They got up on deck and Elizabeth tsked reproachfully when she noticed that Barbossa's nose was bleeding. "As if you had lots to spare today." She ripped a strip from Norrington's dressing gown and held his nose closed. "Tilt your head back... that's right."

He was now at a very unimposing angle, but he still tried to glare at her. "Shouldn't you be seeid instead to the cubfort of Bister Turner?"

"It seems to me he's doing fine - all the damage is here on your side," she said mischievously. "Oh, well, you can't win them all."

"Biserable wench." He shooed her away and, holding his own nose closed now, took a quick look around to be sure that any eavesdroppers had registered her comment as affectionate teasing rather than insubordination. Things looked all right, so he turned back to the young couple just in time to see Elizabeth spin around to show Will the damage.

Elizabeth peeked over her shoulder. "Well? What do you think?"

Will stared. Even the pirates' most dire insinuations hadn't prepared him for this. This went well beyond "scarred." Elizabeth, his Elizabeth, had not just been permanently disfigured, she had been branded as a bloody pirate. In Will's eyes the brand was the epitome of shame and a mark of dishonor that could never be lived down or washed off…

Fortunately, he was too shocked to say or do anything just yet. His momentary paralysis gave him time to register Elizabeth's reaction. And it was clear that what she was after was not commiseration or comfort after a horrifying ideal.

There was a tiny smile playing at the corners of her mouth. It was as though she wanted to be congratulated.

"What do I think? I think-" He whirled on Barbossa. "She asked you for this."

"She agreed, yes," Barbossa answered nonchalantly, checking the rag in his hand to see if he was still bleeding. "You'd best watch your tone."

As if he had any intention of reproaching Elizabeth for the way she had been so shamefully mutilated! Oh, he was enraged all right, but the throat he was itching to grab again was not hers. He now knew firsthand how good it felt to pounce and squeeze and God knew the corrupting bastard deserved it…

Will held still and took a deep breath before speaking again. He would not fly off the handle this time. First he would think things through. (And then maybe he would go for the jugular.) Elizabeth obviously saw the brand not as a punishment but as a decoration. And as a decoration – if he could forget its disgraceful implications – there was really nothing wrong with the little P on her shoulder, was there? Anyway, the important thing was that she was fine. Fine, and happy to boot. Right?

He felt simultaneously relieved for her and horrified on her behalf. But if she had taken the brand voluntarily then the horror would probably offend her, so he steeled himself to give voice only to his relief. "Elizabeth, it's lovely," he said at last. "Or rather, you're lovely with it. But these two pirates..." (he slapped Jack in the back of the head and only just barely didn't dare do it to Barbossa) "...should burn in Hell for the way they worried me. God, I'm so glad you're all right. Come here."

She went into his arms and the crowd, sensing that the drama was all over, began to disperse. "Oh! Will, I forgot - did you ask him about the wedding?"

Barbossa frowned and said, "Ask me what?" at the same time Jack smiled and nudged Will and whispered, "Told you so."

Will laughed helplessly and extricated himself from her embrace. "No, I'm afraid it didn't quite come up." He turned to the captain. "This may be an odd time to ask given we were just trying to kill each other and I'm considering trying to kill you again, but... Elizabeth and I are going to be married on the Pearl... and I was wondering if you'd stand in for my father."

Barbossa looked from Will to Elizabeth and back again. He blew his nose to be sure he could talk clearly this time, then: "It would be an honor."

"Splendid!" Jack danced around shaking hands with everyone delightedly. Governor Swann looked like a giant had come down out of the sky and stepped on his house, but Jack threw his arm around him anyhow. "Congratulations, Governor! We're going to have a wedding! This calls for a drink, doesn't it?"

Swann looked over at him, dazed. "Yes, Captain Sparrow," he murmured. "I believe it does."

Elizabeth asked to wait for the wedding until they were just a day or two off Port Royal. She pretended that it was because she wanted her first week of married life to be in a proper place instead of on a crowded pirate ship, but in fact her reasoning was much more practical: her burned shoulder hurt so badly there was no way she would be able to put a dress on over it just yet.

So they sailed on, the ship surprisingly peaceful given the number of rival factions aboard. Elizabeth was healing. So were most of the people who had been hurt in the wild battles. Except Barbossa - he was getting steadily worse, his injury severely infected and constantly oozing a fishy sort of pus that, in his humble opinion, was not at all natural and heralded bad things. But he told himself it would probably be all right, since they were going to see Tia Dalma as soon as they dropped off all their law-abiding passengers and captives at Port Royal. He was sure she would have something useful for him; she always did.

Besides, Jack didn't look too worried either, and Barbossa took that as a good sign. He was becoming more and more of the opinion that if his life were in danger, Jack would be trying to do something about it. And as far as he knew (which wasn't very far, but of course he couldn't know that) Jack was doing nothing. So he just bandaged it up and stumbled about the ship for a few days in a haze brought on partly by pain and partly by rum, enjoying the good weather whenever his head was clear enough for it.

On the night before the wedding, Will was so keyed up that there was no possibility he would sleep, so he offered to stand watch on deck while most everyone else got their rest.

Things were going normally until he felt a little tug on his coat...

"Captain Will?"

Will had long since given up on correcting the boy. "You're up late, matey," he observed.

Albert tugged again, so Will squatted down to be eye level. "Aye?"

"I...um... I had a bad dream."

"You did?" Will almost asked why the boy hadn't run to his mother, then remembered that he was at an age where running to one's mother was the peak of shame. He sat down on the deck and patted the spot next to him. "Come tell me all about it."

"I... um..." The poor boy was so nervous he could hardly get the words out. Finally he burst out: "In my dream I couldn't sleep an I came out here an I wanted a drink." He had to pause for breath. "I was just... um... standing there. There," he added, pointing to a spot on the railing. "And I dreamed that all of a sudden a ugly ship came out of the water - like a fish jumping out! From under the water! And I wasn't scared," he emphasized. "Because I'm never, ever scared of dreams. But anyway I closed my eyes just in case. An I opened them again an I looked at it oh so careful! And, and, and..." he scooted very close to Will and lowered his voice. "And there was a, a monster watching me from the ugly ship! He was a seamonster man! And he went like this-" Albert brought his finger to his lips in a shhhh gesture, "-and went away again. And it was so foggy I couldn't see the ship no more, and, and plus maybe my eyes were closed, and when I opened them up again the ugly ship was gone! It was a really bad dream, Captain Will. I didn't like the monsterman."

"I'll bet you didn't," Will murmured, trying to stare through the mist. "Listen...Albert... think very carefully for me. Had you ever seen the monsterman before this, er, dream?" He couldn't remember whether the child had been locked up safely away for the entire battle, or whether he might have caught a glimpse of Davy then. Because if he hadn't, then his perfect description of Davy's ship could only mean that it actually had surfaced and was even now prowling around them...

"Nope, never ever. And I hope I never see him again! Because he, um, he smelled bad!"

"Smelled bad?" Will stood up. "How do you know what he smelled like?"

"I, um, I, um, um, I don't know," Albert stuttered. "I guess it, it was a smelly dream, but, but I still wasn't scared of it."

"Right. Get below to where it's safe, right now, Albert, all right? You're doing fine, mate, just stay awake for a few minutes and make sure nobody else comes out on deck, can you do that for me?"

"I should guard the door?"

"Yes. Go now." Will herded him off the way he had come and then went to the railing alone.

Why did everything bad always happen on his watch? Will strained to see in the darkness but couldn't make out anything at all. Unless... no, that was probably seaweed. Well... He hated to wake everyone up for nothing. If only he could see a little better...

He suddenly remembered that Barbossa had left him his spyglass. Excellent. He whipped it out and opened it to take a look.

Instantly he was enveloped in somebody's very wet and smelly full-body embrace. His arms were pinned to his sides by a grip strong enough to lift him from his feet. Something slimy was around his neck and a cold, clammy tentacle was covering his mouth. He tried to scream but of course nothing could be heard.

"Evening, Master Turner," came the low voice in his ear. Davy loosed his hold on Will's neck and face for just a moment, and Will reflexively gasped in all the air he could hold. Then Davy cinched up again - but this time, he covered not only Will's mouth but his nose as well.

Very bad. Will thrashed and twisted what few inches he could, completely consumed with panic, until his face smashed into an icy brick wall. At the same instant, his eyes exploded with pain and his entire body became cold and wet.

He tried to thrash around some more and then realized that they were under water. Davy Jones had grabbed him and gone straight over the edge headfirst into the freezing ocean.

Underwater. In that case perhaps it was time to stop trying to chew through the tentacle over his mouth, as he wouldn't be able to breathe anyway. At least the gag would stop him from taking in water. It was also perhaps time to stop struggling, as while Davy Jones was undoubtedly an excellent swimmer, it made no sense to make it harder for him. The longer it took to get where they were going, the less likely Will would be to survive it.

Davy was using his legs and most tentacles to move through the water, which left Will's legs free. Will kicked, and when Davy realized he was helping, he released the punishing grip on Will's neck and held him only by the mouth-and-nose-plug and one arm around his waist.

"Almost there."

Will could hear him perfectly, but for obvious reasons couldn't answer. Almost WHERE, he might have demanded. What purpose could kidnapping him serve now?

He went cold(er). Revenge? Was Davy still sore over the near-detour onto the shores of Isla Cruces?

But before he could work it all out he found himself getting very dizzy and feeling sick.

Davy spoke again. "You'll last longer if you just go limp." A moment later, half to himself, he muttered, "Your friend Barbossa knows all about that."

If Will had been more together he might have thought to wonder when on earth the captain could have told Davy Jones his near-drowning story. He might have thought to wonder why the devil the Pearl's lookout had disappeared, or why Barbossa had left him his precious spyglass for no apparent reason.

However, since he was practically unconscious, he didn't think any of these things.

So when Davy hauled him dripping wet up the side of the Dutchman and dumped him on the deck amidst a crowd of pirates and friends who were cheering and shouting "SURPRISE!" ...

He really was surprised.

Will stood up and wrung out his hair, relieved and outraged and excited all at once. "I don't believe this. I don't believe you people! Where's Jack?" He picked him out easily enough even in the near-dark of the Dutchman. "There you are. All your idea, isn't it."

"No comment." Jack threw his arm around Will and handed him a bottle of rum that was already half-empty. "This is your last night of freedom, mate. Best enjoy it while you can, eh?"

Will saw Barbossa. "And you approved this?"

The captain shrugged. "I'd like to assure ye that Jack throws a good party, but I must admit I've yet to stay sober enough to even remember one." He grinned and took a long drink from a bottle of his own. "It is your last night. Best make it count."

Will looked over the guests. There were pirates, a few fish-people, soldiers who belonged to Beckett and to Norrington, civilians... but only, he realized a moment later, male ones. "I gather Elizabeth is not invited?"

A huge laugh went up. "Definitely not, mate," Jack explained over the noise, "This party is strictly for men… and eunuchs, of course. Everyone's invited, except the father of the bride, who probably oughtn't see what he's marrying his dear little girl to. Well? C'mon, son, drink up!"

TBC. The party's too long and I didn't want to break it in half. So next chapter we will see a pirate's bachelor party. I promise it'll be pretty bizarre.

Aren't we all proud of Will for feeling very strongly about something and not giving voice to it for a change! We'll see if he can keep up his good behavior.

Credits for this chapter: I don't know why, but the "SURPRISE" bit was definitely inspired by Labyrinth, when all of Sarah's friends come party with her at the end.

Credit for locating the bash on the Dutchman goes to Saishlyimna, who reminded me of Davy's mad organ skillz.