"Er…hello?" Jack hazarded.

Jones snorted. "Enjoy your last few minutes – I'm not dealing with you now. I have some things to discuss first. With her. In private."

Thrilled to see Barbossa alive, Elizabeth had been chatting away with him. But when Jones said something about discussing things with her, Barbossa stopped talking and looked away. She frowned. "What did you tell him?" she hissed, trying not to jump to conclusions.

But Jones was too close now and he would overhear, so Barbossa just shrugged.

Jones took her aside. He was going to speak to her right there up on deck, which made Elizabeth extremely happy – she wasn't quite feeling up to another encounter in his lair just yet. "Yes?"

"You. Lied. To me."

"I didn't lie," she answered before she even knew what he was talking about.

"About your Navy man."

Oh. "That...that wasn't a lie," she protested, not sounding convincing even to herself. "I mean, you didn't ask for the truth. You asked for a story."

"Be that as it may, you got me thinking." He stared into her face. "I can't imagine what would make you put yourself in harm's way for him."

She shrugged. "I liked him. I honestly did feel badly about leaving him. And you were going to kill him for no good reason." He hesitated, so Elizabeth took the initiative. "Speaking of people you killed for no good reason…what are you going to do to Jack?"

"Ah, yes, Jack," he said as though he'd forgotten. "I'm going to make him wish he'd stayed in the Kraken's belly." He raised his voice without looking. "Brig!"

Jack mouthed help! as two fish-people dragged him away. "Beckett's going to want him back, remember?" Elizabeth said.

"Beckett is going to be dead, remember?"

Elizabeth tried something else. "Well, it's hardly fair, you're not giving him a sporting chance," she complained. "Why not at least let him play you at Deception for it?" Barbossa had told her that Jack was absolutely unbeatable.

But perhaps Jones had heard the same legends - he didn't bite. "Jack was given me as a gift," he reminded her. "He's got nothing to wager, I already own him."

Barbossa decided it was time to get involved before Elizabeth got in over her head. "Would you just tell us what you have planned for him?" he asked, annoyed. "Before she gets all worked up for nothing."

Jones turned to him. "I want Sparrow's life and whatever comes beyond," he answered. "But I'll let you two play me for it, if you like." He could practically smell their indecision and their fear. Would they really be willing to risk everything - their very souls - for Jack bloody Sparrow?

Elizabeth spoke first. "I do owe Jack a life," she reminded Barbossa slowly.

"Well I don't. If anything, Jack owes one to me."

"I know I can't ask you to-"

"That's right, you can't," he said shortly. He saw that she was about to cry.

"But I think we can win," she whispered.

He wasn't so sure, but he was sure that if she tried to play on her own, without her sneaky trick of last time, she would lose. And then he, of course, would have to play Jones solo, because he couldn't just leave her here to a fate he wouldn't even wish on meddlesome old Bill Turner. He, too, would lose – neither of them alone was a match for Davy Jones.

"I agree we should help Jack out, but I don't agree that betting for it is the best idea. Davy, what else can we offer you?"

Jones laughed. "Nothing."

Right. He was sure that given a few minutes to think they could come up with something. "Then how much time can we take to think about it?"

"None," Jones answered immediately, sick of cutting these people slack. "We play here and now, or I go below and hack Sparrow to pieces. Very slowly."

Elizabeth seized Barbossa's arm. "Captain, no! We can't let him-"

Barbossa shook her off. He wanted to rake her over the coals for her behavior; Jones now had excellent leverage over them both and knew it. She had put them in a terrible position. It was as rash as something Will Turner might have done. But he knew that if he shouted at her it would only make her nervous… And considering she would be his ally in the game he was about to play, where his eternal life itself was at stake...he wanted her at her best.

"All right," he said, "Here and now, Davy Jones, let's play."

He gave Elizabeth a smile, and was mildly reassured when she smiled back. They could do this. Maybe.

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"One three," said Barbossa, who had no threes.

"Two fives," said Elizabeth, who only had one.

Davy Jones had all ones and threes. "Three twos."

They all looked at each other for a moment. Barbossa took a deep breath and started "F-" then paused. "Three fours."

Elizabeth noted how he had started to say "four" and then changed to "three." Probably, she reasoned, that meant he had considered bluffing and then played it safe. If he actually had three fours, then, since she had three herself, six fours should be a safe bet. "Six fours."

Barbossa whipped around to face her before he could help himself. Six fours? What in God's name was she thinking, making such a crazy guess already? Even if she had five herself... he had none, and how could they know what Jones was holding...

Jones caught his panicked look and laughed softly. "It appears we've found ourselves a bluff already. Elizabeth Swann, you're lying, and you lose." That quickly, he flipped all the cups, and it was over.

Elizabeth's stomach dropped out. No. Nononono. She sank down in her seat and put her head in her hands. Someone - Barbossa, presumably - put a hand on the back of her neck, but it was as cold and clammy as she was, and not very reassuring.

The world spun. "I'm fainting," she mumbled. She fainted.

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Barbossa caught her, dazed himself. "Well, well," Jones said. "And now, are you going to do the noble thing, and offer to trade me yourself for her?"

"Absolutely not," Barbossa answered right away. He felt physically sick; it was his mistake that had cost them the game and now Elizabeth was going to pay for it. But better her than me, he reminded himself. "You know how I feel about this ship; you know that's not a possibility." He paused. "But I'd trade you something for her. What do you want?" Elizabeth seemed to be waking up, and although Barbossa deemed it unwise to pet her hair he couldn't help it.

Jones banged his claw down on the table. "I want all of you, because you all make me ill!" Elizabeth cowered even further into Barbossa's arms, which made things worse. "Now let go of her – she belongs to me!"

He gestured to two fish-people, who pried Elizabeth up and pulled her away. She was whimpering and trying to hang on.

Enough was enough! "You stay right there," Barbossa barked to the fishmen. They froze for a second, looking to Jones for orders. "That was a mistake, Davy," he drawled. "I might've been able to walk away, but now you've gone and woken up me…protective instincts. I must say, that was a bad idea." He reached for his knife and told the man with a puffer-fish head: "She goes back where ye found her, or I'll pop ye."

Jones nodded for the puffer-fish-man to obey, then scooped up his dice and put them in his cup. "Bad idea yourself, Barbossa" he snapped, both glad and annoyed at this new development. He laughed. "Now you're putting your own soul on the line. I hate to insult you, but it's something Will Turner might have done."

"Unless I'm mis-recallin something, Will Turner got the best of you last time," Barbossa reminded mildly. "Now, I'll play on the one condition: Elizabeth plays too. You beat either one of us and you win. If I beat you, you lose her, Jack, and me as well."

Elizabeth roused herself enough to gasp, "No, Captain, I lost the last one, I'll only throw you off-"

"Shh. I want you to play." Davy Jones would absorb every word, he knew, so all he told her was, "You'll be fine. Just remember what I told ye about bein cautious."

He set her on her chair and loaded her dice for her. Elizabeth was frowning and thinking. She always listened when Barbossa talked to her, she ate up every word. But cautious? She was sure he had neversaid anything about being cautious. What did he mean now?

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Elizabeth started out. "T-two twos," she said quietly. Staring downwards at her cup.

Jones laughed at her newfound timidity. Cautious indeed! She was so rattled she would probably refuse to take any risks at all. That would make this very easy for him. "Three twos," he said. He was playing conservatively. No bluffing this time, just playing it straight and waiting. Barbossa was so nervous it took him serious effort not to throw up all over the Deception board, and he was not doing a good job of hiding it. The first lie he told, Jones would pounce on him and it would all be over.

Barbossa glanced over at Elizabeth. She was staring at him, holding her breath.

He stared back. What's in your head?

Apparently, Jones had swallowed the garbage he had spewed about "caution." Jones must believe Elizabeth was being cautious and telling the truth, or he would have called her liar immediately. Therefore, his prediction of three two's included the two he believed Elizabeth had.

Now, Elizabeth might be terrified, and confused by a hint that made no sense, but Barbossa would like to believe he had taught her better than to tell Davy Jones the truth in the very first round. This wasn't Will Turner he was playing with, after all! Elizabeth knew his game, and had been setting Jones up.

He hoped.

Barbossa spread his hands out flat on the table, to stop them shaking, and leaned forward. "You're a liar, Davy."

Jones snorted. "We'll see about that." He reached out and flipped over Barbossa's cup. No twos there. He flipped up his own: four fours and a two. Barbossa couldn't watch as Elizabeth's dice were revealed.

She did it herself.

3...3...1...2...1.

Barbossa's eyes were still closed when she launched herself at him to give him a hug.

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"Now, I own Jack Sparrow. Let him out, Davy, would you?" Barbossa said over Elizabeth's shoulder. She was still shaking.

Jack was brought up. He took in the strange scene: dice scattered everywhere, fish-people in a speechless crowd, Elizabeth gathered up in a weepy heap on Barbossa's lap. "Um."

"You're a free man, Jack," Barbossa said wearily.

"Was I not?" But he saw the glare and got serious. "All right then. What now – where are we going?"

"I've no idea," Barbossa answered. "You're going to sit down with Davy, tell him what's going on, and plan out our next move. Now," he added, when Jack seemed reluctant. Jack and Davy went below, the both of them unusually docile.

Barbossa knew there would be a real earful for him later, but for now he was glad that everybody had just gone away and left him alone.

An hour later, when Jack and Davy Jones had come back up on deck, he was still so drained that he barely registered Davy's instructions: "I'll have to take us down, it's faster. So get you to the dry room – the three of you."

He let Jack and Elizabeth propel him down the ladder and to the door. Jones opened it and ushered them inside. "Sweet dreams, duckies," he growled, slamming the door and locking it.

Barbossa looked around. Three people. One bed – his bed. Like hell was he going to be robbed of it! He felt for his knife.

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TBC.

Apologies for the chapter being short. The next one is longer and a damn sight sillier, too. I've decided about Beckett's fate in the end. I think I like him more than I used to. The jury is still out on Davy Jones, though.

Leave me some love! And look out tomorrow for the co-ed slumber party update. Hehe, I'm excited.