Chapter Five - The Unexpected Visitor

Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean belongs to Disney.

Many hours had passed. Surrounded in empty bottles, Patrick sat at the dining table, sipping on a small glass of vodka. The hot liquid burned its way down his throat. Damn, that's good stuff, he thought to himself as he set the glass down on the plastic coaster. Lifting the bottle for another top-up, Elizabeth walked into the dining room. Patrick, disappointed with the interruption, looked up at her.

"I would like to enquire as to whether there will be a dinner prepared tonight," Elizabeth asked.

"There's food in the pantry," Patrick pointed towards the kitchen. "Help yourself."

"I-I don't know how to cook," she responded, ashamed of that fact.

Patrick sighed, "Make a sandwich then."

"Do you not have a cook? It's not required of me to take care of kitchen duties."

Patrick could hardly suppress his laughter at her subtle insults.

"What do you think this is? A hotel?"

"No, I didn't mean that. I just thought--"

"Think less often," Patrick interjected.

He had only been here six hours, yet Patrick had had enough. Sure, Keira Knightley was hot, but this Elizabeth Swann constantly annoyed him - even though the two are practically one in the same. The sound of her voice, no matter how sweetly she spoke, crawled under his skin and irritated him. Ridding himself of her would be a dream come true, Patrick thought. He sincerely couldn't wait to get back home to the normality of his non-adventurous life.

Daylight gave way to the night as Patrick collapsed onto the airbed that Vincent had left out for him. Patrick could guarantee he was in for another hangover tomorrow morning, but he really couldn't care less. He'd rather have an excuse to stay in bed instead of having to deal with Miss Swann's requests. This was one weird day.

The bedside lamp softly lit up the room as Elizabeth Swann propped herself up in bed, leaning back against a creamy white pillow. She had trouble keeping her eyes open yet she was too worried about Will to sleep. The memory kept replaying over in her head; the man she loved, within arms reach, trapped behind the glass of the glowing box.

"Three in the morning is indeed late," Elizabeth thought to herself as she glanced at the clock hanging on the opposite wall. She recalled hearing Patrick heading to bed hours ago and drunkenly bidding her goodnight. Oh, how she wanted to see Will again. And now was her chance.

Wearing only her undergarment, Elizabeth quickly jumped out of bed. She opened the door quietly and cautiously peered out into the dark hallway. The coast was clear. She then proceeded towards the living room.

Fumbling around in the dark, her hand brushed against a doorknob. Elizabeth, unsure of which room was behind the door, curiously pressed her ear against the wood. The shuffling of feet could be heard from inside, among other strange sounds that she couldn't distinguish. Her heart raced. Slowly, she turned the handle and crept into the room. The sight before her, much to her dismay, was not what she expected.

"Jack?"

"Ah, Elizabeth. Why am I not at all surprised to see you?" Jack said, frantically rummaging through empty bottles of various alcoholic beverages that were left lying on the dining table. Yet, upon seeing Elizabeth Swann, he realised the rum would be long gone.

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing here?"

"Now that is a good question, love."

Jack swaggered around the room, taking in his surroundings as if it were an opportunity for financial gain. As he strode past the kitchen sink, the shine of a faux gold ashtray which Vincent bought at the dollar store for a few coins, caught Jack's eye. He approached the item, studied it closely and stuffed it into his coat pocket.

Elizabeth, impatient with Jack's less than proper behaviour, began to worry about the noise level. Surely, Patrick must have heard something.

"A-ha!" Jack exclaimed in delight as he spotted a large crate under the counter.

Thinking it may disappear before him, Jack raced towards it. He knelt down and reached into the depths of what lay beyond the wooden exterior. He pulled out, much to his surprise, a can of 'bacardi rum' according to the label. His brow furrowed as he inspected every inch of the strange tubular metal-like object he held in his hand.

Leaning in close, Elizabeth looked over Jack's shoulder, "What is it?" she asked.

"Rum," he replied confused, though not seeing any rum at all. "I'd love to know what ye did to it this time, love."

"I didn't do anything to it, Jack," Elizabeth defended. She was as confused as Jack on the matter.

Why won't the rum let me drink it? Jack thought. This dream is not good. Little did he know, it wasn't about to improve any time soon…

"Where the bloody hell are we?"

"I don't know," Elizabeth replied. "But we must save Will."

"We? I'm sorry to inform you, Lizzie, but the whelp is your responsibility, therefore you will be saving him, savvy?" Jack informed as he continued to inspect the so-called 'rum'.

"Will is in danger and he's not acting like himself, Jack. I'm worried about him. He might be hurt!"

"Did ye not hear a word of what I just said?"

"Please! He needs our help!" Elizabeth pleaded.

Jack considered the situation. Perhaps he could gain something of interest for his efforts should he decide to help dear William from his grim fate.

"Ye best try harder than that, love," Jack suggestively smiled at her.

"Ugh, you're impossible, Jack Sparrow!"

Jack couldn't help himself. "It's Captain Jack Sparrow," he corrected.

And with that, Elizabeth Swann stormed out of the room.