Author's Note One: Okay, guys, as you know, updates on this story have been agonizingly slow. I don't like it anymore than you do, though, believe me. And so I have a proposition for you. We have two choices, and I'd like to know what you think is best as the reader, all right?

Choice one—we continue as we're doing; random updates with long breaks in between. Or, choice two—I'll take a break from this story, and write all the chapters at once. That way, when I return with a new chapter, the story will be finished, and the updates will be closer together. But the initial break will be a long one. Which one would you rather have? Please help me out here, so I know what to do!

Disclaimer: You know the drill.

Author's Note Two: Thanks all who have been following this story, and all who have reviewed. Also, for any of you interested in Lord of the Rings, I wrote a humorous oneshot posted a few days ago; and for all the Willabethers out there: check out the oneshot "One More Day" for a little Elizabeth-waits-for-Will-angst. I'd appreciate that, thanks to you all again!

Chapter Eighteen—Slapped Jack and Flapjacks

Jessie was not in a good mood this morning; it was safe to say she was even in a very bad mood. Maybe it was just her, but she didn't find having someone scream in your ear to wake you up, while at the same time having that same someone throwing various objects at her, was the best way to start out the morning.

"I see your personal hygiene isn't the only thing that disappeared in the middle of the night," Jack had said when Jessie grumbled at him for waking her up in such a manner, "where's your sense of humour this morning?"

"Gone," she replied angrily, snatching from his hand the small bit of food that counted as breakfast that he had gotten somewhere; "along with any hope that I'll have a good morning!" He smirked, and she added, "and I did not lose my personal hygiene! You try sleeping on the floor all night and see how nice you look the next morning."

"Why should I sleep on the floor, when you were kind enough to give me the bed?" was all he had to say in return, but it was enough to leave Jessie in a fouler mood than she would've been even if she had awoken to see that she had started this month's monthly monstrous menstrual cycle that morning (which, thankfully, she hadn't).

Now she was walking a little behind Will as he stood beside Jack, all three of them walking with Gibbs as he introduced the crew. "Feast your eyes, captain," he was saying, "all of them faithful hands before the mast. And crazy to boot," he added under his breath.

"This is your able-bodied crew?" Will asked, clearly not impressed. When Jack stopped to turn and shoot him a look reading "just you watch" before asking Cotton a question, Jessie decided to walk on farther down.

"Don't know you, don't know you, don't know you," she said, inspecting each of the men farther, "don't know you, or you, or…hey, Marty, what's up?" Have we met before? he replied, confused, but Jessie was already walking ahead. "Never seen you before. You're just plain creepy. Are you sure you're in the right movie? Go away." Farther down the line. "Don't know you, don't want to know you, and…ah, hello!"

She stopped in front of Anamaria, smiling more widely than she had all morning. The older woman looked at her past the rim of her hat. "Do I know you?"

"Not really," Jessie replied, "I'm here with, uh…him." She looked, not fondly, back at Jack, who was asking Will, who still looked unimpressed, a question about Cotton.

Anamaria's laugh came out in a bark, quiet enough not to attraction the attention of the three men. "And why is a young girl such as you going around with Jack Sparrow?"

"My business with Jack and Will is my own, just as yours is yours," Jessie replied, amazed that the words had come from her own mouth. They sounded unnaturally witty!

"Never mind you, lass," Anamaria said, and pulled her hat down farther. "And what's the benefit for us?" she called out to Jack.

"Just a shot in the dark here," Jessie said quickly before Jack could reach them, "but if by any chance you're mad at Jack and plan on slapping him once or twice, mind giving him a few extra ones for me? We both know how intolerable he can be sometimes. So he deserves them, right?"

Anamaria shot her a strange look, but Jessie thought the older woman also looked a little amused before she looked away to face Jack, who was looking slightly sick. He pulled the hat off slowly, begging it to prove him wrong.

It didn't. The pirate captain grimaced visibly. "Ah," he said, "Anamaria."

She slapped him once by way of greeting, and before he could completely recover, she slapped him again. While he rubbed the sore spot on his cheek, Will looked impressed for the first time that morning. "And I suppose you didn't deserve those either?" he asked, sharing an amused glance with Jessie, who herself looked to be enjoying Jack's discomfort without a bit of guilt.

"No," Jack said, "and yes. That one I deserved." He shot Anamaria a dark looked. "But the second was completely uncalled f—"

She slapped him again.

Jessie was laughing now, and Anamaria looked at her, eyes twinkling, before turning to glare at Jack. "You stole my boat!" she accused.

"Borrowed!" he said quickly. "Borro—"

The fourth slap came, and Jessie guessed it was more for Anamaria's enjoyment than much anything else.

"Borrowed!" Jack repeated. "Borrowed without permission, but with every intention of bringing it back to you."

"But you didn't!" No slap followed this time, but Jack winced in advance.

"You'll get another one," he assured her.

"I will."

Here, Will leaned over and whispered to Jessie, "He's in a lot of trouble, Jack is, isn't he?"

"I think he's a little afraid of Anamaria," Jessie whispered back, "but how much trouble do you think we can get him in in the least amount of time?"

"Let's find out." Will leaned forward and joined the conversation. "You'll get a better boat than the one you had before," he told Anamaria over Jack's shoulder.

"A better one!" Jack repeated quickly, and failed in all his nervousness to notice the bit of mischief in Will's eyes. He had one ear on Will now, listening for farther advice.

"That one," Will supplied. Jack repeated it eagerly, than paused to think about what he said. He turned on Will and dragged him a few steps away from Ana. Jessie followed curiously.

"What one?" Jack demanded.

"That one," Will said innocently, pointing casually at The Dauntless. Jack turned to look at, looking mournful.

"Unless, of course, you want to tell her you don't have a ship for her, Jack," Jessie said, not at all trying to hide how much she was enjoying this.

Jack shot her a look, and faced Will so his glared included the blacksmith as well, and he told them without words: "I'll deal with you later." For the moment, though, he turned back towards Anamaria, still with that bit of sickness and mourning.

"Aye," he told her weakly, "that one." And he pointed at The Dauntless just as Will had done. But just then he seemed to realize just what he was doing, because he recovered quickly. "What say you?"

"AYE!" The entire crew, including Anamaria, cheered. They all made their way, running, towards the ship, and Ana lagged behind long enough to reach for her hat, which Jack still held.

But the pirate captain held it out of her reach. "Ah, ah, ah," he said, and gestured with his free hand to his stinging cheek. "You, Ana, like to use words to bite and curse," he said, "so why did you slap me more than usual?"

Anamaria smiled maliciously, and over Jack's shoulder she met Jessie's eyes. "A little birdie told me,"—Jack glared without thinking at Cotton's parent—"no, not that bird, you scurvy dog! Something else told me you'd done something to deserve an extra few, even if I wasn't there to see it." And she snatched her hat back and seemed, if she were the type to, to skip away and join the rest of the crew on The Dauntless.

Jessie was just thinking they had gotten away with it, and was following Will and Gibbs on board the ship, when Jack stopped her. "Don't think I didn't see who Anamaria was looking at," he told her, "and I'll get you back, lass, mark my words."

Jessie grinned sheepishly at him, stuck out her tongue, and hurried off. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I can have a good morning, after all!

-o0o-

Grumble. Grumble, grumble. Gurgle. Gurgle, grumble, gurgle. Grumble, gurgle, grumble, grumble, gurgle.

Amber bit back a groan of poor annoyance; her stomach would not shut up! It was driving her insane, the constant rumbling and random surges of extreme hunger pains; she hadn't had a morsel of food since the meal at the governor's house last evening, save for a few bites of bread at dinner with Barbossa last night. Until now, the discovery of the extra medallion had occupied her thoughts; but fear and wonder left her when she awoke this morning, so hungry she could hardly think straight. She would go insane just from the noise her stomach was making.

Amber, being a rather early riser, had woken long before her companion had; and so was forced to sit in silence; with merely her thoughts for entertainment (and they themselves were so focused on food they provided little of it); she, like Jessie miles away, had woken up in a foul mood; and instead of improving as her friend's had, it was getting fouler and fouler by the minute, as her impatience grew. Hunger and boredom did not mix.

Finally, when Amber was certain she had reached the height of boredom for any person in history; and was hungry enough to eat the very dress on her back, Elizabeth stirred slightly and woke up, and when she caught Amber's gaze she smiled at her, and pushed herself upright. "Good morning," she said cheerfully, as if the night had erased all her fears, too.

"Morning." Amber replied, wondering if Elizabeth would catch that she had purposely forgotten the "good" in her greeting.

"How long have you been awake?"

"Too long," Amber said, "I've never been a late sleeper." These words, however, offered as a sort of inspiration, and Amber felt for the first time that morning the least bit cheerful, and she smiled at Elizabeth. "I've just had a brilliant idea," she told her, "I am so bored just sitting here, and this would be the perfect time to play a game."

"Well, if you really want to, that would be perfectly fine," Elizabeth said with a small yawn; she made the movement look much more delicate and cute than it was supposed to be, but Amber didn't bother about it.

"I don't suppose you've ever heard of the game 'I Never', have you?" she asked, adjusting her position as to face Elizabeth, who was shaking her head. "Well, it's really, really simple. Each of us take turns saying 'I've never…' and then we finish the sentence. For instance, I've never wore a corset more than once."

"I'm following you so far, Amber," Elizabeth said, "but surely there's more to the game than that?"

"Usually," Amber replied, "when a person says they've never done something you have done—like you've worn a corset many times, I'm certain—you would then have to take a drink from your glass, or remove a piece of clothing, or something. But we can't really do anything like that here, so we would just have to take turns with the 'I Nevers'."

"It would give us something to do, I'll admit," Elizabeth said, smiling. "Why don't you go first?"

"Right," Amber said, and she racked her brains for something that would make sense to Elizabeth; it was hard to resist the temptation to say things like 'I've never been to Disney World' or 'I've never seen Orlando Bloom in person' or something. "Okay, well… I've never been purposed to."

"I'd drink to that if I could," Elizabeth replied, and Amber was having trouble deciding if she was smiling or grimacing. "And I go now? Let me see…. I've never been able to live away from propriety."

Amber raised an imaginary glass and took a sip of air, then she said, "I've never been in love."

Elizabeth did not answer at first, just sat there with this sad sort of smile on her face. Amber looked at her curiously. "So," she said, "have you or haven't you?"

"I do love someone," Elizabeth answered finally, and Amber resisted the urge to squee over her and Will; "but I'll just go now, shall I? I've never done everything I was supposed to."

Amber laughed. "Neither have I," she said. Her stomach gurgle painfully again. "I've never wanted a flapjack in my entire life more than I do right now."

"Beg pardon?" Elizabeth asked, confused. "A what?"

"A flapjack," Amber said, and then she remembered. "Oh, my gosh! You've never had a flapjack?" She shook her head. "I'm so sorry. You're missing out on one of the greatest food creations of man, my friend. I could live off flapjacks."

"But what are they?"

"They're like…well, just pancakes, I guess."

Elizabeth sighed. "One day, Amber, if we ever get rescued, I'll have you get me one of those flapjacks, so that I may try one, because I still have no idea what you're talking about." Amber laughed, and she felt a sudden surge of affection for Elizabeth, whom she decided really wasn't all that bad once you got to know her.

"I'll do what I can, Elizabeth."