begun. Jack merely looked at her quizzically. "Fine. 'In 'arbour of royalty'. I thought it meant England, but that couldn't be because none of the map is out of the Caribbean. 'Arbour can mean port. Port Royal."

"Aye." Jack grinned. "But that's just the first line."

"Moving on, then. 'What scares evil spirits contains a key'. Iron, iron scares away evil spirits according to superstition. Ye can ask Gibbs, if ye want reassurance. Who works with iron? The blacksmith." Fury said, wandering around the room, contemplating her revelation. Jack liked the way that this sounded. "The key is in the blacksmith's shop."

"'As above, so below'. There'll be a marking of some sort above ground and the key is buried beneath it." Jack said quietly, smiling.

"Exactly, an' 'the next clue ye will see'. The next clue is buried with the key I can't believe it took two weeks to see that. 'Oly 'Ell, 'tis simple."

"Bloody brilliant, Fury. We'll head for Port Royal in the morning. Now, I'm…" The moment he hit the bed, he fell asleep and started to snore. Fury stared at him for a moment before returning to her room.

They arrived in Port Royal a year later or in no time at all. Anyway, the day was as clear as the fact that Jack Sparrow is, was, and always will be drunk. They sailed into a small cave within walking distance of the small settlement. After putting down the anchor, the crew gathered on deck.

"Alright. Listen up, ye scabberous dogs." Jack shouted, commanding attention to his insane, drunk self. "We are not 'ere to pillage, plunder, ravage, rape or otherwise create disturbances in the city of Port Royal. We are 'ere for the key, and the key alone. Don't think this means that ye can't enjoy yourselves, ye can. Go buy a whore or get drunk or something, but DON'T CREATE DISTURBANCES!"

The crew looked at Jack as if he'd lost his bloody mind. Well, he had, but he was certainly acting stranger than expected. Not pillage? What the hell kind of pirate didn't?

"Ye've lost yer bloody mind." One crewmember muttered, voicing the opinions of all his shipmates. Jack walked up to him and looked him in the eye, glaring.

"Captain. Ye've lost yer bloody mind, Captain." He corrected. All motion aboard ceased. The air was as silent as death with the tension and suspense. Captain Jack Sparrow was rather particular about his name. Although some could get away without calling him by his full title, his crew, unfortunately, could not.

"Y-y-yes sir, Captain Sparrow." The crewman murmured. Jack walked away after smiling stiffly. Motion and sound resumed aboard the lusty decks of the Black Pearl.

"We'll 'ead into town t'night."

The crew cheered, and then departed to get ready. Jack Sparrow stood, watching with an appraising eye, his hands twisting his braided goatee. Fury walked over to him.

"Jack, what 'tis it?"

"I seem to remember a few friends that are in the Royal navy. A Commodore, in fact."

"The Commodore knows ye? 'Oly 'ell. Damn it. Damn it. Damn it. Damn it. We're going to get caught." Fury kicked the side of the ship, and then began to hop around clutching her injured foot. "Ouch, damn it!"

"I do have an acquaintance that might help…" Jack suggested to pacify the injured and furious young woman.

"'O? The bloody Gov'ner?" Fury hissed sarcastically.

"Actually the blacksmith 'o used to love the governor's daughter."

"Fantastic."

"Fury?"

"Aye?"

"One more thing…" He leaned over to whisper a suggestion in her ear.

"No, there's no way in 'ell that I'm going to do that."

"It's the only way we won't get caught."

"The only way?" Fury asked incredulously.

"Aye."

"Fine." She said, crossing her arms across her chest and pouting. Jack Sparrow rowed a long-boat to shore. He returned several hours later, with all the necessary preparations for tonight. There was only one more thing they had to do.

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