"So Lifelike!"

By GirlX2

My God...The outpouring of support for this fic has me overwhelmed. Wipes away a tear Its wonderful. Thank you all so much.

Jack: What are you crying for? It's ME they love! Me, who you've uncerimoniously shrunk down, brought to the future, force fed junk food, and-MMPH!

Shoves Jack into her pocket Anyway, enjoy! Its a bit short, but I'll make up for it next time.

-

Jack had a few uneasy moments while in Matt's car, but masked them. He didn't want to give the whelp anything to lord over him. Finally, they arrived at the two story brick building.

"My dad works nights so he's probably asleep right now, and my brother is staying at my Mom's tonight, so it should be okay." Matt huffed as he lugged the box up the short flight of stairs. He set it down (a bit harder than necessary) to unlock the door. Jack bit back a yelp. Showing any kind of weakness in front of the whelp was not about to happen.

The interior of this house was far darker than Dana's. The kitchen and living room melded into one space with a small 'island' of wood separating them. Matt set the wine crate on top of this structure.

"Once again, I find myself stranded on an island…" Jack muttered, climbing out of the box.

"Well there's no rum in this one." Matt said, taking the box out of the room.

Jack surveyed the (mostly) clean surface. It was some kind of whitewashed wood as far as he could tell, daubed every so often with a dried up piece of food. With his signature walk he slowly traversed the strip.

"And now-" Matt came back and flopped onto the couch. "I get to relax."

"Are you just going to leave me here?" Jack called angrily.

"The great Captain Jack Sparrow can't get down by himself?" Matt replied.

That stopped Jack cold as he tried to think of a comeback. When nothing came to mind, he began to pace the wood, mumbling under his breath. He glanced up at the TV. Onscreen, a character in strange Asian garb was fighting a monster. Matt seemed to be cheering the human character one.

"What kind of moving picture is that?"

"It's a videogame." Matt replied, fiddling fiercely with a box in his hands. "I control Goku-the guy in orange-and fight the others."

Jack stared at the two fight. Finally, the large pink monster went down.

"Yes!" Matt grinned. "Freakin' Majin Buu is tough, but I got him."

Jack stared in amazement. Had real fights become so scarce in this world that people were driven to fighting pictures?

"Seems like a passable way to waste time when your not with the lovely Dana." Jack grinned. Riling the whelp up wasn't the best idea--but Dana had made him promise to be nice.

"Hey, what did I say about-"

"I was only complimenting her. Surly you agree she's lovely?" Jack said smoothly.

"Well, yeah…but that doesn't mean I want you thinking about her like that!" Matt said.

"Aye, but I'm not in a position to do anything about it." Jack smirked. "If, however, I were at my right size-"

"Stop right there or you're sleeping on the lawn."

"Right."
-

Jack sat in silence for the better part of an hour. Matt continued to play his game, oblivious to the outside world. For the umpteenth time, he estimated the distance to the floor, and felt less than optimistic about his chances of surviving a leap. Finally, he couldn't take it. He picked up a crusted bit of food and chucked it at Matt

"Hey!" Matt yelped after the food bounced off his forehead.

"Will you be leaving me up here all night?" Jack asked sarcastically.

"For the love of God!" Matt groaned, slamming the control box onto the couch. He roughly snatched the pirate off the counter, and set him down on the arm of the couch.

Jack glared at him, hand itching towards his sword.

"I wouldn't try anything; that thing's about the size of a toothpick." Matt resumed his game. A smile curled across his lips. In a Scottish accent he continued: "Suppose you're compensating for something?"

Unfortunately, the pop culture reference went right over the pirate's head (pun definitely intended). If there was one thing that set the Captain off, an attack on his manhood was it. Drawing the sword, he leapt forward and plunged it into the denim covered thigh.

"OW!" Matt leapt up, grabbing at the wound. "Son of a Bitch!"

'Bugger.' Jack watched the sword fall to the floor. He leapt from the couch and took off at a run as soon as his feet hit the floor. Darting between the thickly-booted feet, Jack snatched up his sword, and kept on running.

"Damn you Jack Sparrow!" Matt roared, unintentionally echoing Davy Jones. He stumbled slowly after the pirate.

Jack paid no heed to the bellowing man, but continued to run in his patented 'Drunken Little Girl' manner.

'The door?' Unthinkable, he'd never be able to open it. 'Windows?' Even more unreachable. 'Go back and apologize?'

'Where did that come from?' Jack almost stopped in mid-run from the shock of such a thought. He obviously was beginning to get desperate.

That's when he spotted the ventilation duct.

-

Dun Dun DUNNNN!