Title: Dislike

Author: Eurothrashed

Feedback: Yes, please. E-mail in bio.

Disclaimer: My muse, who is an independent if minor deity, possessed them like whoa.

Rating: Pg13

Summary: Elizabeth does not like Jack. Really.

A/N This was what I had planned for Priorities 2/2, but it didn't fit, and reads better all on its onesies.

"I take back every good thought I have ever had about you, Captain Sparrow," Elizabeth cried, cradling her head, "You are an evil, evil man!"

"Oh, lovey, you're just hungover," Jack said, "You don't really mean all that." He was still rubbing her back and holding her hair, even though she had stopped vomiting... Elizabeth lurched forward, hands frantically moving to hold herself upright as more acidic rum burned up her already raw throat.

Jack was vile; rum was vile; of those two things she was quite sure. It was all his bloody fault for handing her that extra bottle of rum, and then the next that followed, which she noted in a dazed was still half-full and laying in the midst of a crumbling, lopsided sandcastle. What had they been doing earlier that night? She couldn't remember; things were fuzzy.

"I do mean it," Elizabeth moaned trying to sit up, and only succeeding when Jack offered a hand to steady her, "You're vile."

"I thought I was evil," Jack said, sounding truly perplexed.

"That too."

"Yes, well," Jack said with a sigh, "I wouldn't like me right now either."

"Good. We agree, then. Neither of us like you."

"That's not what I said, love."

"That's the trouble with you bloody pirates," Elizabeth muttered unhappily, "You always say things, but never what you really mean, and then you twist it around so what you do say doesn't even mean what it should."

"You lost me," Jack said, the confusion clear on his face.

Elizabeth gave Jack a dark look, her hands itching to slap him. "If someone made you swear on... well, on whatever it is that you hold dear," Elizabeth said, trying to think of what Jack would have to swear on to keep his word (his ship, most likely), "Not to do something, and you did; you would already be working out a way to do it without actually breaking your oath, wouldn't you?"

"Darling, I, unlike you, am still pleasantly drunk," Jack said, "Less words."

"Loop holes, Captain Sparrow! Loop holes!"

"Aye, what about them?"

With a groan of frustration, Elizabeth threw herself back on the sand, which did nothing to help her headache or her nausea.

Bloody annoying man.

"I don't like you."

"I think you mentioned that already."

"Even so," Elizabeth persisted, "I really don't like you."

Jack sighed, and patted her arm; the entire time giving her a look of unmistakable understanding that reminded her painfully of her father - I know you don't mean it, I love you anyway, and I'll come back later.

Elizabeth glared at Jack's retreating back as he drunkenly swayed away from her and the fire; what right did he have giving her looks like that?

"I mean it!" she shouted after him, the throbbing ache in her head immediately making her wish she hadn't.

"Of course, you do, darling," was his indulgent reply, "Of course, you do."

Scowling, Elizabeth closed her eyes, trying to recall what had transpired between her and Jack before she had passed out and then woken up with this horrid hangover. It was still dark out, and the fire was still burning bright, so she must have not been out for very long. She remembered Jack talking about the Pearl standing for freedom or somesuch and then something about the scenery being better than last time... oh, and those blasted hands of his.

"Mister Sparrow," Elizabeth remembered saying, moving out Jack's too-friendly embrace, "I'm not entirely sure that I've had enough rum to allow that kind of talk."

"Easily fixed, darling." He had winked and handed her another bottle of rum. What had it been, her second? Third? "I'm the temporary Governor of this wretched spit of land, savvy?" Jack had continued, stressing the 'temporary' part with an easy smile, "An' I say that the rum shall flow like water till you can allow that kind of talk." Almost as an after-thought, he had added, "An' it's Captain Sparrow, love. Captain."

Elizabeth remembered looking at the bottle... and Jack talking her into drinking more.

Oh curse pirates bearing rum; the whole point of her plan was to get Jack drunk and hopelessly befuddled, not her.

Elizabeth exhaled slowly as she tried to remember all the details.

She must have set her rum down on Jack's sandcastle; she must have, but she couldn't remember. She did remember him insisting that it was a governor's mansion though, going on and on that since he was a governor, he needed a proper governor's mansion.

"It looks like a castle," Elizabeth had informed him, pointing towards the turrets and the moat.

"Well, Lizzie, my girl, if I'm forced to have a home on land, God forbid, I'm going t'have the best bloody one." Jack had grinned widely and pulled her over to see where he was planning to put a wine cellar - which, he had told her, would be filled to bursting with rum. After all, who ever heard of a pirate having wine in their wine cellar? Elizabeth had nodded in the face of Jack's muddy, drunken logic, and silently wondered what the other pirates would think.

Finally stumbling back towards her, Jack noticed the damage that had befallen his 'mansion' and tilted his head. "Don't you think a skylight is overdoin' it a bit?"

"I'm not talking to you," Elizabeth said, rolling onto her side, looking anywhere but at Jack. Her head hurt, she was sick to her stomach, and all because Jack got it into his head to share his horrible, vile drink. Evil, evil man.

"Oh," Jack said, sounding mildly disappointed, "An why's that?"

"I feel dreadful, an it's your fault that I do."

"Ah, yes, you're hungover," he gave her an uncomfortable smile, "About that, love- -"

"I don't want to hear it," she snapped, or, well, tried to snap. It came out more of a tired whine. "Any excuses you could make would be wasted anyway."

"S'that so?" Jack asked.

"I couldn't get up to slap you even if I wanted to."

Looking unbelievably relieved, Jack smiled and awkwardly patted her arm again. "There there, Miss Swann. You'll be up an' bein' your feisty self in no time."

"Yes," Elizabeth said with a slow, measured nod, "Then I'll slap you."

Jack didn't look too happy about that.

END