Disclaimer: All characters and dialogue belong to Disney.

A/N: Drabble, part two of two. On Rum Runner's Island, great minds think – and lie – more alike than they realize. J/E.

Rum and Firelight II
By: Sinnamon Spider

"We're devils, we're black sheep, we're really bad eggs! Drink up, me hearties, yo ho!" The two governors of Rum Runner's Island danced around the huge bonfire, singing off-key.

"Yo ho, yo – Ouch!" Jack stubbed his toe on a particularly sharp shell half-buried in the sand, stumbling and nearly falling headlong into the fire. He watched the lithe girl fake another swig, neatly pouring out another third of the bottle into the sand when she thought he wasn't looking.

She had something in mind, and while Jack would never deprive himself of free, long-matured rum, he drank considerably less than he might have.

He didn't trust this girl.

When he plopped down on the sand and she curled into him, he grinned. He was good enough at playing drunk to pull her closer, to snake his arm around her shoulders, to trail his fingers down her skin, to gently nuzzle her face. He felt her lean in for a few seconds before she pulled away, haughtily chastising him for such impropriety, but there was uncertainty and maybe just a little bit of desire in her brown eyes.

And when he dropped back on the sand, feigning unconsciousness, he didn't have long to wait before she pressed herself against him again, resting her blonde head on his chest. He lazily tightened his arms around her, falling asleep with more ease than ever.