Nobody Really Likes Beckett's Title

On board the Black Pearl, Jack, Elizabeth, and Gibbs are standing in the middle of the deck, glaring at the Letters of Marque. Norrington is swabbing the aforementioned deck.

Jack: Eew, it's Beckett.

Elizabeth: Actually, it's "Lord Cutler Beckett of the East India Trading Company".

Jack: Yeah, but who can remember all that?

Jack makes a face at the signature on the document. As if it's going to help.

Gibbs: Will was in cahoots with Beckett, and he never told us!

Jack: Not very nice of him.

Gibbs: Beckett wants that compass of yours, and there can only be one reason for that.

Jack: Of course. He wants to sell it on eBay for six times what it's worth, and not give me one cent of the profit.

Everyone stares at Jack.

Elizabeth: What's eBay?

Jack: I actually have no idea. However, I imagine that Beckett wants the compass so he can find the chest.

Elizabeth: Beckett did say something about a chest.

Gibbs: Great. With that chest, Beckett and Company will control the entire ocean!

Jack: That would, to say the least, put us at a disadvantage.

Gibbs: Um. Yeah. Pretty much.

Gibbs wanders away to try and make the ship go faster.

Jack: So, Elizabeth, how did you manage to get hold of these fascinating documents?

Elizabeth: Magic?

Jack: Really?

Elizabeth: No.

Jack considers for a moment, then decides that this explanation, or lack thereof, is good enough for him.

Jack: Kinda funny how Will goes about things in the noble way, being sure to keep all his promises, and yet, here you are with the prize, and, well, we've already discussed his current whereabouts.

Elizabeth: Yeah, thanks for that.

Jack: Anytime.

Jack reads from the document.

Jack: "Full pardon, comissioned as a privateer on behalf of England and the East India Trading Company..."

Norrington, the jerkface-to-be, hears this and looks over at the papers with interest.

Jack: I suppose it really means to say, "No jail time, but you'll be Beckett's personal slave for life." Ha. As if. What kind of a moron does he think I am?

Jack puts the letters in his pocket.

Elizabeth: Hey, give those back.

Jack: Um, let me think, no.

Elizabeth: Give them back!

Jack: Persuade me.

Elizabeth: Will taught me to handle a sword, you know. I could so take you.

Jack: Like I said, persuade me.

Jack walks away, trying to be suave. He doesn't quite succeed, but hey. He still makes Elizabeth smile and blush like a schoolgirl who's just been asked to dance by her first crush. Norrington walks over to Elizabeth.

Norrington: Don't look at him like that. It's creepy.

Elizabeth: Is not.

Norrington: Still, there was a time when I would have given anything for you to look like that while thinking about me.

Elizabeth: What are you talking about? I've always looked this way.

Norrington: Wow, you're a riot. Real hilarious. You know what I mean.

Elizabeth: No I don't.

Norrington: Oh, I think you do.

Elizabeth: That's retarded. I just trust him, that's all.

Norrington: Oh, yes. Of course, that's all. You trust him. So I'm sure you've never wondered how your latest fiance ended up on the Flying Dutchman.

Elizabeth: What's making you so sarcastic this morning?

Norrington: Hangover.

Norrington leaves. Elizabeth, for some peculiar reason, takes out the compass and notices that it's pointing to Jack. Or, at least something in Jack's direction. Probably there was some seagull or something shiny over there, behind Jack, that the compass was really pointing to. However, Elizabeth interprets it the way most of the Jack/Elizabeth shippers do, and gets weirded-out. She contemplates throwing the compass either out to sea or at Jack's head, but then thinks better of it and just puts it in her pocket.

Yay... updates for Christmas almost-Eve. Short chapter, but I'll do the next one very soon, seriously. Haha. Believe me if you want, but it'll be up tonight, I think. Reviews are always super-welcome!