|That Godforsaken Spit of Land
Author: dark-hearted rose PM
[[COMPLETE!]] Jack and Elizabeth are stranded on a desert island, that much is certain. The question is...will they survive? Rated for mild language...they are pirates, after all.Rated: Fiction T - English - Humor - Capt. Jack Sparrow & Elizabeth S. - Chapters: 3 - Words: 2,722 - Reviews: 37 - Favs: 8 - Follows: 12 - Updated: 08-03-06 - Published: 06-27-06 - Status: Complete - id: 3011953
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Here it is...the final installment of this noble journey of mine!
First off, I apologize for the confusion: I never intended this to be a hp/potc crossover (sorry). I just needed a random character to show up; therefore, I have no further intention of continuing the story with Harry in it. However, since there's been such an amazing response to the fact Harry shows up, perhaps I can work on something along the lines of what happened in those few hours Harry was on the island...it all depends on you guys, of course.
Oh, just a head's up...there's a little poke at something I don't really like all that much at the very end of the chapter. Hope you enjoy reading it just as much as I enjoyed writing it, if not more.
Now, without further ado...chapter three!
Chapter 3: Get Lost
In which…well, you can just see for yourself.
Jack's head was spinning. He had just spent a few hours with that Potter bloke, discussing some of life's greatest mysteries, examining such questions as: "What is the true nature of good and evil?", "Why do boy bands sing like little girls?", and, "Is it chicken, or tuna?"
Who knew? How did he know that this island really existed? That it just wasn't a figment of his imagination? He had thought it impossible to just appear out of thin air, but now he knew better…
Walking up to the water's edge, he shed his left boot and stuck his big toe into the spray. Yup, he thought. I'm here, sure enough. I'm still here on this goddam island…
He looked over his shoulder at the inert form lying on the beach a few yards from him. Poor lass, he thought. She's going to have a hell of a headache when she wakes up.
He flopped back down on the sand, looking to the east; dawn was breaking. Almost a full day. Dear God, I hope we get off this thing soon. He deeply envied the Potter boy; he could come and go at will with the use of that little stick he carried around! But, then again, he didn't think he'd very much like being pursued all over Britain by one of the most evil—what was the word again? Wizard? Yes, that was it.—wizards of the century. Hell, he didn't even like being chased by other pirates, let alone that fellow.
His thoughts were interrupted by a loud groan. He looked over at Elizabeth and saw that she was starting to regain consciousness.
"Oh my God," she said, her voice hoarse. She sat up, then immediately fell back onto the sand again, bringing a hand to her head. "What happened?"
"You were drunk," he said. "Seeing as you managed to down a whole bottle of rum in a matter of seconds, I'm not surprised."
She sat up again, a string of rather offensive curses slipping out of her mouth. At Jack's surprised look, she said with a shrug, "I've been hanging around pirates for too long."
He chuckled. "For some reason, I've got the strange notion that you already knew those words, Miss Swann."
She glared at him, looking all the more menacing because of her hangover. "Oh, go to hell, Jack."
"Not yet, I won't," he replied giddily, coming to his feet. "Not when I'm still quite alive and ticking, thank you." He paused. "Which is more than I can say for you, at present."
"God, Jack, will you just go away? I'm trying to pretend you're not here, and it doesn't help that you keep chattering at me like that idiotic monkey of Barbossa's."
"All right, fine," he replied, starting to walk away. "But how do you think the monkey feels about what you just said, eh?" he said in a loud whisper.
"Okay! All right! I'll shut up!" Women! he thought, annoyed. There's no living with them…but there's sure as hell no living without them.
Norrington looked up at the sailor stationed in the Crow's Nest. "What is it, Jones?"
"Signal fire on that island over there!" Jones replied, pointing southwest.
Sure enough, there was the smoke, rising some hundreds of feet above the island. He pulled out his spyglass and peered through it. "That's it, there," he said. "Make for the island!" he commanded in the general direction of the helm.
"I thought you were pretending I didn't exist," he said tartly.
"No, but, look! A ship!"
He sat up slowly from where he'd been sunbathing on the beach. "Oh, how absolutely wonderful!" he said with heavy sarcasm. "Commodore to the rescue, eh?"
"But, we're going to live! We're not going to die! We're not going to die!"
He sighed. "Aye, there'll be no living with her after this," he muttered.
"What did you say, Jack?" asked Elizabeth suspiciously.
"Oh, nothing. Nothing at all…" he said between clenched teeth.
"Elizabeth, are you all right?" asked Norrington as the two were brought aboard.
She launched herself at him, hugging him tightly. "Oh, God, you have no idea how grateful I am! …I could…I could marry you!" she exclaimed.
"Oh, really?" said Norrington, an eyebrow cocked in surprise.
"A wedding? I love weddings!" said Jack. "Drinks all around!"
"Not just yet, Mr. Sparrow," said Norrington. "Men, cast off!" he shouted at the crew.
"I know," said Jack, putting his wrists together and stretching his arms out in front of him. "'Clap him in irons', right?"
"Mr. Sparrow, I want you to help us to chart a course to the Isla de Muerta. Afterwards, you will contemplate all possible meanings of the phrase 'Silent as the grave'. Do I make myself clear?"
Jack sighed. "Inescapably."
Norrington nodded, satisfied. "Good." He turned to leave, the rest of the crew with him, leaving Jack alone for a few moments.
Jack looked out at the island as the ship caught wind and began the journey to Isla de Muerta. It doesn't look all that small from this angle, thought Jack in surprise. We might not have starved after all.
He turned away and walked up the deck to join Norrington at the map, and at that moment an airplane, part of it engulfed in flames, split in half in midair, each respective half landing on opposite sides of that godforsaken spit of land.
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