"All right," Elizabeth said, "here's what we'll do. I'll complain of stomach pain for a day. Then I'll collapse to the ground and scream in agony. The guard will come in to check on me, and then you two will rush him, take his weapons, and we'll... dispose of those who come down in succession to check, until we've taken the ship!"

"Commandeered," Will corrected her lazily.

Jack offered a bright smile. "Does the sick prisoner bit still work in Port Royal?"

"I don't see you with any ideas, Captain."

"I offered several valid and workable ideas."

"We tried bending the bars," Will said. "And we tried using the wet clothing to bend them, and that didn't work, and now my coat's ruined."

Jack pursed his lips. "I told you we should have used something more... substantial."

The two of them instantly looked to her. "I'm not taking off my dress," she said flatly. Both men shook their heads with mock-sadness, but she didn't miss the gleeful glint in their eyes. Why Will, I do believe Captain Sparrow is having an adverse affect on your manners. He never would have dared to look at her with such intent before they'd been thrown in the cage. Most refreshing.

Jack exhaled. "I suppose we've no choice but to fall back on Plan B."

"There's a Plan B?" Will asked.

Jack scrambled to his feet, swaying back and forth with the motion of the ship. Lifting his hands, he paused to flash a grin at the both of them before proceeding to sing.

At the top of his lungs.

"Yo-ho, yo-ho, a pirate's life for me! We pillage and plunder--"

"We rifle and loot," Elizabeth joined in.

"Drink up, me hearties, yo-ho!" Will stood up and helped Elizabeth to her feet, joining Jack at the front of the brig. "We kidnap and pillage and don't give a hoot - drink up, me hearties, yo-ho!"

Their song echoed in the hold and doubtlessly carried up to the main deck, particularly Jack's surprisingly strong voice. Elizabeth still hadn't been able to figure out just what would be accomplished by bellowing out the same song over and over again - besides perhaps irritating Wickedry's crew to the point where they would leap overboard rather than hear another rousing rendition of the Really Bad Eggs song.

She could see where that would have its merits. However... if the entire crew went overboard, who would be left to let them out?

"Captain," Dugald complained, "they're doing it again. Can't I just go cut out their throats?"

"No, Dugald, it's improper to be killin' guests... even irritating ones." Sparrow and his two little friends had been singing that bloody song for the better part of the morning - it had gotten to the point where Gerrarrd had caught himself humming along when they set into it. "Perhaps we'd best give them something to do, if they're that bored..."

"Like walkin' the plank, mayhaps, sir?"

Gerrarrd kept his scoff to himself. Stupid first mates were a staple on pirating vessels in these waters: mean enough to take care of the riffraff, and dumb enough to follow all orders. There had been only two exceptions in the history of the Caribbean, one of those famous exceptions being a gent by the name of Barbossa, who had unstaged a very young, very trusting captain some ten years prior and had done quite well for himself in the end... aside from the whole curse thing.

Gerrarrd fancied that he himself would go down in history as the second one.

Barbossa had made one mistake in his lengthy career as a pirate: he had let the young captain live. That young captain had let the hatred fester and spark within him for nearly a decade, finally unleashing it when the time had been right. Barbossa would have saved himself a messy end by killing the lad when he'd had him cornered... but the lad had grown into a man, and the man had been determined. Shrewd. Difficult to take measure of.

And currently locked safely away in Wickedry's brig, singing his bloody lungs out.

To his way of thinking, the circle had been completed. Barbossa's failure to kill Jack Sparrow was the only black mark on an otherwise unsullied career; his cursed Black Pearl had taken on riches beyond the wildest dreams of most pirating men. Barbossa had done something else along the way - something he probably never had any inkling of.

Gerrarrd smiled and gathered up the prisoner's rations from the cook. "I believe it's time to pay our guests a visit, Dugald... keep the helm."

Will's eyes were half-closed when the latest dish was dumped into the brig. He sniffed the air, tasted fresh meat, and his eyes snapped open to behold the steaming tray. Elizabeth lunged for it, only to draw herself up short when Jack held up a hand. Will stayed where he was, watching Captain Gerrarrd study them. "Ye must be hungry."

"After the fine fare you've been givin' us? I'm positively stuffed." Jack patted his belly. "Although I believe the chicken could have used a wee bit more seasoning, and the wine was dry--"

"I'm not going to kill ye."

Jack paused in mid-gesture. "You know, I don't believe anyone's ever said that to me?"

"Think on it." Gerrarrd focused on Will next, and the captain's gaze made him sit up straight. "Turner. Bootstrap's boy. Yer father had his faults, but he was a fine swordsman. Might still be?"

Will smiled at him coldly. "My father's dead."

"Dead? Perhaps not. Flung off a ship with a curse and a cannon at his feet, yes - but dead? Leather wears through after a time, ye know." Gerrarrd shrugged dismissively. "I would have been proud to call him ally."

Jack tipped his head back against the brig, his normally off-kilter countenance set aside for a chilling tone of lucidity. "William Turner would never have called you an ally."

"Aye, but he called me friend, didn't he? And so once did ye... Sparrow."

Jack made a sorry gesture when Will looked at him. "In my younger years, my character judgment was not quite so sharp as it is now."

"If you're not going to kill us, then what is it you intend to do with us?" Will asked. His mouth watered at the very thought of being left in peace to devour the food in front of them - unless Gerrarrd had slipped a little something into it. Elizabeth had thought he'd put something in his wine stash, so why not the food?

Gerrarrd pulled a bucket over and sat down on it, looking each of his three prisoners in the eye. "Ah, ye see, lady and lads, ye each serve me a very specific loop in my tasks... in my goals. I had a mind to gain one of ye, to be certain, maybe two, but never all three... and never the great and mighty Jack Sparrow, well-known escape artiste! Though in yer case, Jacko, I do believe it to be more a case o'friends in the right places at the right time... something ye really should practice."

Will narrowed his eyes. "We serve a purpose?"

"Of course!" Jack stood up quickly, waving his hands about once again. "I'd forgotten entirely, it's been so long! Yes, it's our turn to play the part in the Wicked and Sinister Plan of - what was your name again? Eunuch Gerrarrd? We're needed to help fulfill some twisted destiny..." He snapped his fingers as a thought came to him. "...it must be Tuesday."

"Name's Ephraim, actually," Gerrarrd said quite mildly.

"Close enough."

"It's Saturday, as well."

"Stop, you're ruining his tirade." Will reached for a slice of meat, only to have his hand slapped by Jack. "I'm hungry."

"You don't know what he's put in there, Willy."

"Willy?" Will and Elizabeth both repeated. Jack perked up.

"Aye, you two repeat words far faster than Cotton's blasted parrot. Perhaps I should take you two on once we're back on the Pearl, how are you with ominous warnings? Shiver Me Timbers gets quite bloody old, if you--"

"Enough," Gerrarrd said. "I'm beginnin' te see why Barbossa mutinied, Pigeon, if you take my meaning."

Jack smiled, but his eyes remained flat, cold. "Sparrow."

"Ye'll be thankin' Barbossa one of these days, lad. What he managed to create is quite impressive... something ye might like to have." Gerrarrd touched his hand to his forehead in a mocking salute. "The food ain't poisoned, so y'ell can eat up. And quit that bloody singing before Dugald goes ballistic and rips yer hearts out."

They did eat the food, and as Wickedry sailed on, days blended together. Gerrarrd continued his damned name-tricks, Jack continued to play along, and Elizabeth rarely said a word aside from "pass the pot" or "turn your back." At least now she rested, content to lie in Will's arms while Wickedry passed through night. Will, meanwhile, contented himself with conversing with the very awake - and disturbingly quiet - Captain Jack Sparrow.

"You keep playing that stupid game with him, he's never going to quit," Will said, gently stroking Elizabeth's forehead as she slept. Jack smiled genially, tapping his fingers against the edge of his hat.

"Don't you see, lad, if I stop playing, he's won? He drew me into the game the moment I agreed to play." In the darkness of the hold, Jack's teeth glittered unnervingly with light from the swaying lantern. "And I don't like to lose."

"Game? It's naught but a name, Jack, and it's almost funny sometimes... Finch."

"Don't you be starting with me, lad." Jack tilted his head to the side to gaze at Elizabeth. "How have... things... been?"

"Well enough. Her father is permitting me to court her, and we've been seen about town. I intended to propose to her after Relentless docked." Will shut his eyes. He'd planned it to the last moment - he would distract Elizabeth, ask her to wait while the rest disembarked. He reached into the pocket of his coat, withdrew the box he'd placed his masterpiece in. After a moment's hesitation, he offered it shyly to Jack.

The pirate took it delicately, opening it with all the grace of a highborn lady. He looked upon it a moment: a simple silver band with fine lines swirling across it... waves... Will could see it in his mind's eye, gleaming in the dull lantern light. Jack pressed a hand to his heart and looked at Will with slightly-damp eyes. "Oh, Will, of course I shall!"

"Oh, stop it," Will huffed.

"We'll be married on a beach, won't we Will?" Jack affected a high-pitched woman's voice and fluttered his fingers about. "Barefoot in the sand? And I'll wear my beautiful silk dress, and you'll wear your pants."

Will chuckled, wrapping his arms around Elizabeth. "And what of those lovely stockings your grandmother knitted for you, Jacqueline? Will you wear those?"

"Why of course! But only if you marry me wearing that darling little cap I made for you."

"All right, but only if we invite... the Commodore!"

"The Commodore?" Jack's already-strained voice went downright squeaky. "But he's such a boring cad! I think we should invite that dashing Jack Sparrow, he's just so..." Jack's alter-ego fluttered her fingers and then placed them against her heart. "...dashing!"

"Jack Sparrow is not attending my wedding," Will said firmly. "The way things seem to go with him, we'll end up being chased by yet another set of merciless pirates, to be put to devious and altogether distasteful use."

"But he's dashing!"

"He's bad for my health."

"Bah!" Jack's voice returned to normal as he flicked a chicken bone at Will. "You bleedin' landlubber, at least whenever I'm around your life's not boring, now is it? 'Sides, if 'tweren't for Captain Jack Sparrow fallin' into your life, that pretty lass o'yers might have drowned before her beloved Commodore's very eyes not so long ago." Jack pointed a finger at him, and one of the gold teeth gleamed from his otherwise white smile. "You owe me, laddie."

Will rubbed Elizabeth's back lightly. "I'm not going to marry you, Jack, no matter how pretty your stockings are."

Elizabeth grumbled something and pulled her head away from his chest, and Jack swiftly snapped the box shut and pocketed it before she could even look up at either of them. "Do I really want to know what you two are discussing?"

Jack's laughter rasped, and Will felt Elizabeth stiffen slightly. "The prospects of good Captain Gerrarrd, m'lady, nothing more."

"Ah." She didn't sound like she believed him. How much had she heard? "And have you determined what our purpose for him is, Captain?"

Jack grew quiet again for a moment. "I've got an idea."

When he refused to speak again, Will reached across and jabbed him in the arm. "Care to enlighten the humble masses?"

"Not particularly; I rather fancy the sound of overeager individuals hanging off my every word."

"Funny," Elizabeth mumbled, re-arranging herself on Will's chest, "your voice is so much more pleasant when it's not being used."

A hand pressed the stained shirt. "Oh, you wound me, my lady."

"Stop it," Will said. "If you've an idea, then please, share it with us."

Jack sighed, stretched out as fully as he could in the tiny space allotted them. "Think on it this way, my dear minions; Gerrarrd dropped a few hints, did he not? Notably thanking Barbossa, while looking directly at me. I can only surmise that Barbossa either did a single bloody good deed for someone else once in his life, or - perhaps more likely - one of his actions has indirectly influenced our current location." Jack studied the cell, wrapped a hand around one of the bars while the other continued to dance about with his words. "Being that Barbossa sailed fairly single-mindedly for the last few years of his, ahem, career, the damage he wrought and pain he inflicted is far too numerous to comb through - at least for me. I expect for Gerrarrd as well. That leaves the larger picture to be examined."

Will and Elizabeth just stared at him blankly.

"Do I give you too much credit as intellects? Tell me, lady and lord, what, precisely, you knew of Black Pearl before I came leapfrogging into your lives?"

"Ghost ship," Will said. "The most-feared pirates in the Caribbean..."

"Aha! Very good!" Jack applauded politely. "And what did that leave the other pirates of the Caribbean as?"

"Um... less-feared?"

"Not quite," Elizabeth said. She propped her elbows on his chest to look him in the eye, and Will had to hold back the silly lovestruck grin he always managed to produce when she was around. "I remember Commodore Norrington discussing it once. 'Unimportant,' he said. The other pirates continued their work, but it was Black Pearl this and Barbossa that."

"Which means the rest of us were relatively... ignored, if you'll allow the term." Jack tucked his hat down over his eyes, a sure sign that he fully intended to sleep. "I suppose in your worst nightmares, one of them might have finally gotten up the gall to throw a fleet together while Barbossa distracted everyone. But I'll not sully your dreams with anymore talk of me brethren tonight, lovelies." He did favor Will with a wink from beneath the hat - or was it Elizabeth he winked at? "Do sleep well."

"Wait," Will said, "a... fleet? But... this can't be good!"

Jack began to snore.

"Jack, dammit!"

Despite their best efforts, no amount of prodding, questions, or threats would make the pirate captain say anything else.

("You said wet-shirt not break, not piss-shirt bend bar!" With regards to Roy O'Bannon & Chon Wang of Shanghai Noon... and The Pirates Song belongs to that company, you know, with the mouse... Disney everythin', yo.

One more bit: Jack's it must be Tuesday line... subconscious Buffy Musical Once More, With Feeling reference that I did not even notice until having it pointed out. Thank you much!)