The party boat dropped anchor far outside hearing distance of the Pearl, and the festivities began in earnest.

At first, feeling a little out of his element, Will stood on the outskirts of the rowdiest groups and just watched it all happen. Soon someone came up to him and clapped him on the back. "Well, boy?"

It was Barbossa. Will was surprised to have been sought out; after their little scuffle in the hold they had been giving each other even more distance than usual. "These people are even wilder than Tortuga. I've never seen anything like it," he admitted.

"No? Who raised you?"

Will looked up, surprised. "My mother."

Barbossa nodded. "It shows."

Will didn't see anything objectionable in the pirate's smile, but as always he was wary and thought perhaps he was being made fun of. Who raised YOU? he wanted to ask. A pack of wolves? That shows, too. He caught himself in time, and didn't.

But it turns out he wasn't far off the mark. Staring into his drink, Barbossa volunteered: "Me, I was raised on a pirate ship. Raised by two dozen men with a very vested interest in how fast and strong they could grow me up." He looked up at Will. His smile turned a little dark. "I suppose that shows, too."

The one time he had managed to think before speaking, and it turned out it didn't even matter! Barbossa had made the comment himself. Will shrugged and laughed a little. "Sorry."

"Don't be - twas a fine way to spend a boyhood."

Except it's made you totally unfit for civilized company and unable to win a lady if your life depended on it. Will coughed. Perhaps thinking before speaking had some benefits after all. He thought up something better to say aloud. "Must have been exciting, at least."

"Aye." Barbossa poured him another drink and they toasted to the hope that Will's children would grow up with a full set of parents and would turn out the better for it. "You've done well for yourself, though, boy," Barbossa assured after a moment. "Perhaps a little soft for my taste, but well on the whole."

Will found this hilarious. Must be the rum. "Attila the Hun would probably be a little soft for your taste, Captain," he gasped out amidst his crazy laughter. "But thank you."

Barbossa knew he had timed the conversation perfectly - the boy was sober enough that he wouldn't forget it by morning, but hazy enough not to start wondering why the captain was being so nice to him.

Part of the reason, in fact, was simply that Barbossa was feeling buzzed and mellow and unusually magnanimous. The other part, though, the part that he didn't want to share, was that he knew he owed an apology for the way he had behaved down the hold. The line about Elizabeth running off to World's End (while it was an excellent line and probably true) was unnecessarily cruel, and childish in the extreme. Barbossa counted himself lucky that the boy hadn't thought to answer, Go on and make your remarks about Elizabeth while you can; in a few days she's coming home with me and you'll never see her again. That would have been equally true, and cruel, and childish - and Turner hadn't said it.

After he'd paid the boy a compliment and poured him a drink and made him laugh, he felt a little less beholden, and went off to share his good mood by pouring wine for Jack the monkey.

Half an hour later Jack (the pirate) clapped his hands for order and everyone, severely tipsy by now, put down their dice and cards and knives and whatever else they were playing with to listen. "I have a surprise for everyone," he slurred, falling all over himself as he tried to climb up on a box. There was a loud cheer. "It's a form of entertainment." An even louder cheer. Jack waited for it to die down. "It's a girl."

The roar was deafening. Even Davy Jones was drunk enough to cheer and throw slime through the air.

Will tried to get up from his seat. "Oh, no, Jack, really, I -hic-"

Half a dozen hands pulled him back down again. "Oh, come off it, boy," Barbossa growled into his ear. "If Elizabeth were here she'd be cheerin and drinkin right up with the best of 'em. That be the truth and you know it." He didn't realize he was holding his bottle at such an angle that he was pouring rum down the back of Will's shirt while he talked. Will, still soaking wet from his swim with Davy, didn't notice either.

The door to Davy's cabin burst open and out came the most bizarrely-clad woman Will had ever seen.

Her skirt was short - it came barely halfway down her calves - but voluminous. It was made of seaweed. On top of her white bodice, all she wore was layers upon layers of a cut-up fishnet. Her hair was loose, a thick mass of curls that dripped over her shoulders (but somehow, despite the much-needed cover they offered her throat and chest, they made her seem more rather than less indecent). She was made up more colorfully than the women of Tortuga, so much so that he could see her rouge even by the poor light of Davy's torches.

He stared into her face. "Charlotte?"

"Aye." She tipped him a huge stage wink and climbed up onto a table. "The best I could do with what I had at hand, gentlemen, what do you say?"

She strutted around the table, calling for more cheers and inspiring more toasts. "And now," she said after a moment, "In honor of the groom-to-be... let us have a dance!"

The pirates started a drunken, completely unintelligible chorus of some burlesque song, stomping and clapping to help keep the beat. Charlotte, clearly no novice, took up her skirts in her hand and started an equally bawdy dance right there on the table.

Will watched her whirl and kick and, though he did not attempt to lean forward and get underneath her for the best possible view the way most of the pirates did, he had to admit he liked what he saw. She would pause sometimes and slowly divest herself of one of the layers she wore on top. Considering they were all fishnet and thus completely see-through, it didn't do much in a practical sense. But it drove the men wild. They were whistling and singing and drinking and the torches had begun to dance around the edges of Will's vision.

Charlotte eventually kneeled down on the table in front of Will and put her hands on his shoulders. The pirates - and some of the uniformed men, too - started to chant "Kiss, kiss, kiss..."

So she leaned forward and rubbed the tip of her nose against his. "That's how bumblebees kiss," she explained, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

The filthy remarks that followed were so numerous and slurred that Will could hardly make out any of them. He heard, "We want to see how snakes kiss, show us that tongue!" but that was about it.

Charlotte did not at all seem offended. On the contrary, she winked and pouted and made eyes at everyone, seeming to have a more wonderful time the rowdier her audience became.

Eventually Charlotte decided that it was her bedtime. Davy escorted her to the dry room - or, more accurately, she escorted him, since he could no longer even lumber in a straight line. Then he came back and herded everyone into the organ chamber. "I was in here once," Will explained as Davy sat down to play. "I was robbing him."

He blinked. Why had he said that? Ah, yes, the rum. "Why's the floor tilted?"

Jack was suddenly next to him. He handed Will a fresh bottle and Will chugged down a quarter of it at a go. "That's why," Jack answered, before falling against a wall himself.

Although Davy was totally wasted his beard was not, and it played a wonderful pirate song with hardly any mistakes. The few mistakes that did happen were a result of the beard's owner letting his head fall forward to smash against the keyboard, making the room vibrate with the sounds of an ogre belching after a big meal.

Everyone was singing again, and Will discovered he was singing too - although it was a song he had never heard before. He shook Jack excitedly. "Lissn, Jack, I know all the words! I've never heard this song and, and I know allawords!" He started singing to demonstrate.

"Wonnerful!" Jack tried to give him a hug but ended up giving one to Norrington instead. "Perfect, Will, you're doing perfect!" He realized it was not Will he was draped over and withdrew. "Ah, sorry, mate."

"Jack Sparrow," Norrington slurred happily. He threw his arm over Jack's shoulders.

"'Avin a good time, are we?"

"Yyyeh." He smiled up into Jack's face from a distance of about two inches. "I liiiiiike you. I didn't used to, notatall."

A much more experienced drinker, Jack was able to manage a fairly clear mumble: "Mmm, yes I know. Rather got that idea from the whole, you know... murder incident."

Norrington just looked confused. "Sparrow, I like you," he repeated at last, firmly. "I am having alotta fun. Evrrrnn plays games wthh me."

"You can call me Jack, y'know. It's only fair. Me, when I kill somebody, I always call them by their first name afterwards. S'good manners."

Norrington wanted to lean closer to whisper a secret, but they were already so close that he ended up with a mouthful of Jack's hair and thus his speech was even more unintelligible than it had been. "Vrrynn calls LLizzbt by hers, nnn Idun likit."

Jack grinned, having no trouble understanding thanks to the helpful liquid translation device coursing through him. "You don't like it? Now why's that?"

Norrington pulled away and though his eyes weren't focused he managed a fairly offended look anyhow. "Because it's, ohh, snot rrrspectful. Ydonn see... anyone... even you... evennobody calls Brrrboza by his."

"His is Hector. Butsha can't use it," Jack warned quickly. "I did once. He just picked me up, jusslike that, mate, and threw me straight over the side. Y'wudden believe it." Jack was shaking his head as though, years later, it still amazed him. At that moment the pirate song ended, and in the sudden lull everyone heard Jack repeat, "Threw me overboard."

Another moment of silence. "Yes!" Will shouted from across the room. "Let's throw Jack overboard!"

Loud cheers greeted the suggestion. Jack cringed against the wall and pulled Norrington in front of him as a human shield. "Nonono, c'mon, boys, I can't swim," he invented. "No no no really it's cold, oh please really, really no..."

Many hands - not all of them human - began pulling him from the wall and carrying him up on deck. Jack grabbed at furniture and doorways and people along the way, clinging to whatever he could reach, but to no avail. "Cmon please, snot very nice, not nice at all mate, c'mon boys put me down, really put me down, we're avin such a nice time-" he babbled. Everyone was laughing, and no one paid him the slightest mind at all.

He picked Barbossa out of the crowd and tried to wriggle towards him. "C'mon mate, I wouldn't do this to you."

"More fool you, then," Barbossa chuckled. He waved goodbye as Jack was carried past. "Off you go."

Jack felt himself lifted in the air. "Whoa." The world was already spinning but now it was spinning much faster, and he squinted to see anything besides blurs of lights and-

A blinding, jarring crash.

Jack gasped and was suddenly drowning. Aha - he'd hit the water. Better not do any more gasping - he was overboard.

Feeling much soberer now, Jack fought to the surface and coughed up the water he'd taken in. He looked up in the direction of the catcalls and laughter. "Not! Funny!" he shouted, knowing perfectly well that it would be funny, if it were only someone else instead of him.

He just hoped there were no sharks.

Like Norrington, Will was having a wonderful time. He too was completely fascinated with the noise and disorder and the ability to behave with a perfect lack of inhibition. He thought it was great fun to throw Jack overboard, and nearly fell over the railing himself because he was leaning so far down to shout, "Howsa water down there?"

But after a few moments of watching the bobbing blur that was Jack's white shirt, Will's drunk brain finally cranked out the thought: We can't leave him there forever. He sighed and started to fumble with the laces of his boots.

He had taken off everything except his pants before somebody noticed. "Hey, Marryin' Man, what're you doing?"

Will meant to say, I'm going to go fish Jack out, but he was so drunk he just told them, "Ingwing fishing." They laughed. He frowned and added, "for Jack," but they still didn't seem to get it. It didn't occur to him that if he couldn't see and couldn't speak, he probably couldn't swim right now either. He lurched towards the railing but fell to his knees halfway there. Fine. Not a problem - I'll crawl.

But someone stopped him from crawling, too. "Easy, Will," a voice growled in his ear. "'Sbad luck for the groom to risk his life on the night before the wedding. Stay here - I'll go."

Will recognized the voice after a moment's thought. "Gibbs?"

"Aye. Stay here, boy, I'll take care of it. You're too drunk to swim."

Will didn't open his eyes because he thought that keeping them closed was the best way to stop the ship from heaving. "Y-you're drunk too."

Gibbs laughed. "No more'n usual." Sure enough, he seemed to have no trouble whatsoever knotting a rope and tying himself on for good measure and letting himself down the side of the Pearl.

Barbossa was watching this exchange and was feeling a little growly about it. Unplanned swim or not, he thought, tonight Jack was a lucky man. The guest of honor was fighting for the privilege of descending into the dark, cold ocean to pull him out. Gibbs was prepared to go if Will couldn't, and several other pirates were also edging towards the railing in case they were needed.

And Barbossa knew that if all else failed, he would probably end up going over himself. Jack had more people watching his back than he knew what to do with.

As always, drinking had made the captain introspective. Wonder who'd go over for me, he thought, after deliberately telling himself not to think it. Other than possibly Jack? Hmm. Ah, but nobody'd dare throw me over in the first place - that's got to count for something.

Still, some perverse urge had him scanning the crowd to see if there was someone he'd forgotten. He felt a small prick of disappointment - there wasn't. But there was a former Commodore watching the rescue happen with a similar thoughtful frown, and they happened to meet eyes and Barbossa snarled at him from across the deck. I will NOT have somethin in common with that peacock, he told himself.

Norrington seemed to share the sentiment - he turned on his heel and marched off to stand among Davy's fishpeople, the one place where he would be sure not to cross paths with the pirate again.

A few minutes later Gibbs came back into view, climbing the rope with a shivering Jack Sparrow draped over his shoulders.

"Curse ya for the ten poundsa grog y'just packed on," they heard him complain.

"Think I can help you with that," Jack slurred. He turned a little to the side and threw up a mess of rum and seawater. "Better?"

"Aye, much." In fact it didn't help at all, but fortunately the people on deck finally took it into their heads to help pull them aboard.

Jack stood up and shook himself off like a doggie, spraying water all over the rest of the party. "Wh-where's Turner!" he demanded, one hand on his hip and the other making threatening gestures in various directions. He finally spotted Will, who was wearing only his pants and Davy Jones's huge hat. "Aha!" Jack lurched over and threw his arm over Will's shoulders. "I'm going to g-g-get you for that, mate," he promised, teeth chattering.

But the wet hug set off a huge fit of shivers in Will, which disturbed his already-fragile equilibrium. He yarked all over everything within a three-foot radius. Including Jack.

Jack looked around for sympathy, but instead someone handed him rum. He supposed it would do. He bowed to acknowledge all the laughter aimed his way, then tottered off to join the leapfrog game that Norrington had started with a few of Davy's fishpeople.

At daybreak they sailed up and lay a plank over from the Dutchman to the Pearl and everyone stumbled on home. Will wore only his pants and a capelike garment made out of a fishnet.

Jack wore his boots and belt and hat and in fact most of his accessories... the only things he was lacking were pants and a shirt.

Norrington (sans wig - the anemone growing on one of Davy's crew had eaten it) escorted Charlotte, who was wrapped up in his coat for decency's sake.

Everyone else was more or less completely dressed. Nobody really knew for certain what had happened in the wee hours of the morning, which was as it should be. They all lurched on down the hold, cursing the sunlight, and collapsed to sleep it off.

Everyone was very glad it was to be an afternoon wedding.

TBC. Geez, these announcements get longer and longer:

Pub crawl: Yep, Jack would approve... although with him, by the end of the night you'd probably be literally crawling. I never crawled, I think I mostly maintained a slow and dignified stagger.

Review! Really, do, I mean it! We're almost down to the very end. All that's left is the wedding day... and I think it'll be a hell of a wedding.

Preview: There'll be kissing - some but not all of it is for Will. Elizabeth and Barbossa will have words one more time. Governor Swann will overhear some things he shouldn't and may narrowly escape a heart attack as a result. Sounds good? C'mon, you know you want to see Will kiss the bride, the poor kid has waited so long! Leave me some love.

Deleted Scenes: On the day I post the last chapter I'm also going to post a "deleted scenes" reel, since there are some things I wrote that just didn't fit in but I still love them. Convincing Barbossa to sit still for Doctor Davy is one of them. Will getting his butt kicked for insubordination is another. That sort of thing.