Hi everyone! As a warning, this chapter is not what I consider to be my best writing (the dialogue feels a bit scrambled to me), but I hope it will suffice until I get my act together and manage to straighten all the problems out.

I thought I might also mention (because here seems as good a place as any) the reason why I chose a James/Elizabeth pairing, and not a James/OC or a James/anyone else. After I saw AWE, I was obviously quite upset over the fact James died (all right, that's an understatement – I was quite distraught), but I also was really ticked off at Elizabeth, for several reasons; the first being that now she has kissed not one, not two, but THREE incredibly hot guys, all of whom, strangely enough, die not too long thereafter… I guess four, if you count Sao Feng in that category (let's face it – Chow Yun Fat is quite good looking for his age when he's not all scarred); but also because she just never appreciated how much James loved her, until after he died, of course. If you watch the extra scenes for CotBP, you will see in at least two that he really does care about her as a person, and it's really sweet. (You will also see an absolutely hysterical Johnny Depp rant about the French and their various pros and cons, but that's besides the point…) ANYWAY, the point is that my friend was saying how she didn't like Elizabeth, and James deserved someone better, and, quite honestly, I agree. However… 1) as tempting as it was, I didn't do a self-insert because my obsession with James is not worth writing a horribly fake and corny story for the sake of vanity; 2) I thought that in this story I could give Elizabeth a chance to redeem her seeming indifference towards James in the first two movies (in a romantic sense, at least); 3) I have to forgive Elizabeth in a way, because, honestly, when choosing between wigged Norrie and dashing, pirate-y Will, who would you choose? (I know that until DMC came out, I would have shrieked and hidden at the very suggestion of the former); and 4) after all, it is James who is in love with Elizabeth, and I wanted to give him the relationship with her that he always wanted in the movies, but never got.

Wow, that was a long explanation… sorry. (I'm excellent at random tangents, and I apologize for this…) What am I forgetting…? Oh, yes, icky disclaimer: you all know it already, but I don't own anything. Ta da, that's over with. OK, read on; again, apologies!

7. An Encounter on the Beach

James felt himself falling through a dark abyss. To his surprise, he felt next to no alarm; he supposed that the unexpectedness of things had worn off since all his dealings with pirates had started. Again, to his surprise, he felt little concern at the fact that he was now comparing himself to pirates. In fact, he almost rather enjoyed the notion.

The next thing he knew, he had landed quite softly on a sandy beach. Gulls circled and cawed overhead, the wind whirred through sea grasses, and the waves gurgled and lapped at the shoreline. It was almost sunset; the sky was a deep navy that faded into bands of gold and pink shot across the horizon. And, walking along the beach in dirty pirate's clothes was Elizabeth, kicking up wet globs of sand as she went.

James watched her draw near, wondering whether it was better to wait for her to notice him or to approach her himself. He decided upon the former, and sighed as he watched strands of her loose hair fly about her face with the wind.

Quite suddenly, she saw him.

'James,' she gasped, freezing in her tracks.

'Elizabeth,' he replied, nodding and rising to his feet. He was feeling less and less sure of what to do, and was hoping very much that he wouldn't do anything brash when suddenly he found her in his arms all of her own accord.

'Oh James, why didn't you follow me?' She sobbed into his shoulder. 'You promised you would, you promised, and then… I couldn't help but feel it was my fault…'

So she really did care. James felt his heart lifting. He gently peeled Elizabeth from his shoulder and smiled reassuringly at her tearful face. 'It wasn't your fault,' he said softly. 'It was mine. I made the choice not to follow.'

'But why?' Her lower lip was trembling slightly – James had to look away before answering.

'Why?' He asked himself as much as answered her. 'Because Beckett would surely have caught us, and I would have had to watch him kill you. Because I still can't quite reconcile myself to the idea of becoming a pirate, of thieving and plundering and killing innocent people. Because… because I knew that you were in love with him, and if I went with you it would be like dying every time I saw the two of you together.' He broke off, realizing he had said too much. Elizabeth stiffened in his embrace and pulled away slightly.

'Oh, James…' she said softly, not meeting his eyes. James cursed himself as Elizabeth sank down to sit on the sand, arms wrapped around her knees. 'I'm married now, you know?' She said, looking up at him. He couldn't read the expression in her eyes.

'Yes,' he said, sinking down to sit beside her.

'And I'm carrying his child.'

James looked at her in a mixture of surprise and pain. 'Oh,' he said as calmly as he could. 'Congratulations.'

The two stared out at the ocean for a minute in a very awkward silence.

'Elizabeth, I…'

'Yes?'

James rubbed his forehead. 'I'm sorry,' he said lamely. 'I should not have said anything.'

She shrugged.

'I suppose I owe you an explanation as to why I'm here.'

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. 'I already know. I'm asleep and dreaming about you, though for what reason I really couldn't say, because in all reality it would be best if I were dreaming about my husband…' She slapped the sand in frustration. 'This is so improper!'

James bit back a laugh. Here was Elizabeth, a pirate, trying to tell him that the situation was improper! 'It's not your fault, if that makes you feel any better,' he reassured her. 'There was this sea goddess… Calypso… and when I arrived at the Locker, she said that you… that I… she said…'

Elizabeth laughed shakily. 'You know, I haven't seen you this awkward since you tried to propose to me that time.'

James looked down bashfully, feeling himself flush. 'That was a long time ago, wasn't it?' he said softly, wistfully.

Elizabeth smiled. 'You had only just been promoted to commodore. I remember, that day up at the fort… you were wearing a new suit positively covered in gold brocade, and I was wondering how you managed not to faint in the middle of the ceremony because it was so hot that day…' James suppressed a laugh – Elizabeth of all people, would remember how hot and stuffy it had been that day, wouldn't she? 'But, fortunately, you didn't collapse, and you maintained a very professional attitude throughout, and it ended up being a very proper ceremony indeed.'

'And then Sparrow popped up and bloody ruined everything.'

'He saved my life!'

'And then threatened to kill you, to save himself!' James sighed in frustration. 'I assume he managed to survive this whole accursed business, even if Beckett and Jones didn't.' And me, he thought grumpily.

'He did.'

'Damn.'

'James!'

'I'm sorry.' James sighed again. 'I suppose I should really stick to protocol, regardless of the fact I'm dead. I'm not behaving at all like a gentleman, am I?'

Elizabeth laughed. 'Hang the protocol, hang the rules. They're more like guidelines, anyway. You always were far too concerned with manners, James.' She paused. 'I don't think I'd ever seen you looking better than when we picked you up off of Tortuga.'

James snorted. 'You thought I looked better as a rum-soaked drunkard than as a gentleman?'

'Well, not the rum so much. But with the wig off, you really did look much more…' She struggled to find the right word. 'Free. It was a much more becoming look.'

James thought about that for a moment. Despite the pain and humiliation of the whole situation, his unfortunate tenure aboard the Black Pearl had had a certain liberating element to it. There was no worrying about the state of his uniform, about how brightly his sword shone, about his speech and table manners, about whether or not his wig was powdered just the right amount. In fact, there had been no wig at all – no itching, no sneezing from the powder, no uncomfortable heat. James rather missed it. He tugged off his hat and wig, and flung the wig into the oncoming wave, where it bobbed for a second before disappearing under the dark water.

'Better?' he asked Elizabeth, placing the hat firmly back onto his head. She laughed again, smiling at him. The sound made James's heart flutter ever so slightly. 'And I swore off rum as soon as I got my position back – no need to worry about that, then. Not that there would be any rum on this beach at any rate.'

Elizabeth smiled mischievously. 'Oh?' she said, leaping up and heading down the beach; James followed, confused. 'You might be surprised. See, this beach is actually a real place… you remember when you found me after Barbossa kidnapped me?'

James nodded, frowning. 'Landed here with Sparrow, weren't you?'

'Oh, yes,' chuckled Elizabeth, knocking on the surrounding palm trees for some inexplicable reason. 'Jack, and his rum.' James watched in bewilderment as she began to take exaggerated strides across the sand, looking more like Sparrow than herself. 'See, Jack was marooned on this island by Barbossa twice – once by himself, and once with me. Managed to escape the first time by bargaining passage off with the rumrunners…' Elizabeth bent over and pulled open a large trapdoor covered in white sand. 'Let's see, what was it Jack said?' Elizabeth stopped and turned to face James, her hands on her hips and her eyes twinkling in amusement. 'I think it was: "From the looks of it, they've long been out of business… probably have your bloody friend Norrington to thank for that…"' James rolled his eyes; she laughed and continued down the stairs.

'I hope you do remember I also rescued you the second time,' he called after her.

A bottle of rum was thrust abruptly into his hands. 'The irony is not lost on me, James,' Elizabeth said, her head emerging from the trapdoor. 'Drink up… unless, of course, you can resist the temptation,' she added, winking at him and smiling in a horribly disarming manner as she sat down on the ground and took a swig from her own bottle. James tried not to gawk at her – how on earth could she still be so bewitching, even when he was dead and she was a pirate?!

'Elizabeth…' He cleared his throat and sat down besides her, placing the rum to his side. 'Even though I'm sure this is a horribly awkward situation for you, I hope you don't mind my company?' He was a bit afraid of the answer, but the question had been asked already.

She glanced at him. 'James, if I did mind you, I would have told you to leave a long time ago.' James shrugged, relaxing inwardly – it was a sort of indirect compliment. 'It's rather nice to have someone who will believe me when I talk about… well, more or less any of the absurd circumstances I've been in.'

'So, you don't mind if… if we meet again, then?' James felt rather awkward asking, considering it was, after all, her dreams that he was invading.

'I suppose not, Mr Norrington.' She smiled. 'Though may I be so bold as to ask how frequently I might expect your presence?' She raised an eyebrow.

James furrowed his brow slightly. 'I'm permitted to see you during the span of only one hour a year… so, by my calculations, that would best mean four times a year, in quarter-hour increments…' He suddenly realized he should have been keeping an eye on the time, and hastily pulled a large gold watch out of his pocket. James swore under his breath; almost fifteen minutes had already passed. 'And, having said so, I regret to say I must leave now.'

He stood; she followed suite. 'I'll come whenever you call for me,' he said, pressing her hand.

'Four times a year,' she repeated. James wondered if the shadows cast by the last rays of the sun were playing tricks on him, but he thought he saw a tear glistening at the corner of her eye. In an instant, though, she was smiling in her usual merry manner. 'Then you may be sure I shall call on you again before the next three months are out, Mr Norrington. Until then...'

James watched as she turned and strode back off up the beach, the wind ruffling her hair. 'Until then, Elizabeth,' he whispered. In the next moment, he felt darkness overtake him again.