Author's Notes: This is my first fic for Pirates and I do hope it's well received. Reviews are welcome and probably over-appreciated.

I'm doubtful regarding my ability to write for Jack well, so I hope he is not too OOC. If he is, please do not refrain from leaving constructive criticism as a review, those are always the most helpful. :P

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Pirates of the Caribbean: Tales of Things and Such
Chapter One: When We Last Left Our Not-So Intrepid Adventurers . . .

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The man groaned in displeasure as he pulled off his boot, pouring water and seaweed from it onto the white sandy beach, “Stranded again,” he pulled off the second boot, ridding it of water and a rather troublesome crab, talking bemusedly to himself, “Just your luck, eh? Ah, better stranded than dead, I suppose.”

He looked out across the now-so-peaceful looking sea from which he'd come. The water seemed to be tinted a slight pink all around, as though something rather large were bleeding beneath it, “Sorry, beastie,” He tipped his tricorn towards the water respectfully, “But I'm afraid you'll have to remember today as the day you almost ate Captain. Jack. Sparrow,” He looked around the strange island, “Now, with any luck, there'll be rum.”

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“What have I done?” Elizabeth quietly questioned her pillow, on the verge of tears, “Oh, how could I have done such a thing? And now there's no way to get him back.”

What little hope they had had of seeing Jack Sparrow again had vanished. Upon reaching the locker of Davy Jones, the land of the nautical dead, they had been unable to find, let alone rescue, the pirate captain she had left for bait for the Kraken. She whimpered a bit, pouring her thoughts out to no one but her pillow, “I didn't think I'd be sorry. He's just a pirate, he'd have done the same to me or Will,” she attempted to reason with her bedsheets, “I told him I wasn't sorry. I shouldn't be sorry. He was a criminal, anywa--”

A knock at her cabin door interrupted her monologue, her futile attempt at relieving herself of grief, “Elizabeth?”

“Will,” she sighed happily, eager for an escape from her thoughts. She opened the door quickly to see the solemn looking young man waiting, “C-come in.”

“Are you alright?” He pulled her into his arms, concerned, “You look like you've been crying.”

“I-I'm fine,” she laughed hesitantly, “I was just, eh, thinking . . . about our wedding. Missing it and all,” she stepped away from him quickly, turning to rifle through some papers she'd never seen; no doubt property of the man who had slept here before Barbossa had . . . commandeered this ship.

“We all miss Jack,” Will placed a comforting hand on her turned shoulder, feeling her shiver slightly beneath it. He gently turned her around with a stern look on his face, “Elizabeth, I don't know . . . I don't know what happened between you and Jack but I don't care. That-that's behind us now. For good. We will go back to Tortuga and we will have our wedding.”

His words of comfort and reassurance did not soothe Elizabeth, however. Though the man was gone she couldn't deny that the feelings he had stirred within her remained. Jack Sparrow or none, she still felt guilty every time she looked into her fiance's knowing eyes. He had seen her on the deck of the Black Pearl. Her and Jack. Jack and her. Them. She knew she had hurt him and if anything his acceptance of what had happened just caused her more inner turmoil. That he was taking such . . . comfort? No, that wouldn't be the right word . . . That he was taking such solace in the loss of Jack Sparrow unsettled her.

Why should he feel sorrow for Jack? She questioned herself, looking into Will's gentle stare, How many times had Jack traded Will's life for his own? Two? Three? More? Will's right to not be sorry. He's right. Jack's gone and there's nothing that can be done about it. I-I should move on. Wedding. Yes. Will and I will get married. That's what I wanted from the start, isn't it? And that's what I want now? Yes. Yes it is, she thought stubbornly, sure she could talk herself out of such troublesome thoughts of a roguish pirate captain.

“Our wedding,” she smiled at Will, finally prompting a smile from him as well, “Yes. That will be lovely. Finally,” she laughed a bit, nervously.

He nodded and leaned in, kissing her lightly. His kisses were always loving and gentle, fine points in their own right, but now she could not help but know that they fell short of the passion she had felt behind one certain kiss.

As he left her to her thoughts she slumped back onto her hard bunk, thoughts of a kind man who loved her and cared for her and protected her so much once again at war with thoughts of a man who had, within moments of meeting her, saved her, stripped her to her undergarments, and traded her life for an old hat, a compass that didn't point North, and a pistol with only one shot.

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“What's that then?” Captain Richard Gentry handed his spyglass to his first mate who stood beside him as they both peered at the small islet off the port side of their ship.

“Where?”

“There, on the shore, moving about there.”

“I-I think it's a person, sir,” Rogers squinted through the glass, attempting to train it on the object darting back and forth and waving wildly at the ship as though dancing some sort of strange dance. He handed the glass back to his captain, “What do you make of it?”

“Probably some marooned pirate, I'd wager,” he took another look at the figure, “He looks a fright. Well, we'd best pick him up. If he is a pirate there may be a price on his head, if we're lucky. Drop the rowboat and go get him.”

“Aye, captain,” he signaled to several crewmen to ready the boat, “Let's go pick him up, men.”

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Author's Notes: My apologies for the shortness of this chapter. Am just trying to get all the introductory information out of the way before we get into the fun. :P Once again, please do review. This is no hostage fic (aka you review or I don't update sort of a thing) but I will say that I do really pay attention to my stories that obviously have loyal readers. :P