"Don't think you're getting the captain's cabin back," Barbossa warned Jack as his first step aboard the Pearl took him in that direction. Then, realizing that the crew had sensed a power struggle coming and were all surreptitiously watching, he laughed it off. "Elizabeth's already laid claim to it."

"Well, I've no objection to sharing," Jack offered.

At the mention of Elizabeth's name, Will crossed his arms - entirely missing the subtext of the conversation. "Share with him, then. Because if and when Elizabeth comes back on this ship, she's staying with me and nobody else, regardless of how many bullet wounds she has."

Jack would have liked to take the distraction and run with it, but he knew the problem had to be addressed from the beginning. "Like I said," he repeated after a beat of silence, "I have no objection to sharing the cabin. But that brings us to the next question..."

"No," Barbossa's head snapped back. "Absolutely not. You have no right and I won't step aside."

"No?"

"No," he repeated, then continued smoothly: "I'm sure you're familiar with it, it's the word used to deny or negate an unacceptable proposal. Otherwise known as: the opposite of yes, certainly not, hah, or I refuse."

"But you owe me, and-"

"-And I want us to get home alive," Barbossa said over him. "Therefore it'll be me who leads us, and not you. Period. That's non-negotiable."

"Pish-posh, mate, everything's negotiable." Jack narrowed his eyes. "How about this, then: we'll share."

"Share?" Barbossa asked incredulously. "You can't share command of a ship! It's not doable."

"Not usual, you mean," Jack corrected. "I think we can manage."

Barbossa understood that as a matter of face if nothing else, Jack could not let himself be seen taking orders on this ship. Still, his proposal was ridiculous at best, and Barbossa was not looking forward to the headaches that came with a crew beginning to have doubts. Hmmm.

He popped his knife from its sheath and examined his reflection in the blade. "Perhaps we can. But Jack Sparrow, if I ever hear of you questionin, contradictin, or otherwise hamperin my orders in any way, I'll see to it that it's the last order you ever give anybody." He glanced up to make fierce eye contact.

"Likewise," Jack growled back. "I'll stay out of your way, you stay out of mine, savvy?"

Barbossa nodded and raised his voice. "Gents, you'll show Captain Sparrow the same respect you show me," he instructed. "And no stupid questions - we've got enough problems without them."

Jack brought his hands together and made his queer little bow. Thank you, he mouthed.

Barbossa drew a finger across his throat. You're dead, Jack, he mouthed back.

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But as it turned out, Jack and Barbossa stayed mostly out of each other's hair because Jack appeared to have no interest at all in giving useful commands relating to the running of the ship. Without them bickering, the ship was much too quiet and Elizabeth's absence much too noticeable. She hadn't even been gone twenty-four hours before Will broke down and went hunting for reassurance from the one source he would believe.

Captain Barbossa was on deck, bathing his festering forearm in a bucket of seawater. Will took maybe twenty seconds to get his nerve up to approach... and missed his chance.

Jack appeared out of nowhere, on his worst behavior, clearly determined to never again be mistaken for a lovesick puppy.

"Euwgh." He produced several ridiculous gestures and expressions, then declared, "That's got infection written all over it."

"Why thank ye, Jack, I hadn't noticed."

"You're welcome. Have you considered cleaning it out with rum?"

Barbossa's control over his temper began to fray. "Yes – I've considered it. But I can't do it, because the rum is gone, because you drank it all!"

"Ah. Yes. I'd forgotten that. Let's see." Jack pretended to think. "I know! We could always-"

But he never got to finish whatever absurd suggestion he had in mind. "Here - Gibbs had some." Will stepped up and tossed Barbossa a flask, shooting Jack a dirty look.

Jack gave him a loopy smile and sauntered off to do something useless.

"Let me do that." Will sat down without waiting for Barbossa's permission, and started to pick out strands of Davy Jones's slime with his bare hands. He fished for something to say in the uncomfortable silence. "I mean, I might as well, with Elizabeth not here to and all."

"I have to say the implications of that logic are profoundly disturbing, Mr. Turner."

But Will was much more disturbed by the sight and smell of the captain's injury. "Do you think this is going to be all right?" he asked, prying up another tendril of mucous.

Barbossa sounded insulted. "You think I would have sent her if I didn't?"

"What?- Oh. Elizabeth. No, I was talking about you. Believe it or not," Will informed him, "I am actually capable of thoughts that do not involve my fiancée's welfare."

"Who'd have guessed. I think this will close up all right once the ooze is out. It already feels a little b-" hiss "--better."

"Ah, sorry."

"It's fine, keep going." Once Will had poured rum over the wound and wrapped it, Barbossa stood up and flexed his fingers experimentally. "Fine," he pronounced. "And you know, I don't even mind it. It's funny, the things you'll miss when you can't have them. Even pain."

Will didn't even mark the momentous occasion of Barbossa's first conversational remark to him ever. He was too busy thinking through what that might mean if...

"What sort of behavior do you predict from Davy Jones? I mean, Elizabeth might be the first woman he's known since-"

"I knew it wouldn't be long til we got back to your favorite subject," Barbossa sneered. "And here I almost thought you capable of talkin like an ordinary person. That'll teach me."

"And here I almost thought you capable of saying thankyou," Will fired back. "Or at least being polite for a change. That'll teach me, I guess."

He was hoping to have the last word, but Barbossa would have none of it. He stepped up and touched the scar on Will's neck. "Boy, if that didn't teach you, nothing will."

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Elizabeth meant to go looking for Will's father on her very first night aboard, but before she got time to go exploring, Davy Jones called her into his lair.

The door slammed behind her all by itself, trapping her inside. With him.

"You," Jones began, clumping towards her slowly on his peg leg, "Are very lucky your friend Barbossa thought to lay down some conditions before I took you. You can't even imagine what would have happened to you otherwise."

He watched her face, greedy for something. But Elizabeth had already given this man a great deal of thought. All she knew of him (besides his unfortunate romantic history) was that he was addicted to a bluffing game he never lost, and to forcing hard choices on desperate people.

In other words, she had concluded, he was a bully. So in order to keep him off balance, she shouldn't show him fear.

"Well fortunately I have clever friends to speak out on my behalf," she answered coolly.

He snorted. "I wouldn't start celebrating just yet, if I were you."

Elizabeth tilted her head and put an edge on her voice. "Might I ask what I've done to make an enemy of you?"

"As if that matters!" When Jones laughed his shoulders shook a little, producing wet squelching noises from his beard. "Surely someone's told you there's no use pleading with me - there's nothing to appeal to. I have no heart. So I'm the cruelest, most determined enemy you'll ever have."

"Doesn't follow," Elizabeth answered at once. "Rocks and trees have no hearts either, and they're not cruel." She stared at him with as much challenge as she could muster.

His tentacles began to fidget. "You've quite a mouth on you, Elizabeth," he said, his voice becoming softer and a little more dangerous. There was a long pause during which Elizabeth wondered if she'd pushed too hard. "We might as well make good use of it. You're here, I'm not going to throw you to the dogs – I mean, crew – so…amuse me."

He gestured for her to sit down and she took a seat by the organ. "To be honest I'd prefer 'Miss Swann' until I know you a little better, if that's all right," she said stiffly, then shifted gears to see what response civilty would get. "Oh...this really is a beautiful instrument. Perhaps you'll play it for me later?"

He put his good hand on his hip and clicked his claw. "Perhaps. Now, Miss Swann: tell me a story."

Elizabeth pursed her lips thoughtfully. "What kind of story?"

"One I'll like." He glared at her. "And I had better like it!"

So far, Elizabeth was feeling pretty good. It seemed that in a conversation on a level playing field - with no leverage on either side - she and the dreaded Davy Jones were fairly matched. She might not be able to charm him as well as she was hoping, but she would not be pushed around, either. So long as he never got the opportunity to offer her one of his devil's bargains, nor got power over someone she cared about, she thought she could handle him.

Elizabeth suddenly had a wonderful idea. She didn't expect to lose any sleep over the demise of Lord Beckett, but Norrington was a friend who had had a lot of very rough luck. Even taking into account the role he had played in Jack's death, she felt more pity than anger towards him now, and was not happy that Captain Squid here had asked for his head. Perhaps she could get him to rescind the order, if she told the Commodore's story well enough.

"I don't know what you'll like," she started tentatively, "But I certainly have a story you'll understand." She took a deep breath.

"Once upon a time there was a man." She watched him closely but the deformed face was very hard to read. "He was engaged to a woman he thought he loved. Was it true love? Hard to say."

Using the truth as a very vague outline, Elizabeth carefully crafted a story where the woman, owing her life to another man, convinced her noble fiancé to help her save him when he was in danger. In the end the woman unexpectedly ran off with this other person, leaving the fiancé bitter. "He lost his whole life," she said with real sadness in her voice. "He became absolutely obsessed with hunting this wife-thief, this…well, pirate… and chased him across the seven seas. He pursued him into a hurricane, and had the lives of all his men on his conscience when they sank. He lost everything – including his love for her and even his honor. You of all people know what lengths people can be pushed to when they're desperate enough." She took a deep breath, not sure whether or not she had hooked Jones in sufficiently to drop the bomb. She compromised. "In the end he did something terrible, in an effort to regain part of what he had lost. He has betrayed everything he held dear, has been abandoned by the people who used to care about him, and will live out his life cold and alone. Not a very happy story, is it?"

Jones was sitting very still and erect, hands on his knees. "And this…woman… did she feel nothing for what she had done?"

"She didn't know until it was too late," Elizabeth whispered, surprised to notice tears beginning to close her throat. Tears? But it wasn't even a true story, for heaven's sake, she'd made herself into a hussy and rolled Jack and Will into one character! "And when she saw him again, he was not the man she remembered. He had done something awful and she couldn't forgive him for it."

"Is that so." His voice had gone cold and she suddenly knew he had recognized the tale as an autobiography. "And what, if you please, was so awful as to lose him the respect of even a woman vile enough to break vows that should've lasted until the end of time? Hmmm?"

Still not certain if she had pulled it off, Elizabeth played for time: "Why do you care?"

"Because I wonder: what goes on in the head of a woman? In her heart, if she has one? I must say I sympathize with your friend - he's a brother to me. So tell me, Miss Swann... just how far did you judge too far for even a desperate person to go?"

She went for it. "To buy back some of his reputation, his honor in other people's eyes," she explained carefully, "he stole his brother's heart and handed it over to the King."

Elizabeth braced for his eruption.

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TBC.

I know I haven't been giving Jack his fair share of coverage. He's just a little worn out from being dead, that's all. He'll be back in his groove in no time!

Much thanks to everybody who's reviewed. I really appreciate the comments! (Especially the one which mentioned Jack the monkey - I like Jack and i have something special planned for him.)