DISCLAIMERS: In case you haven't yet figured it out, I'm playing with other people's toys here. Fanfiction university concept © Camilla Sandman. Pirates © Disney. Students © themselves.

AN: So, here it is, the final chapter... *cue dramatic music* I've had so much fun with this project and I've learned TONS. I love you all and hope you follow the sequel as it continues to second term. Applications are still being accepted, and the application form can be found at... just go to my profile and find the story, it's got the same title as this one only with the number 2 after it.

There is now an OFUC website up as well to house several specific lessons that I never found a way to work into the curriculum. More stuff will be put up there as I find the time/energy/motivation. Any suggestions are welcome. So far I have a couple guides to 18th century language up that I strongly recommend you read. Some very common words were used entirely differently in the 1700's. And I went through an entire 18th century dictionary cover-to-cover to put the lists together for you since there were no other guides even remotely like what I was looking for-- and then of course, I realized there was no possible way to squish all that information into the final chapter. There's also some of the main links I used for my research and the Field Guide to PotC Sues, and probably something else I've forgotten about. The formatting is giving me some problems, so just ignore the occasional weird indentation or strangely-sized text. You can find it at http:// pirateuniversity. webs. com/, only take the spaces out.

The Black Pearl sailed unseen into the Port Royal harbor, silent as the darkness, to meet the small canoe that rowed towards it. When the two crafts touched, if someone had been very close by, they might have seen a slight figure climbing up the side of the ship, carrying a stack of papers under one arm.

Two hours later…

"Dude! Dude, okay, listen to this one," Siren managed to say between bursts of laughter. "God, I love these trick questions. We were geniuses to put them in." She wiped the tears off her face and took another swig of rum. With her around the table in the mess hall sat Jack, Barbossa, Marty, and Anamaria, reading, grading, and passing around the students' completed final exams.

'"Is it necessary to splice the mainbrace before luffing up? Why or why not?' and the answer they gave is 'No, but it helps…' and I don't know if that's right or wrong." Siren was grinning.

"S'pose havin' a drink don't hurt," Marty said with a shrug.

"It is absolutely correct," Jack declared seriously, then went back to grading the portion of the test he had written, which he was insisting no one else touch.

"Idiots," Barbossa scoffed, slamming down his mug. "I remember a day when it'd be a whippin' for any fool who was caught drinkin' on duty. On 'is own time, a mate can do what 'e pleases, but a ship don't get manned properly if the crew be three sheets to the wind."

"Well, I'm markin' it correct," Jack told his former first mate with a smirk, just to be annoying.

"Then I'm markin' it incorrect twice," Barbossa snapped.

"I wonder, will the students be able to figure out their scores when the two of them are through?" Anamaria asked Siren under her breath.

"Not a clue. Please take the rum away from me."

"'Ey, does the monkey count as a supply?" Marty wanted to know, waving one test paper in the air.

"What?" Siren blinked at him.

"Question five. 'There's a leak in the 'old. Explain 'ow to repair it in the middle of the open sea using only the basic supplies already on the ship.' The monkey, is 'e a supply?" Siren chewed on her lip, then turned to Barbossa.

"Your monkey, your call."

"Hey! As he is named after myself, I think that should give me a certain influence in this debate," Jack interrupted.

"You'll just say the opposite of what 'e says, Capt'n," Anamaria told him, one dark eyebrow raised, passing him the bottle of rum that Siren had been drinking too much of.

"Thanks, luv. Of course I will, where's the fun in agreein' with 'im?" Jack demanded, eyeing the level of rum left in the bottle and then taking a swig himself.

"The monkey is not a supply," Barbossa said meanwhile, ignoring the others. "'e is a member of the crew with all the rights that implies."

"What, the monkey gets a vote?" Siren asked, taken aback.

"O' course. An' being the wise and prudent creature 'e is, 'e always seconds my vote," Barbossa said with a satisfied smile.

"Monkey… not… a… supply…." Marty muttered to himself as he wrote under the faulty answer.

"Captain, what kind of questions do you call these?" Siren asked, her voice suddenly sharpening as she turned the page.

"Er… what's the answer you're wanting?" Jack asked innocently.

"What beverage is most important to bring on a long voyage? What is likely to be found inside a rum bottle? What does R-U-M spell?" She looked up at Jack indignantly.

"There's the number of questions you wanted. And there's even a trick question in there," Jack said, making his 'virtuous face' as Siren continued to read the questions he'd written.

"What is mixed with water to make grog? What should Captain Jack Sparrow be given for his birthday?.... whoa. She didn't answer rum to that once." Siren silently pushed the exam paper across the table to Jack, who promptly choked on his mouthful of rum and very nearly sprayed it on the test. Marty and Anamaria both leaned in to read over his shoulders and started snickering. Barbossa wore the look of one determined not to admit the slightest curiosity.

"I still think the Navy one is the best," Anamaria said with a smirk.

"What's the Navy one?" Marty wanted to know. "I 'aven't got that far yet."

"Are members of the Royal Navy allowed to flog the oggin while on duty?" Siren asked, trying and failing to keep a straight face.

"Me favorite answer I saw to that one was 'Only if they wash their hands afterward,'" Barbossa chuckled.

"Washin' their hands after sailin', pointless thing to do," Jack scoffed.

"That's not what the people who didn't study assume it means," Siren told him.

"Or after that either," Jack said idly, causing Siren to freeze in horror and struggle to remember whether or not she'd shaken his hand at any point. She knew she'd certainly taken more than one item he'd handed her. The other three pirates cracked up laughing again at the expression on her face as Jack continued grading his test questions in blissful unawareness.

"I need more rum…" Siren finally managed to say in a small voice, "But… he's touched it."

"Me trick question, I didn't tell ye me trick question," Jack said, still absorbed in his papers. "It's the last one."

Siren turned back to the page, read the final question, then wrinkled her brow.

"What valuable substance is made from nothing but the byproducts of crystallizing sugar cane? How is that a—"

"Because the answer isn't rum. It's molasses," Jack announced smugly.

"But isn't rum also—"

"Ye need to add water to make it ferment proper," the captain reminded her, then paused and looked down at the paper before him. "'Nothing but,' it says. How d'ye spell metaphysical?" Siren gave him a disoriented look.

"You're grading a rum test. I'd think the more appropriate question would be, why?"

If they had had a soundtrack, it would have been something ceremonial and celebratory sounding, with rhythmic drumbeats and a trumpet fanfare, but they did not have a soundtrack. They had to settle for the soft background murmur of the wind and water and the sound of Siren and the Captain arguing in lowered voices in the background while they and the rest of the Pearl's crew stood on deck, waiting.

"… thought you said you had them… we can't graduate them properly without…"

"… ye're the one in charge of all the borin' bits, think o' somethin' yerself!"

"… this is why you get slapped so often, you …"

"… think I have an idea…"

The two of them disappeared down a hatch, still whispering. The soundtrack continued to not play. The sound of Barbossa tapping one foot was the only thing to break the silence.

"Well, this is anticlimactic," Becca said finally.

"She's not allowed to slap him, is she?" Angel asked a little worriedly.

"I don't think so," Tierza said with a shrug. "Besides, what good would it do? Has slapping Jack ever done anyone any good? He certainly doesn't change."

"That's Captain Jack, if you please," Jack said as he climbed back up the hatch with what looked like a broken mug in one hand. "And I have just saved the day, once again." He gestured elaborately with it as he walked across the deck towards them, Siren following him and looking like she wanted to argue with this. "As your degrees in fanfiction writing have been unavoidably detained on account of us being unaware of their current location, you will be receiving something even better."

"Gold?" Holly asked with interest.

"A kiss?" Kelsey looked wistfully at Jack, who announced,

"Souveniers!"

They blinked at him.

"You see, just this mornin', I found where that accursed monkey has been 'idin' away all the li'l things he has stolen! So from that stash shall come your souveniers."

"Will Kat please come forward," Siren commanded, and Kat stepped up. Barbossa unsheathed his sword and lightly tapped her once on each shoulder with it.

"You are now declared an officially certified fanfiction writer," he pronounced.

"And in recognition for your bravery in battle, you are awarded…" Jack fished through the contents of the mug… "One… piece of a broken dagger blade. Don't know why 'e stole that. P'raps because it's shiny. See? Shiny. Here you go." He handed it to her with a flourish. Kat bit back a grin.

"Thank you, Captain."

"Linsey, please come forward." Linsey bowed her head as Barbossa dubbed her a fanfiction writer and then stepped up to Jack and Siren eagerly.

"In lieu of your degree, you are awarded the half of a broken pencil that has an eraser on it," Siren told her solemnly, taking it out of the mug and putting it in Linsey's hands, "In hopes that it will be used to eradicate all traces of Sue-ness from your character." Linsey looked sheepish as she stepped back to stand with the other students.

"If Summer will now come forward…" Siren began, and Summer went to stand before Barbossa to be dubbed, then practically bounced up to get her souvenier.

"And you must take this cork from a rum bottle," Jack said, giving her a cork, "In appreciation of you havin' bought me rum, which was an excellent thing to do and should be done entirely more often." Summer took the cork and bowed to them, looking smug.

"Holly." Once Holly had been dubbed, Siren pulled a coin out of her pocket. "You are the lucky recipent of this tuppence that I found in the bilges, in the hopes that no character in your fics will ever bathe in bilgewater again." Holly grinned, tossed it into the air and caught it, and tucked it into her own pocket.

Becca was next.

"And for you, I 'ave… a piece of driftwood that looks a bit like a kraken tentacle… well, it does, if you 'old it upside down, then squint at it funny," Jack insisted, demonstrating, when Becca looked doubtful. "As encouragement for you to continue settin' the excellent example of writin' about the kraken instead of writin' about me goin' all gooey and romantic—" he grimaced as he spoke—"over unnatural women." He tossed her the driftwood, which she caught, tilting her head as she looked at it, trying to see a tentacle. He shooed her away as Siren called the next name, which was Sarah's. She stood very straight as Barbossa tapped each of her shoulders with his sword, then walked over to Jack and Siren, looking curious.

"And you are awarded a piece of braid that we think fell off Will's hat at some point," Siren said, pulling it out of the mug and offering it to the younger woman, "For being the only Will fangirl not to try to grope him at some point or other during the term." Sarah giggled and took it.

"Grace," Siren said next, and Grace stepped forward to be dubbed a fanfiction writer, giving Barbossa a shy smile.

"And for you, we seem to 'ave…" Jack fished around in the mug again, picked something out, and made a face at it. "Whose is this? Is that… I think it's a button from yer coat," he told Barbossa. Barbossa took in the way Grace was looking at him and smiled slightly.

"Let the lass have it."

"All right. You are 'ereby awarded one button off of the coat of a vile piece of scum and a known mutineer, er… as a reminder," Jack improvised wildly, "To always keep yer clothing buttoned, unless of course you're takin' it off, or 'aven't entirely gotten it on yet, or it's very hot out." He presented Grace with the button, which she took, laughing.

"For Koneka," Siren said. She peered into the mug, shaking it a bit as Barbossa dubbed the student, then pulling something out. "The other half of Linsey's pencil. Use it to write something since you are now fully qualified to do so."

Kelsey was next, and Jack glanced into the mug.

"No… no, that won't do… that's fer the other one… Bugger. Oh well." He reached back and with a bit of effort, removed a filthy glass bead from one of his dreadlocks, handing it to Kelsey, who took it with a delighted squeal as the rest of the Jack fangirls watched jealously. "In recognition of your ability to save rum,"Jack told her solemnly. "Now, no more silliness from you."

"Aye, aye, captain," Kelsey told him and spun around, clutching the bead tightly to her chest. Next was Nina, to whom Siren gave a misshapen but rather interesting seashell, "In the hope your characters will never be normal or average and always be extraordinary." Cate was dubbed next, with a slight metallic clank as the steel of the sword met the steel of her shoulders, and was given a bent nail by Jack.

"It fits, 'cause ye're metal, see?"

When it was Angel's turn, Siren called a halt to the proceedings so she could get something from belowdecks, and returned carrying the undead sponge, which she had retrieved from the Dauntless earlier that day.

"This is for you," she told Angel with a proud smile, "In honor of the way your creator has cleaned up the inconsistencies and Sueishness in your life history." Angel looked a little uncertain and Siren patted her on the shoulder. "You'll find out when you get back."

When Tierza was called up and Barbossa tapped each of her shoulders in turn, she burst into sentimental tears, to everyone's surprise. Barbossa fumbled in his pocket for a moment and handed her a handkerchief, which she took and wiped her eyes with, giving him a tearful but grateful smile.

"Well, I s'pose that's yer souvenier right there, then," Jack said with a shrug. "Good thing, too, it was that or a bit o' chewed 'ardtack. Keep the 'anky, then."

"I'll treasure it," Tierza said with a sniffle, hugging it to herself. Then, a second later, in a less happy voice, as she got a closer look at her prize. "It's got a clump of dried snot in it!"

"Well, it's a handkerchief, isn't it?" Angel asked, giving her a weird look. "What did you think they were used for?"

"And finally, Abby," Siren spoke over their voices, giving them an exasperated look. When Barbossa had dubbed her, she stepped up to receive her "degree" and Jack smiled wickedly at her.

"Ye're now the proud owner of this fish skull, as a reward fer 'avin' braved the mysteries of the deep despite bein' absolutely 'orrified of 'em up-close-like." Abby gingerly took the fish skull from his hand and smiled when he winked at her.

She'd miss Jack—in fact, she'd miss all the pirates. Not the idealized versions of them that she'd had in her head before, but the confusing, unpredictable, screwed up people they'd turned out to be in real life. She'd also miss some things about Port Royal—certainly not the inns or the bathroom facilities, but she found she'd grown fond of the sounds of the market and the smell of the sea. And she'd never have the chance to be the captain of a ship, or to be shipwrecked on an island, or to make out with Edward, who she'd managed to see briefly earlier that morning and say an awkward goodbye to before they left the harbor.

Going home, though… going home would be good. As the storyverse began to fade from around her and the surface beneath her feet changed from wooden planks to soft carpeting, she took one last breath of the sea air and held it in her lungs as her room slowly appeared around her. Glancing down at herself, she was startled to see that her clothes looked exactly the same as they had before she left, without any of the stains and tears and dirt they'd acquired in the past weeks. To her relief, the fish skull she'd been given was still in her hand, but her hands themselves were clean and uncallused, and when she looked at the clock, she saw that only a few minutes had passed since she had signed the admission form. It was only about nine o' clock at night, and she had a head full of knowledge and stories waiting to be written.

She sat down at her computer and started to type.