(I'm almost certain I'm going to get hate mail for this one...)
"But do you know what the fish brought her? That's right! The statue of the very lad she coveted..."
"What was the fish's name?"
He paused. "What?"
"The fish. You haven't named him yet."
"I... why does the fish need a name?"
"You named the crustacean," she said witheringly.
"After me old mate! Very well - the fish was named... Flounder."
"Flounder the flounder." Elizabeth stuck her lower lip out, a sign that she was either trying not to laugh or growing irritated. "Terribly creative, Captain Sparrow."
He leaned in close to a candle as he looked over a map provided by the ever-faithful Magnus de Anjou - perhaps a bit too close. Elizabeth sat not five feet away, half-listening to the latest addition of his mermaid yarn. "...and the wee redhead said to her Papa, 'but father, I love him!' And do you know what her Papa did?"
Elizabeth yawned. Oh, dear, he was losing her. "Wished her luck and watched her kiss him?"
"Of course not. He wasn't there, darling. Mermaid, remember?"
"Oh. Of course. Continue, please."
"He took 'is great staff, an' destroyed 'er cove of belongings! Makes your ol' da look downright sweet, does it--"
She screeched.
Jack blinked, looking up at her. "If it affects ya that much, love, we can tell the story about the lass in China, the one that saved her--"
Wordlessly she pointed a finger at him, a look of horror on her face. "What? Moonlight making me bony again?" His pleasure at his own cleverness was interrupted when he smelled smoke, and something... something burning...
"You're on fire, you fool!" Elizabeth shrieked, pushing away from the table. Jack crossed his eyes looking down at the two ropes of his beard currently hosting flames. Oh, it must be a dream. Not enough rum tonight.
"So I am, so I... ACK! Put it out, put it out!" Jack flung up his hands and hopped about from one foot to the next, mostly to see if Elizabeth would do the same. Dreams like this were always so pleasant.
She did all that and more, scrabbling about for water. Relatively unconcerned by the heat he now felt against his chin, Jack pressed both hands to his heart. "I'm melting, ay me, I'm melting!"
Elizabeth flung the remaining bathing water onto him, quenching the flames and effectively dousing the rest of his body as well. Jack stared about his dripping person and the ruined beard, poking at it gingerly. "Alas, me wee beard, you've gone to the big chin in the sky..."
It then occurred to him that not only was he quite awake, he'd also quite effectively been... well, ablaze. The look of realization on his face must have been quite priceless if it set the girl to cackling the way it did.
"You're bloody daft," Elizabeth said. Jack gave her the most affronted stare he could manage, placing his hand over his heart to prompt ever-more laughter.
Now watching the lass wander about a night later, Jack tried to keep his hands away from what remained of the little ropes, declining a shave until he could get himself good and drunk.
Jack watched her reactions to what went on around her and found himself grinning more often. Clearly the young lady wasn't terribly pleased with the entire situation, but she'd be damned if she'd show him otherwise.
On their eighth night of feasting on Sparrowisle, Magnus de Anjou pulled him aside and delivered The News.
"Goldtooth spotted a merchantman leaving the Hollows--"
"Will's Bloody Isle," Jack interrupted. Magnus paused, brow furrowing. "It's called Will's Bloody Isle, if you please."
"I... see." Jack smiled inwardly at the look of brief confusion, but Magnus gamely continued. "Captain Bartolo made to be passing through the territory and the merchantman hailed him with the query of whether he'd seen anyone fitting the general description of the lass... perchance not wanting to tip him off to the other quarry." His second paused, looking out over the ocean. "Captain Bartolo declined. Chief Sparrow, what the devil is going on here?"
Jack draped an arm around Magnus's shoulders, guiding him unsteadily to the beach. "The sea, Magnus," he said, affecting as much of his rum-slur as he dared, "what do you make of it?"
Clearly, Magnus wasn't certain whether Jack addressed the subject of the sea of the situation at hand. He settled for an ambiguous answer: "Um... it's very mysterious, sir."
"That's correct! And be wary should you ever forget that, Magnus, for then we'd all be in a great deal of trouble - yes, quite mysterious. Quite mysterious indeed..." Jack patted him once on the shoulder and then sauntered up the beach, waving his rum bottle about with exaggerated joy. Must keep morale up, as always. The people of Sparrowisle would not be happy if they saw their chief moping about... not at all. Even if the news from Magnus and his schooner-captains had been less than inspiring over the past several days.
Ships prowling about where they should not. Questions that he did not fancy being asked. Rumors of bounties issued from Port Royal. Stories of something large growing in the Western Isles. Something... very large.
He would need something special for this. Something very special indeed.
Something he'd be able to get his hands on if he really wanted to.
Granted, it was a long ways off.
Damnall. He hadn't wanted to go back. He'd sworn more than once that he'd die before he went back.
Who'm I trying to fool? Of course I'll go back. Some things... a man's just gotta do.
Slowly, The Plan began to formulate.
Now he just had to convince the lady of the brilliance surrounding The Plan. Preferably without her knowing anything of it.
Jack took a swig of the rum and grinned as Magnus approached him once more.
Sparrowisle proved to be as intoxicating as its namesake, even without the rum.
Elizabeth found herself being treated as an honored guest rather than just a visitor. If she even looked to be reaching for something, it was brought to her. She was fed the choicest bits of food after the Chief, adorned in the finest clothes that could be found. Considering some of the silks and velvets brought out for her approval, she concluded that Jack must have been dropping swag off at this place for years before she'd met him. How else could so much finery come to such a little place?
For the most part, she dressed simply and tried to blend in. They respected her wishes, though they still approached her with a reverence far beyond anything she deserved.
She knew why they did it. The good people of Sparrowisle were obviously quite convinced she was the Chief's lady, according to Magnus. "He's never brought a woman back with him before," he had said when she asked after the treatment. "So naturally, they will... jump to conclusions."
Of course.
On the beach, Marcus said a few words. Jack nodded his head, looked to her. Smiled. Approached, his hips swaying as he extended a bottle of rum toward her. She took the bottle before she realized what she was doing and found herself swallowing a healthy gulp.
Oh, dear. This is probably not a wise idea.
He took her hand, leading her out onto the sand and spinning her in a rough circle before she could formulate a question. "What are you doing?"
Jack waved the question aside with the bottle of rum. "Dancing?"
"I don't want to dance, I want to--"
"Ssh. Still your tongue. Listen to the ocean. Slow down... and breathe."
"I am breathing."
In an instant he was closer to her - too close. His breath was laced with rum - so he'd had his dose already. Very well. "No, love, you're just inhaling and exhaling. Just close your eyes... breathe in... and breathe out..." When her eyes remained open, he stuck a finger in her face. "I'm not going to do anything improper if that's what you're terribly concerned about. Now close your bloody eyes or I'll cut them out."
He sounded just irritated enough to think about doing it, too. "You don't scare me, Chief Sparrow." Even so, Elizabeth obediently closed her eyes, turning away from him as she did so to let the ocean wind pour over her. Strong, quiet... sweet and fresh all at once. Beautiful. Free.
God help me. If I stay here any longer, I may never want to leave.
"That's better," Jack said after a time. "Now, Miss Swann, I will explain to you what's happening, and if you interrupt me..." He stroked his chin to dream up a suitable threat, then grinned broadly when he concocted one. "...I shall toss you into the water."
Elizabeth presented him with her most pious expression. "Then please, Cap--Chief-- tell me what it is you'd like to say."
The captain pressed the palms of his hands together as though in deep prayer. "'Twould seem our friend Gerrarrd has been about these parts more often than not. My little fleet--" his eyes twinkled as he said the word "--has been drawing him off for as long as they can manage, but sooner or later he will find Sparrowisle. And he will know straight off that the good people here... are mine, seeing that they all but fall in worship whenever me name be mentioned."
Elizabeth waited patiently for him to get to the point, even taking another swig of the rum. Jack grinned again, taking a few steps forward and thoroughly invading her space.
"...therefore, I will be... instructing them in several things... and then you and I will be hopping a ship to the nearest larger port, whence we will board a vessel to-- why are you backing away from me?" He closed the gap between them again, just to be irritating. "Have I got something in my teeth?"
"No." That much, at least, was truthful. "But I'm afraid... of what you could do to me." The words slid off her rum-loosened tongue before she could stop them and landed at his feet. "Of what you have done to me."
A rather unnatural gleam came into the pirate's eyes, and a finger slid down her cheek. "Thought we'd decided not to discuss this."
"We're not... discussing it..." Her mouth had gone dry again, and her arms flung themselves up when he stepped closer to her, rum sloshing out of the bottle. "Please, Jack... Chief Sparrow... please don't..."
"I scarcely intend to do things not to your liking, missy," he said with another of those damning golden smiles. "You don't like it, you say the word... 'stop'... and Captain Sparrow will stop." His lips set themselves to her neck, and she felt the singed braids of his beard tickling her throat. Stop. Oh, God, stop. Yet the words would not come - her tongue would not cooperate - there would be nothing for her, nothing save this, and...
But Will, Will is out there...
"Jack."
He paused in his ministrations but did not remove his head from her neck. "Hmm?"
"Why?"
He pulled away, fingers sliding down the front of the bodice, pausing to play with the strings. "S'I see it, darling Lizzie..." She cringed away from the nickname. "...part of you is out there fighting things with your dear William. But th'other part... the other part's right here with me... savvy?"
Was that... supposed to make any sense at all?
"I'm here, but...?" Oh. Oh. The bastard. Will was not here, but Jack Sparrow was. Yes, Jack Sparrow, ready and willing and quite available to assuage her every physical need...
...needs. Need was a funny thing, wasn't it? Months before, she hadn't even considered such things. Now, with a pirate in front of her... gazing at her with night-dark eyes and a knowing smile... a knowing...
She realized it quite swiftly after that: Jack was her punishment. She had done Will an evil on that island... she had done her God an evil, her family... everything. She'd let herself be with that... man... not even a man, but a pirate... and now fate had come to crack her over the head with him. With everything she had wanted and feared and wished for in those months after Barbossa and his men had made off with an imposter and a medallion.
Now here he was... the source of it all. The reason for everything. Jack... She longed to run her hands over his face, to feel his hands on her body again. He noticed her shift in position as she leaned against him, cupping her chin in his hand, smoothing her hair away from her face. "That's it, love, you understand now..."
Yes. Now she understood lust and its sortie of consequences.
His lips barely brushed against hers...
"Stop."
The lips paused.
"Stop. I cannot do this, Captain Sparrow. I - I care for Will. I care for my family, what's left of it."
He pulled away and looked at her with interest. "You nearly forgot for a moment, darling. Really, you should straighten your signals out." The interest turned to mild disappointment, and he lifted his shoulders in a shrug. "You're quite impetuous, Miss Swann. So much passion and vivacity... seems a shame to waste that on a quiet life, don't you say?"
She decided it would be in her best interest not to ask what she should do instead. "I don't deny what you make me feel, Captain... Chief... whatever you may be. Only that I realize that engaging in such things with you would bring nothing but ill."
"Ill to whom?" He countered.
"To all of us. Let me go."
Jack grinned crookedly and jerked her fully against him for one brief, horrible moment so she could see exactly what stewed within his eyes. "A shame to waste so much spirit, Miss Swann," he whispered, moving his hips against her just enough to inform her that she had indeed done something right this evening. "A damned shame indeed. It will please you to know, however, that I have decided what must be done to remedy a situation such as this, and it involves a bit of travel. If you'll place your trust in me, we'll no longer need to dally about on Sparrowisle."
Unable to come up with a properly witty retort, she nodded.
Then he was gone, sashaying off down the beach with his rum and his beads and whatever happened to follow him around these parts.
Two hours later...
He regretted it as soon as the blades flashed silver, but it had to be done.
Good Lord, mate, when was the last time you brushed this? Snip, snip. You know, it's simply scandalous to let it go for so long. Snip, snip. What is this? The bone held aloft. Wretched!
"'Ey now, watch that! 'Tis me memories there!" He'd had to get drunk to do it. Very drunk.
"Chief?" Magnus called from just outside the door. "Is someone else in there?"
"You're hearing things, de Anjou!" As he regarded the half-finished job in the muggy little mirror in front of him, he thought perhaps he had not managed to get drunk enough.
LOOK at this beard. Look at it! You should be ashamed! And what's this - is this - good gracious, he's been on fire!
"Accident," he grumbled, picking up the razor and eyeing it warily. "Maps. Bloody candle. Girl thought it was funny."
That's no excuse!
"Bugger off."
"Sir?" Magnus's voice echoed nervously from the outer room. "Are you quite alright?"
"I'm fine, Magnus!"
"Who are you talking to?"
"The rum!" He reached for a razor and found his hand smartly rapped.
NO! You mustn't just shave! You need to prepare your skin!
"Prepare?"
Soap. A tub. Well, maybe he was drunk enough; he certainly had no clue how he'd wound up here, soaking. Scrape, scrape. Shaving. Shaving?!
His mind began to stir from the rum haze. "Wait, what'm I doing?"
You want to help your people, don't you?
"Ah, thas' right, I'm setting an... example, aren't I. And... I got a place to go! Somewhere, someone's gonna see me an' say, that's a fine gentleman... aren't they?"
You silly man, there are no pirate gentlemen! Tilt your chin. Very nice. You do make a fetching pirate.
"Ladies 'r fetching. Men are... are..."
Why do this now if you've waited so long? I don't think we can salvage this shirt...
"Don't you understand, mates? I've got an appointment - I've got to save - the world!" He paused, touching the newly-smooth skin on his face hesitantly. "Well... the Caribbean, at the very least."
Magnus swung the door open. "I know you be talkin' to someone in here, I hear voices--" He broke off as he stared at Jack, his mouth falling open. "I--ah--"
Jack regarded him solemnly. "Careful, de Anjou. Voices can get a man rather crisped in these parts"
Shona peeped over his shoulder and gasped. "Quickly, hide the mirrors!"
Jack merrily scampered past them to look into the full-length mirror in the other room. He struck a pose, admiring his new look. "Why, I'm beautiful!"
The blond man dropped the beads and trinkets and bone into his outstretched hand. Glad we could be of service! Away they went - whisked into the night and taking with them the last of his rum fantasy.
He stared at himself in the mirror, and sobriety came crashing back to him as his hand closed around the trinkets. Behind him, Shona and Magnus exchanged uneasy glances.
He knew the face in the mirror; it was a face he had seen every day nearly a decade ago. It was a face he had turned his back on, a face he had banished to dreams and memories. A face...
Just a face.
"What's in a face, after all?"
Gently pocketing his possessions, he picked up the empty bottle of rum and ambled out the door, almost smiling as he passed the tattered remains of his hair on the floor. At least now he'd feel the wind on his chin.
Besides... he was about to pay Elizabeth a most delicious surprise...
Whoever was rapping at her door during the wee hours of the morning was going to get a sound slap if she could manage to stop yawning.
Judging by the impatience of the rapping, she had a fair idea of just who it was, too.
Candle firmly in-hand, Elizabeth yanked the door open, ready to deliver a thorough tongue-lashing - but stopped short at the stranger on her doorstep. Young, and not all that much taller than herself, he studied her with dancing dark eyes and a hint of a smile. Something inside her told her who it was - she knew - but the shoulder-length hair could not be his. The charcoal, where was it? Much of his calculating look had been lost with it.
He winked.
"I..."
Dear God. That had been a squeak.
Elizabeth did the only thing that seemed prudent at that moment: she shut the door and leaned against it, eyes wide.
On the other side of the door, the rapping turned into a pounding. "C'mon, missy, none of that."
She opened the door again and allowed herself to stare.
The man smiled, and only when she saw his gold teeth did she realize it was truly him.
"Good evening, bonny lass."
She had been aware that beneath all the hair and grime he was probably a good-looking man; during their time together, she'd even come to the mortifying conclusion that the very hair and beads she had poked fun at gave him a dangerous attractiveness. But this... this... "Captain Sparrow," she whispered, "You look... you look..."
Well, he IS rather good-looking.
The smile looked different without the beard and mustache, though he'd left a hint of each. "Roguishly handsome? Dashing? Shall I take you now?"
Oh, that simply would not do. "...almost human!"
Jack's mouth twitched, and he stepped inside, closing the door behind him. Elizabeth took a step back, sizing him up in the dim light of her candle. Yes, she admitted to herself, he's not difficult to look at. I suppose he's handsome now. But why on Earth...? "God in heaven, Jack, why?"
"Ah, is the lady displeased?" He winked, pirouetting so she could see the full effect. Bloody hell, he looked like a man who had simply made off with Jack's clothes. "Do you think they cut it too short?"
"They?"
"Ah, me. I. A bit drunk. Sorry. Yes. Well." He stumbled to the fireplace, shuffled his feet. "Why, you'll ask. Or did ask. You see, if I want my people to remain safe, they must... cut their ties from me, for awhile at least." When he turned to face her, something in those bright dark eyes had gone out. "So I must encourage them."
"By changing yourself," she whispered.
"Aye. I've done it before. Not so hard. Watch them all walk right past me on the morrow." Some of her unease must have shown, because he flashed another grin and walked over, putting his hands on her shoulders. "Rest easy, love, it'll all grow out in a year or so! I'll be back to the Jack ya know and love in no time... just as soon as what needs to be done is done."
There it was again - the uncertainty. She had never seen uncertainty in Jack Sparrow. Not in battle, not in conversation, not even on their island all those months ago. Uncertainty was not part of who he was.
It frightened her.
"Jack."
"Some call me that."
"What are you going to do?"
The confident smile returned. "I'm off to fetch something that will help us put a stop to Gerrarrd, love. Now don't ask any more questions, or I'll be forced to do something... drastic."
"This is for - for where we're going, isn't it? Not Port Royal."
He leaned back slightly, sizing her up. "No, love. Not Port Royal."
"I understand." Her voice caught. "I suppose - Isla de Muerta, then?"
Now the look he gave her turned to one of bewilderment, but it slid gracefully into acceptance. Acceptance that she'd figured out his plan. "That's the truth of it. Isla de Muerta. After all..." He slid back into his customary slur with ease, "...what's an adventure without a bit o'intrigue, m'lady?"
The knot that had started in her stomach worked its way up into her throat. "How do you do it, Jack?"
The slur and the smile vanished. "I learned."
His hands were still planted firmly on her shoulders, and with a quiet sound, she disengaged herself and looked to her bed. "I'm... rather tired, Jack."
"Ahh... not up for me joining ypu, then?" The grin returned, relieving her to an extent. "Get your rest, Miss Swann. Goldtooth will be taking us somewhere in a few days, once my... change has settled in." He bowed to her, hands pressed together in genuine Jack fashion. Then out he went, shutting the door gently behind him.
Jack paused on the stoop and smiled to himself. "We're going to Isla de Muerta, Jack!" he affected Elizabeth's tone as he virtually skipped to the water's edge. "'Why yes, love, we are,'" he responded to himself. "'Why look, there's Barbossa himself! How are you doing, old chap?' 'To be honest, I've been better, Jack.' 'Captain. CAPTAIN Jack!' Aye. Because I'd strip meself of such beauty for him! Oh, Lizzie dear, you're in for such a wonderful surprise..."
He set off to Magnus's hut, whistling. There was yet much to be done to perfect The Plan.
(So where IS Jack planning on going? How hard will Elizabeth slap him once she finds out? How long will it take for the Sparrowlings to get used to their chief's new look? Have YOU seen the Muffin Man?
Author's Notes: Considering the timeframe of the movie [and to an extent this fic] I would imagine that Elizabeth would have at least some foothold in religion. The version of her that appears in this fic probably viewed it as more of a requirement than anything, but she's probably looking for anything to blame Jack on at the moment. And, hmm... did a little bit of character exposition on Jack here. You may or may not agree with my interpretation of him - I'm just having a bit of fun.
With regards to: 'The Little Mermaid,' 'Mulan' (which I never did see), 'Wizard of Oz' and anything else I forgot to mention.)
(And yes... Jack was channeling the Fab Five. Yes, he had a bit of a makeover. Please do not have coronaries on his behalf: IT WILL GROW BACK! It will grow back to even grander magnificence than before! I promise you this! He had his reasons.)
(Wandering Rose, Erinya, & Rat - Have I mentioned how deep my love for you guys runs? I have never had such awesome reviewers. Thank you! The rest of the gang - you rock! Pirate hats for everyone!
Calendar, you thought the fic had a point? Um... it doesn't. =D)