Elizabeth found him slumped against a coconut tree, passed out, and at first she thought he'd drunk himself silly. But when she tried to rouse Jack, he seemed dead. Elizabeth began to panic, and she shook him hard.

"Jack!" she exclaimed. "Jack, wake up!"

"Mmph." At last, he awoke, looking drowsy and bleary-eyed. He blinked slowly at Elizabeth and then gripped at his head. He stared up and then clamored away from the coconut palm against which he was leaning. "Damned coconuts."

"What happened?" demanded Elizabeth, and he jabbed a finger at a young, green coconut on the ground.

"Bloody coconut fell right on my skull is what happened," he declared. "Tried to kill me."

It was dawn now, the first grey light of morning, and the rain had long stopped. The clouds had cleared. Elizabeth had come looking for Jack after she'd awakened, him having abandoned the shelter in a huff, and now she murmured to him,

"You didn't have to leave, you know."

"Oh, yes I did, love," he replied. "Else something would have happened in there that we both would have regretted, savvy?"

Elizabeth frowned deeply. "I wouldn't have regretted anything."

Jack scoffed where he sat. He rolled his kohl-lined eyes and told her, "I don't think your dearest, most darling Commodore would have cared too much for the news that your pretty little hands had been all over my… man bits."

He waggled his fingers at Elizabeth, and she gasped, offended in more ways than one. She shook her head and asked,

"Why would he know about it?"

"Presumably because you would tell him." Jack flicked his eyes back and forth, apparently a bit confused. Elizabeth furrowed her brow again and snapped,

"And why would I tell him?"

Jack gulped visibly. "I dunno, love; it's just something I presumed."

"Well, you presumed wrongly," Elizabeth told him, crossing her arms where she knelt on the sand. "The secrets of this island are this island's to hold."

"Are they?" Jack smiled at her until his gold tooth showed, and he shook his head just a little. "You're braver than I thought, love."

She bristled just a little at that, but then Jack's face shifted into a look of consternation. He stared over Elizabeth's shoulder, and he said,

"Sorry, my dear, but this conversation must be postponed until a later occasion. We appear to have visitors."

"Visitors." Elizabeth whirled around and gasped loudly. There was a ship on the horizon.

"How could they possibly not see this?" Elizabeth demanded. She stared at the giant signal fire they'd built, using an entire downed coconut palm they'd dragged over and burned. The smoke was black, curling up into the sky, and Elizabeth knew that anyone on that ship with one eye would be able to see the blaze. So why was the ship sailing due on its course, still nearly gone off the horizon, not making any progress toward the island?

"What, are we invisible?" Elizabeth asked incredulously. Jack Sparrow shaded his eyes and stared at the ship, and he shrugged a little.

"Seems rather as though we are less than distinctly visible."

"Jack…" Elizabeth walked up next to him and brushed her hair out of her eyes. The wind was strong, and her knotted hair was blowing all over. She glared at his face as he took out his compass and opened it, and it spun until the arrow settled on Elizabeth. She frowned, and Jack slammed the compass shut and tucked it away. He gazed up at the ship and declared,

"Any minute now, they'll change course and sail this way to rescue us, love."

But they didn't. They disappeared over the horizon. They vanished less than an hour later. Elizabeth found herself standing there with prickling eyes, and she whispered,

"We really are invisible."

"Perhaps we are," Jack murmured. "I need rum."

"Jack!" Elizabeth followed him as he made his way to the grove where the rum was stored. She stormed after him and insisted, "It isn't possible, that we'd be invisible!"
"I suppose you would have thought it impossible to have immortal skeletons in the moonlight, before you saw them with your own pretty eyes, eh?" Jack said over his shoulder, and she knew what he meant. The Black Pearl was a mystical enough ship, and before she'd beheld it herself, she'd never believed that something so supernatural could exist. Perhaps something bizarre had happened when Captain Barbossa had marooned them on this island. Some Curse had been enacted, or some strange magical barrier had gone up around the perimeter of the island.

The Royal Navy hadn't seen Elizabeth's signal fire their second morning here, even though she knew they were all out searching for her. Now a passing vessel had come so close that they'd seen it with their naked eyes from the beach, and it had sailed right away even after they'd lit another large fire. What was going on? Why couldn't they draw ships near to this island? Were they truly invisible? Would they be trapped here indefinitely?

Elizabeth halted as Jack opened up the trap where the two crates of rum had been left.

"Jack," she said quietly. He'd descended into the cache and now looked up at her, peering over the edge. He raised his eyebrows, and she told him seriously, "If we only manage to survive another month on this island, surviving off coconuts and fish, and then we starve or die of thirst, I want you to know that I will die happy, because I will die free."

Jack tipped his head and then reached for a bottle of rum. He climbed out of the cache and shut the door, marching away from it and passing by Elizabeth as he informed her tartly,

"We are not going to die in a month, love. I've told you. Captain Jack Sparrow gets hanged by little red men in pretty red jackets, or he gets shot through by somebody angry their ship's being plundered. Or he takes a sword straight through the gut, or he -"

"Jack." Elizabeth reached for his wrist, and he whirled round, facing her. He huffed a breath and finished,

"Captain Jack Sparrow does not die of thirst marooned on an island, Miss Swann."

"And if something's happened to make us invisible?" Elizabeth demanded. "Why is it that no ship seems to be able to catch sight of us? Will any ship ever come to our rescue, Jack? Ever?"

"I'd like to keep on believing that eventually one will, yes," he told her, yanking his wrist out of her hand and uncorking his bottle of rum. The sun, by now, had reached high noon, and it was hot as Hades on the island. Elizabeth felt sweat on her back as she eyed the bottle in Jack's hand. He held it out in offering, but Elizabeth just shook her head and mumbled,

"I'm going into my shelter to get out of this sun."

"If you'll excuse me, then, I'm going to get very, very drunk, seeing as our best chance thus far for escaping this island has sailed away over the horizon. Cheers, love." Jack turned and walked away, and Elizabeth just stood and watched him go.

"I've brought you dinner," Elizabeth informed Jack hours later, as the sun dipped and cast a golden glow over the entire island. He lay on the sand, his skin rosy from exposure to the sun, and propped himself up on his elbows. He hadn't been kidding; he really was remarkably drunk. Elizabeth smirked a little as she lay crossed palm leaves with smoked barracuda meat on his lap. She held a coconut above his head and reached for his cutlass beside him.

"Be ready to drink," she said, just as he'd done to her the first time he'd opened a coconut for her. She whacked at the centre of the coconut with the back of the cutlass a few times until it opened, and Jack gladly sopped up the refreshing, hydrating coconut milk his body badly needed after so much rum. He moaned a little as he took his dagger out and carved the coconut meat, mumbling,

"Didn't know how hungry I was. Mmph."

Elizabeth sat and watched him eat, which was an oddly satisfying thing to do. The way his fingers moved on the food and then up to his lips was strangely alluring. She swallowed heavily and reminded him,

"You're allowed to thank me for bringing you food."

"Ah. Yes. How clumsily uncouth of me," he drawled in a drunken voice. He turned his eyes to her and smiled a little. "Sweet, beautiful Elizabeth. Thank you most kindly for generously toting me fish and coconut. I shall never repay you properly, dear, though I shall try."

She laughed at that, and she rolled her eyes. "Now you're just making fun of me, Jack."

"Quite the opposite, I assure you." He finished off his fish and set the coconut shells and palm leaves aside. Elizabeth picked them up and went to toss them into the fire for fuel. When she came back, Jack had reclined onto his elbows again, and Elizabeth knelt beside him.

"May I ask you something?" she began, gathering her courage and figuring that it was best to get these questions out of the way whilst he was drunk. Even if they were rescued and she did have to marry James Norrington, this was knowledge she wanted, and she wanted to get it from Jack Sparrow. She wet her bottom lip with a flick of her tongue, and she watched one of his eyebrows go up.

"Lizzie, you can ask me anything in the world, love."

Ah, yes. Very drunk. She sighed and nodded. She reminded him,

"When we were together in the shelter, and I was touching you, you were… hard… between your legs. Your manhood was rigid, it seems."

Jack's head tipped just a little, and the other eyebrow went up to join the first. He nodded.

"Aye, Elizabeth, my cock was hard. Do you know why?"

She paused, then shook her head just a little. She had some semblance of an idea, but she didn't want to sound like an idiot. Jack Sparrow sat up slowly, wobbling a little where he was, and he smirked broadly at her. He leaned toward her and told her,

"It was because I had the most beautiful young woman in the Spanish Main curled up against my body, love. A young woman with eyes that have a strange proclivity to swallow a man whole. Lips that rather beg for kissing. And a nicer shape from head to toe than I've seen in any lady I've encountered on my many travails. So, yes, Lizzie, my cock swelled up for you. And so I left and went and took a coconut to the skull."

Elizabeth frowned; that was a rather incongruous detail to finish with. But then she realised that he'd called her the most beautiful young woman in the Spanish Main. He'd described her features and told her they'd aroused him. Elizabeth studied his long nose, his darkly-lined eyes, and she felt a coil of warm need in her lower belly. She chomped on her lip and reached out to touch at his opened shirt, pressing her palm to his chest, and she murmured,

"I want to touch it again."

He stared at her for a very long moment, and then at last he huffed out a breath and said thickly,

"Perhaps if I weren't so drunk, I'd insist upon you not doing that, love. Perhaps if a ship hadn't sailed right by us today without sparing us a second glance, I'd demand that you get your hands off of me. But seeing as I am rather taken by drink at the moment, and we were, in fact, abandoned by that passing ship, I find myself somewhat disinclined to pass up your offer of… manipulation, as it were."

Elizabeth leaned closer to him, her lips a hair's breadth from his, and she whispered, "I like the way you speak, Captain Sparrow."

In response, he took her right hand and put it squarely on the crotch of his breeches, and Elizabeth gasped a little when she felt that he was hard again. She rubbed at him through the fabric, and Jack closed the gap between their mouths. He kissed her rather urgently, drawing her mouth onto his and pushing his tongue straight through her teeth. He dragged his tongue over the roof of her mouth and nibbled on her lower lip, and Elizabeth realised just how well he knew what he was doing. He was so experienced, she thought. He had twenty years of real living on her. But he seemed to be quite enjoying himself as he grew firmer and larger beneath her moving hand, and she hummed into his mouth in delight.

"Lizzie," he gasped, pulling away and lying back on the sand. The sun was descending further against the horizon, and the golden light was fading to a more vibrant orange. Elizabeth watched as Jack untied his breeches where he lay, his fingers clumsy from drink, and she felt her eyes go wide with shock as he shoved them down a little.

His… cock… sprang out from the breeches, long and thick and throbbing, looking like some sort of sea monster. Elizabeth hesitantly reached out and wrapped her fingers around its visibly throbbing shaft, and when she did, Jack hissed where he lay.

"Need to touch you, love," he declared, and she edged closer to him, unsure of what he wanted. He pushed up the hem of her underdress and massaged at her thigh, making Elizabeth shiver and then go very warm. She flushed straight through with want, and a damp sense of longing settled heavily in her hips. She was suddenly profoundly wet, and she could feel her own pulse. His hand crept inward around her thigh to the inside, and Elizabeth's breath caught in her chest.

"Jack," she whispered, "what are you doing?"

"Touching you, Elizabeth." He sounded clearer all of a sudden. "Do the same for me, will you?"

She jerked her gaze back to his manhood, remembering that she was meant to be massaging him there. She struggled to focus, to move her hand on him. She gasped as the pads of Jack's prying fingers reached into her open drawers and touched at her sodden entrance. She fluttered her eyes shut and pumped her hand on Jack's cock, his loose skin moving up and down over the shaft as she did. She rolled her hips forward against Jack's touch, his fingers flirting with her downy folds. He was being careful, she could tell, because she was a virgin. But she wanted more. She wanted to be touched harder. She drove her hips against his hand, and he groaned loudly.

Elizabeth opened her eyes, feeling his cock throb in her hand as she studied it. She stared at its tip, at its shaft, and she decided someday it would be inside of her. She gazed up at Jack's face, at the way he had his face tipped back into the sand, his mouth fallen open a little. God in Heaven, he was handsome.

"Lizzie, you're going to kill me, love," he mumbled, and she wondered what he meant. He danced his fingers more insistently against her nub, around her entrance walls and satiny folds. Elizabeth fought to keep her hand moving on his member, dusting her fingers up around his tip in a way that seemed to drive him mad with want. He squirmed where he lay on the sand, and suddenly Elizabeth felt everything getting very warm and tight inside of her. She let her head fall back, and she rolled her hips forward onto his fingers, and she croaked out helplessly,

"Jack…"

Then suddenly it was like cannon fire had gone off inside her skull. Her ears were ringing loudly and there were spots behind her clamped eyelids. She gasped as her body clamped and clenched around Jack's expert fingers, and she suddenly began to move her hand much more firmly on him. As the bliss that rushed through her veins faded a little, he slipped his hand out of her dress and wiped his fingers on his breeches, mumbling,

'I've only got a second, love, and I… oh, Lizzie."

He arched his back up and yanked up his shirt, revealing his scarred stomach with its dusting of black hair. Elizabeth was very confused as to why he'd done that, but then he clamped his hand around hers and increased the pressure she was using on him. He pumped their hands together rather viciously a few times, and then he clenched his teeth. His gold tooth gleamed as his eyes wrenched shut and his dreadlocked head tipped back. Suddenly there was viscous white fluid shooting in errating bursts from his cock, landing in obscene little puddles all over his stomach. Elizabeth didn't know what it was, so she reached out to touch one of the puddles of the stuff and found herself dragging it along his skin. He panted and groaned, and then she watched as his cock softened visibly a little. His throat bobbed and he opened his eyes, watching her play with the fluid on his belly, and he laughed a little.

"Don't make such an abominable mess, Elizabeth," he scolded her. "I'll go wash it off in the waves."

He started to heave himself up, looking and seeming more drunk than ever. She watched in wonder as he made his way to the shore and splashed water up on himself, appearing to scrub at his skin. Elizabeth just wiped her fingers on her dress. When Jack came back, his shirt and manhood were both safely tucked back into his breeches, which were tied back up. He stumbled from the rum, and he collapsed to sit back down on the sand beside Elizabeth, and he gave her a weighty look.

"See, I'd intended on staving off that sort of thing," he said, "with the assumption that you and I would be rather expeditiously rescued and you would go off and marry your Commodore, forgetting all about old Captain Jack, eh? But there was rum today, and there was a ship that ignored us today, and there were your hands, Lizzie, and your mouth… there was your mouth, so…"

He seized her face in his hands then, drawing her near, and she crashed against him into a kiss more fierce than any that had come before. By the time he pulled away, Elizabeth was utterly breathless.

"What is it that you did to me?" she demanded. "What happened to me?"

"What, you've never touched your own parts until that happened, love?" Jack asked, looking incredulous. Elizabeth shook her head.

"N-No. I never… never felt the urge to do such a thing."

He smirked widely at her. "Did you feel any urges this evening, Elizabeth?"

She felt her cheeks go very warm indeed, and she whispered, "Yes."

He laughed, staring at the sea, and Elizabeth cleared her throat. "What was the liquid that came out of you, that you washed off in the water?"

"You really know nothing about any of this, do you?" He was more serious now, and he reached to tuck Elizabeth's hair behind her ear. Her cheeks went hotter than ever, from embarrassment now. He tipped his head and informed her,

"That's the stuff you have to be right careful with, love. Makes a baby if you get it inside of you."

Elizabeth's mouth fell open in shock. So that was how a man and a woman conceived a child. No one had ever been brave enough to tell her the truth on the matter, and she'd never been allowed books that revealed reality. So the man would put his… cock… inside of a woman, between her legs, and stroke it back and forth. When he found release, that fluid would loose itself inside the woman, and she would be with child. Elizabeth stared down at her belly and confirmed,

"But I won't be…?"

"Of course not, love, not after a bit of touching." Jack seemed almost kind now, almost sympathetic. He felt badly for her because she didn't know anything, Elizabeth realised. She stared at his eyes and whispered,

"I'd like it if you slept in my shelter tonight, Jack."

He smirked a bit. "Would it make you feel safer if I did?"

She rolled her eyes. "It would make me happy."

"Good enough for me." Jack sighed heavily and reached for his very nearly empty bottle of rum. He polished off the last of it and said sincerely, "Thanks for dinner, Lizzie. And for the rest."

"Almost as good as a whore in Tortuga, then?" Elizabeth's eyes burned a little, and Jack glared at her as he shook his head and told her,

"You're different, love. In many ways. For one, you're apparently invisible. So, as the sun sets on our apparently invisible island, let's go to our apparently invisible shelter and lie down in apparently invisible peace, shall we?"

Elizabeth curled up half her mouth and shook her head. "You are drunk."

"So I'll sleep like a baby beside you," he reasoned, and he heaved himself to his feet again.

Author's Note: Yeahhhhhhhh first lemonade of this story! Haha. But what's this with them being invisible to passing ships? As Jack would say, "Not good." Thanks so very much for reading. PLEASE DO REVIEW if you can spare a quick moment to do so.

I almost certainly won't be able to update tomorrow as I have a busy day leading up to a black-tie Christmas ball at a 5-star hotel (break out the designer gown!) with an overnight stay afterward. I just don't see any writing time tomorrow. So I do apologize, but the next update will likely come on Friday. Thanks for your patience.