ONE: Recipe for Adventure
"Will you promise to be good if I take the gag off?" Elizabeth asked, not being able to help a small smirk. Cutler Beckett rolled his eyes, looking completely exasperated, but nodded anyhow. "You wont do anything stupid?" Beckett simply looked offended at this statement. "No sardonic comments?" Beckett's eyebrows both rose a fraction, almost sardonically.
And she was not trusting that.
"I think I'm going to leave it for another hour," Elizabeth said, sitting back and cradling baby William to her chest. Beckett shot her a look that could have singed her hair, but kept quiet. Well, he had no option because of the gag, really.
He was still completely at a loss as to why Elizabeth and Jack would gag him. Certainly, tying him up was probably sensible—they had issues with trust, it would seem—but gagging him? What would that achieve? Beckett was still puzzling over this, and had been three hours. For a highly intelligent man, he certainly could be slow at working things out.
It was especially annoying, as it was his money—which he had had to steal from his own home—that was funding he, Elizabeth Turner (née Swann) and Jack Sparrow's journey from Tortuga to the eastern edge of Cuba, which was apparently where a ship from Tai Huang's fleet was.
If you're new to the series, you can probably tell that there is a little bit of backstory here. You might want to pop back and take a look at the two previous stories of this trilogy (this is the last one! I promise that this is the last one!) to take a look at what happened; though each story is a plot in it's own right, they are connected, and... well, it's always fairly useful to know how people came to be in these absurd positions, isn't it? Speaking of...
How did I come to be here? Beckett thought, in a rather irritated manner, for about the seventh time that hour. If you haven't read the prequels, you are probably wondering that too—well, don't wait for the complimentary summing-up of the past two stories, go read! Shoo!
"I'm goin' to give you some free advice now, Lizzie, and I think you should listen as it's worth twice what you're payin' for it," Jack said from where he was sitting, "And that is this; keep pirating."
"Thank you, Jack," Elizabeth said, in an almost weary tone, "I'm not Lizzie, I'm ex-King Elizabeth."
"Right," Jack grinned slightly, "You are goin' back to bein' a pirate, right? That's what I'm assuming, what with the looking for Tai Huang and all..." He waved an arm airily. Beckett looked disapproving, and Elizabeth smiled.
"Yes, I'm probably going to go back to 'pirating'," Elizabeth said, in an almost admitting tone, "I'm not quite sure yet. I still don't know what to do with him," she nodded towards Beckett; their prisoner, of sorts.
"That's easy, innit?" Jack jerked a thumb over his shoulder, "Sling 'im overboard. Why are we keepin' him?"
"It would be wrong to kill him, after everything that's happened," Elizabeth sighed, "He did save my life. Or try to, in any case," she looked sidelong at Beckett, who was looking indignant, "And I've saved his. I'm saving his right now," she glared at him, "So I would have hoped that he'd be a little more grateful."
This was met with a muted explosion from Beckett. Elizabeth could guess roughly what that meant. Grateful?! You think I'm crazy! And it was true. Elizabeth didn't think that it was anything too worrisome, but she wanted Beckett checked out by a physician... just in case.
"Well, I suppose that's up to you, Lizzie," Jack glanced out at the horizon, leaning back easily, "But I ain't trusting 'im, and that's final."
"I wouldn't expect you to trust him," Elizabeth sighed. Not even she fully trusted Beckett. He was a devious one, that was for sure—even now, she couldn't tell if her was a friend of hers or not. Elizabeth—being a hopeless romantic—would have hoped that he would redeem his past crimes and prove himself to be a true friend, but somehow, that was fairly unlikely, not to mention cheesy. It wasn't his style.
"Good..." Jack idly rubbed his wrist, on an area that had been branded with a red-hot iron, quite a while ago, thanks to a certain somebody. "We don't exactly share good memories, do we, Cutler old chum?"
In reply, Beckett tightened his jaw and sulkily looked away.
Jack, to be honest, was having trouble with his compass. Yet again. Certainly, he had the map, but it was his compass that really helped him out in times of need—and right now, it was doing the old switching trick. It changed; Aqua de Vida, the Black Pearl, Aqua de Vida, the Black Pearl, Aqua de Vida, Tortuga, the Black Pearl... sighing, he picked up Elizabeth's hand, and placed the compass inside it, curling her fingers around it.
"What do you want most in the world... eh?" he asked her, with a roguish grin.
"Will," Elizabeth replied instantly, looking down at their hands, "I want to be with Will again. But I know I can't," she sighed. Jack blinked, brazenly.
"So what do you want most in the world that's possible?" Jack asked.
"I suppose... I just want William to be safe," she sighed and cradled her six-month-old baby to her chest. William; he was nearly seven months old, now, actually. His favourite pastimes included making incoherent noises that he seemed to think as important all the same, and banging things on other things to make noise. He was a delightful baby; though having learned to roll, crawling wasn't far off, and Elizabeth could just scent trouble from that.
"And where will he be safest, eh?" Jack smiled broadly, "On board his own ship, given to you by Tai Huang! So you want to head towards Cuba, don't you?"
"Jack," Elizabeth sighed, "It may be useful to have a compass that actually points north once in a while. Cuba's to the south-east-east of here; we know that. If we had a real compass, we'd be able to get there without all of this farting about with our world's greatest wants!"
"It's workin', innit?" Jack shrugged coolly. Elizabeth nodded reluctantly, and took a look at the compass. Jack peered over her shoulder, and then stood to adjust course accordingly.
Jack's dinghy was gone now; probably squandered somewhere in Tortuga, possibly even sunk. He'd abandoned it in order to extensively borrow (see: steal) this fair dinghy, which went by the cheerful name of the Dead Mallard. What sort of lunatic named their ship after a dead bird, really? (Well, it is slightly logical, seeing as ducks—dead or otherwise—float. And that is a ship's greatest necessity, is it not?)
The Dead Mallard was bigger then Jack's old dinghy, and better... well, for their purposes, anyway. Beckett was at the stern (the very back, for those of you not in the know) tied up and gagged, looking none too pleased with this arrangement. Elizabeth was next to him, cradling William, who was beginning to doze onto her shoulder. And Jack had just finished adjusting the sails during that little description, and had now sat himself down near the front of the boat. Beckett sighed loudly; loud enough to be heard through the gag.
"Tch—I'm sorry, Cutler," Elizabeth said, patting him on the shoulder—he shot her hand a withering look, as if it were contaminated with some terrible disease. "It's for your own good. I'm going to get your head nice and better." Elizabeth felt an evil and sadistic enjoyment at baby-talking Beckett. It was simply too much fun. She even patted him on the cheek. In his bound state, Beckett could do nothing.
"Sorry to interrupt cuddle-time, ladies," Jack said, leaning forwards, "But do any of you, in fact, have any idea what on this entire bloody earth you are doing?" They both blinked at Jack; quite possibly shocked by how sensible his words were, never minding the slur.
"Tai Huang owes me, as I gave him his position... and he'll remember the maelstrom battle; I'm sure that's enough reason to have faith in my powers as a captain," Elizabeth smiled. There were not many females out there who could claim to being captain of a ship; even less Pirate King. At the mention of the maelstrom battle, Beckett flinched slightly. He'd been blown up in that battle. It had not been fun.
"Sane enough," Jack nodded, picking the compass out of Elizabeth's hands and flicking it deftly open, watching the needle twitch and spin slightly. Aqua de Vida, the Black Pearl. Immortality—or his ship. His lovely, lovely ship. Frowning slightly, he looked up towards Beckett. "Oy, Beckett," he said, leaning back again.
Beckett—who had been looking out at the ocean—turned his head towards Jack Sparrow, a look of contempt on what they could see of his face. Jack grinned and held up the compass, shaking it a little.
"What do you want, ay?" Jack asked.
NB: Uh-huh. Here we are with round three. THE FINAL ROUND, FOLKS! Gah, anyhow, here it is. The final installation to the... I don't know... the 'The' trilogy? Well, anyhow, we're finally ready with it. Sorry for the long break between the final two stories, despite the fact they were actually linked. This one comes with ninety-eight percent added adventure!
Ah, and updates. I'm afraid that exams are invading my life in a fairly rude manner. So, updates may be a little... gappy. Uh-huh. No more one-a-day pampering for you guys, I'm afraid:P And, I'll admit that though I have the plot completely planned out, I haven't actually finished writing the fic yet. So... mhm. I have a mission to keep ten chapters ahead of updates, which means I'm doing quite well at the moment.
Anyhow, I'll cut the blabber. Here it is. Hope you enjoy? (Yeah, sequels are never as popular as the original, and threequels even less so. But I'm not here for the gloooory! I just can't stop writing Elizabeth and Beckett, in this situation... it's just so... I don't know. Friendly. Anyway, I said I'd cut the blabber.)
Disclaimer: Consider it disclaimed.