DISCLAIMER: I don’t own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie franchise or any of the characters or dialogue associated with the film. They are the property of the Walt Disney Corporation.

AN: So, this is something that I started before MWTLGO and it is probably a bit rough. I'm having trouble with tenses in this particular piece, but...meh. Updates will be few and far between, fair warning. Oh, don't be fooled by the way this chapter ends...I assure you this is Willabeth.

Rough fingers brushed the soft skin of my back and I was on fire. I could feel him tugging impatiently at the stays of the corset, feverishly releasing me from my whalebone prison. And, he was kissing me, oh, was he kissing me! Wild passionate madness, sweetly entangled tongues – I was in heaven, surely. The rugged stubble on his chin was chafing against my face as he kissed me with bruising force, but I had never wanted anything more. It was so familiar, the way his hand knotted in my hair, the touch of his work-worn hands against my skin, the way he loved me. It was always the same: he stopped kissing me and stood back. It always happened this way and I always saw his face. His eyes were warm and understanding, puddles of chocolate. His face, soft and boyish hidden behind a thin veneer of rugged manliness, was framed with long, dark brown curls. He reminded me of a pirate. As always, he speaks one word, a name, my name: Elizabeth. And, then I wake up.

I don’t know this man; I’ve never seen him before in my life. Yet, he haunts my dreams daily. He is, quite literally, the man of my dreams. So, who is he? Why am I in a corset? Why does he look like he just walked out of an Errol Flynn movie? Why does he know my name? I don’t understand it. At first, I brushed it off – a dream, nothing more. But, each time, each night, the dream started to feel more and more real. It feels as though I have lived this before. I should know him, and I daresay his face is familiar to me, somehow. I wish I knew him. It would make my lonely existence that much better if I had a delicious hunk of eye candy kissing me like that. Alas, I have no such eye candy, but I do have a dead end job for which I am about to be very late.

My morning routine is bland. I wake up, I pee, I brush my teeth, I shower, get dressed, eat a touch of breakfast and disappear out the door. Dull. As I pull my hair into a ponytail, I think of my dream man. Would he find me attractive if I were to meet him here, in the real world? I poke my cheek derisively. I could be pretty, I suppose. My face is well-structured: high cheek bones, wide dark eyes, and a fairly generous mouth. My hair is blonde…ish. Okay, so it’s brown! But, I have highlights! My eyes skim down to my outfit: a pair of well-worn flared jeans and an oversized polo shirt. My mother always called me a tomboy. She told me that if I didn’t start behaving like a girl, I’d never find a man. Now that I’m out of the house, I don’t have to hear it anymore. Ironically, this also means that I’m not forced to admit that she was right.

When I get to work, I am practically attacked by my supervisor, Anamaria. She’s smiling widely, almost sinisterly and I am afraid of what sneaky little task she has for me today. I’m a fulltime mailroom clerk, part-time spy. Anamaria and I became fast friends almost from the time I walked into the interview. She seemed to understand my need to escape my parents by any means possible. Even a dead end job. I’m still young, just twenty-one, plenty of time to figure out my life – or so Ana tells me daily.

“Have I got a treat for you!” she exclaims conspiratorially into my ear. She hooks my arm and drags me along with her and I groan. Every ‘treat’ she has ever had for me involved me being relieved of my duties for a couple of hours to climb into a ventilation shaft and spy on her latest boss/boyfriend. As far as I know, she’s not seeing anyone right now so I can’t think of what she wants.

“Great,” I mutter unhappily. Ana draws back and stares at me.

“Well, if that’s the way you feel, maybe I’ll just keep him to myself,” she says hotly, her hands on her hips. I stare at her, confused, and she motions with her eyes behind me. Frowning, I turn to follow her gaze. My breath catches in my throat and I hear Ana chuckle behind me. She sneaks up and puts her hands on my shoulders so that she can whisper into my ear.

“Isn’t he delicious?”

“Surreally so,” I manage to reply. I can’t stop staring. I admit, he’s cleaner, his face is smooth and his hair is short; he looks more like a casual GQ model as opposed to a pirate, but my God, he’s the man in my dreams! He looks considerably more confused than his imaginary counterpart and a little less confident, but hey, I’m not wearing a corset so I guess we’re even. As I’m contemplating the existence of fate versus coincidence, I hear Ana prattling away in my ear.

“I’d keep him for myself, but he’s not my type.”

I snort derisively. “Too young.”

Ana punches me lightly in the shoulder and I smile widely, finally turning to look at her.

“You likey?” she asks teasingly. I smirk violently.

“Can I keep him?”

Ana raises her eyebrows. “You want to keep him already? He might just be a pretty face with nothing going on upstairs.”

I look back at my dream man and stifle a giggle as he picks up the first magazine he finds while he waits. It’s a Cosmo. He opens it without looking at the cover, starts in a shocked manner, and then tosses it back on the table, glancing around for any witnesses. He’s a bit hapless, and it’s true it could all be the result of the ‘pretty boy’ disease, but it’s adorable.

“Well, if all else fails I can hang him on my wall. What is he doing anyway?”

Ana grins at me and dread fills my very being. “Waiting to be trained. Your wish is his command, honey.”

With that, she was gone, giggling to herself. I stare at him from across the busy room. Does he have these dreams, too? I bite my lip. There’s only one way to find out and I still have to train the poor guy. I take a deep breath and hold my head high as I walk towards him. He looks up at me nervously and when our eyes meet the world seems to fall away. I find myself hoping against hope that he has these dreams as well, that this isn’t just some incredibly odd coincidence. At the same time, I pray that he’s got a brain in his head. I was determined to greet him with confidence, but it fell away in that moment.

“Hi,” I manage to squeak out, and the moment is lost.

“Hello,” he says, his voice is crisp and warm. He smiles sheepishly at me and I can feel my face echo the expression.

I hesitate. I’m not sure I want to tell him my name, in fact, I almost want to see if he can come up with it by himself. Suddenly, as I’m becoming lost in those pools of chocolate, a word comes to mind: Will. Will? Is that his name? I can test it, I suppose, since he may have figured that I would have been told his name. It’s clear he isn’t going to make the first move so I decide to feel him out.

“Your name is…Will, right?”

He looks startled, as though he didn’t expect me to know…or worse, I’m wrong. My heart has sped up to a ridiculous pace and I can’t seem to think straight. I’m silently pleading with him to answer in the affirmative. Finally, his face breaks into an easy smile.

“Yes and you’re Elizabeth,” he says without any trepidation. I blink at him and as though reading my thoughts he tells me:

“Ana told me.”

I nod, feeling slightly disappointed. I was hoping that he would just know. But, then again, even if he did – would he tell me? He just met me.

“I prefer Liz,” I say softly as I start to lead him through the mailroom. Ana should know that, and that’s when I realize that Ana hadn’t told him anything. The idea, however unfounded, sends a chill through me.

“Oh, sorry,” he replied equally softly. I tried to pretend that he didn’t unnerve me, following behind me like that. I felt incredibly self-conscious.

“So, we pick up mail here,” I explained, showing him where the inboxes were, “And, you deliver it into those many, many slots over there.”

Will looked at me expectantly. “That’s it?”

I smiled ruefully. “Not much to the training, huh?”

“Apparently not,” he agrees.

I realize that this was a huge set up by Ana, but I feel awkward around this man whose name I seem to know. I’m not sure what to say, and it seems neither is he.

“So, is there like a lunch room or something?” he asks after an uncomfortable pause. I can feel my cheeks burning. What was I thinking? I guess I wasn’t, after all. I guess I was thinking about my dream.

“Yes, of course there is. I’m sorry, Will,” I say shaking my head. He smiles at me so softly and my heart just melted. I’m really not sure how the day is going to go at this rate. We parted after I showed him the lunch room and I go about my day, thinking constantly of him. I already know his smell. It’s very weird indeed. I had luckily not had the chance to run into him again until the end of the day. I was just rounding the corner, on my way to the locker room when Ana pops out of nowhere.

“Liz! I want you to come out tonight!” she exclaims loudly. I notice that Will is behind her and he smiles lightly. “I want you to meet Jack.”

“Jack?” I say after catching my breath.

“My new boyfriend?” she says, rolling her eyes at me as though I should have known instantly who ‘Jack’ was.

“Um, okay,” I mumble as Will starts to walk past us. Ana grabs for his wrist and drags him towards us. He’s so sweet, the way he smiles so sheepishly.

“Come out tonight, Will,” Ana commands smiling at me deviously over his shoulder. My mouth falls open and I can’t think of anything to say besides her name – a little too loudly. Will turns and gives me an unsure look, as though he would have considered it except for my outburst.

“I have, um, plans tonight anyway,” Will says, staring right at me and daring me to ask him what they are. My mouth moves of its own accord.

“Plans?”

I hate the way my voice sounds – wounded and small. Will smiles instantly, almost apologetically.

“Fencing,” he says quickly. “I’m training. I train every night.”

He shrugs and looks wonderfully adorable. I think we both seem to have forgotten about Ana. I can see her smirking out of the corner of my eye. Nothing makes her happier than playing the matchmaker. I always call her Emma because she can never seem to make a good match for herself. Where is her Mr. Knightley? Could it be this Jack? Who knows? Quite frankly, I don’t care right now. I think I found something I was meant to; I think I found a missing piece of me.

“Fencing? Like, with swords?”

His smile grows even wider. “Yes, with swords,” he answers, amused. I smile like an idiot because I feel like an idiot. What kind of a question was that? Do people train to put up fences? Of course not!

“All night?” I ask, despite myself. God, I hope he doesn’t have a girlfriend.

“No, just three hours. I could come out around eleven?”

Finally he turns back to Ana who is smirking ferociously. Her face falls to deadpan when he looks at her.

“Eleven is perfect. It’s the weekend after all. Go wild,” she says with a wink.

“Um, right, where?”

“Oh, The Pearl, of course,” Ana says, smiling widely as she walked away.

Will turns to me and shrugs. “Of course. I’ll see you later, then?”

“Naturally,” I reply, immediately feeling like a moron. I watch him walk away, unable to keep my eyes from sliding down his back and resting on his bottom. Fencing has got to be the answer, keeps a man fit, I’d wager. Oh, bugger. What am I going to wear?

I decided, at length, on my tiny, miniscule oh-my-God-my-legs-don’t-quit black, silk dress. I reserve it for such special occasions as seducing my co-worker who haunts my dreams. God, what is wrong with me!? I let my hair down for once, allowing its natural curl to do its thing. A little make up and I’m good to go. I also look considerably better than any other time I’ve gone to The Pearl in recent memory. I give myself one last look in the mirror and decide that if he doesn’t want me at my best, he won’t want me at all. Black silk is a far cry from whalebone corsets, but I think it’s a better cry. Yes, certainly better.

I caught a cab to The Pearl and when we arrived I looked at the line warily. Was he already in it? Glancing at the blaring digital clock in the cab, I notice that it’s now five past eleven. Fashionably late? Maybe by normal terms, but hideously early by The Pearl’s terms. The Black Pearl is the newest, hottest nightclub in London. The music is pulsing, the clientele are trendy, and the drinks are always flowing. It is the place to be. And, Ana just happens to have an in somehow. Could be her new boyfriend, who knows. Regardless, she called me an hour ago to tell me that I’m on the list, but she couldn’t get Will on it. As I get out of the cab, my eyes skim the seemingly never ending line up. I can’t see him at all, and I know that I would if he was there. Maybe he was standing us up.

The bouncer, Eddie, recognizes me and smiles.

“Looking hot tonight, Liz,” he whispers as he moves to let me pass. Eddie is the gayest man I know and his words make me giggle. I wink at him as I pass and there is a collective groan from the line up. Ah, the perks of being on the list! The music is just pounding inside the club. Wild, sensual, hormonally driven beats. This crowd is not one for writhing around on the dance floor and so the bar gladly does not stink of sweat. I spot Ana over by the bar, her dark arm draped easily around the shoulders of a dark haired man. I can only assume that it’s her boyfriend. As though on cue, Ana looks up and catches me in her sights. A smile spreads slowly across her face as she sweeps her eyes up and down me. Sometimes I wonder if the woman isn’t the tiniest bit bisexual. And then, my Ana is back. She runs to me and wraps her arms around me.

“You look hot tonight, girl!”

“Thanks.”

“So, what’s caused this dramatic transformation? A man by the name of Will Turner, perhaps?”

I roll my eyes in embarrassment and am glad that the room is dark and littered with pulsing strobe lights. “Is that your boyfriend?” I ask, desperately trying to change the subject. It was then that I noticed his eyes upon me. They were dark and sharp and strangely familiar. I felt instantly attracted to him and his clever, sharp face. There was something calculating going on behind those eyes. It both thrilled and disgusted me. What an intriguing man! Ana knows how to pick them.

“Yeah!” she says excitedly. “Who cares, though? Where’s Will?”

“No idea,” I reply, making a beeline for the bar. I order a double vodka and cran. First the dreams involving the mysterious Will Turner and now the man with the dark eyes that seem to be undressing me. I chugged down the drink and ordered another. Ana’s eyebrows shot up.

“Everything okay, Liz?” her voice was actually concerned, and if Ana was concerned that usually meant there was something to be concerned about. I didn’t want her to know.

“Yeah, it’s just been a weird day.”

“He’ll show up, you know.”

I nod although I don’t really agree. He’d be crazy if he did, he didn’t know any of us. “Let’s just meet your man, shall we?”

Ana smiled at me and leads me onward. We pause in front of the man and I drank in his appearance. He clearly has money; I could judge by his tailored clothing and the large ring on his finger. It’s white gold, maybe platinum, with a bright green stone. For some reason, it seems very familiar. His face spreads into an easy, sexy smile and I find myself melting uneasily. Everything about him is simply too easy. The vodka had just started to kick in as Ana starts to introduce us.

“Jack, this is Liz. Liz, Jack Sparrow.”

I held out my hand to shake his but he catches it easily and lifts it to his lips. “A pleasure,” he says smoothly.

“Likewise,” I mutter, glaring at him, unable to tear my eyes away from his. Apparently Ana hadn’t noticed anything strange about this exchange because she squeals abruptly and abandons us for a group of people on the other side of the bar. Jack shrugs and twists his chair around, lazily sipping, ironically, Jack and coke. Since I was at a bit of a loss for what to do next, I sit beside him and nurse my drink. I’m really feeling the effects of the first drink at this point.

“So, what’s your story, love?” Jack asks, looking at me with a half smile.

“My story?” I ask, smiling despite myself. “Oh, it’s a long one.”

“I’ve got time.”

“And, I’ve got no patience.”

“You always drink that much at once?”

“No.”

“So?”

“A lot of weird stuff has been happening today. For example, I met a man I’ve seen in my dreams. And you seem very familiar.”

Jack wiggles his eyebrows once. “Perhaps we’ve shared a night together.”

“Not. Likely.”

Jack chuckles and plays with the ice in his drink. I sigh and then, without warning, it all came out.

“I just...I don’t know what I’m doing with my life. I’m all over the place. And, my dreams. And this place. It’s all...a mess.”

Jack didn’t even bat an eye at my outburst. He simply looked at me, leaned in close and spoke slowly and loudly. “Another drink for the lady.”

A smile breaks out across my face and I laugh genuinely.

“On second thought,” he says, turning to the bartender, “Just give me a bottle of rum. That should do us.”

I make a face. “Rum? It’s such a vile drink.”

“Listen to her!” Jack exclaims. “Hoity toity! Go to an all-girls boarding school? Only drank vodka from shampoo bottles, did you?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “As a matter of fact...”

Jack shook his head at me. “Just for that, no mixing allowed.”

“What?” I ask, my eyes growing wide in disbelief. “Oh, I’ll vomit!”

“If you know what’s good for you, you will!”

And, so, we started doing shots...of rum. It was horrible, burning hell. I don’t know how long we sat there like that. It could have been only a few minutes, it could have been an hour. Either way, we were both slurring our words and laughing hysterically.

“So, I says to him,” Jack says, slurring to the point of unintelligibility, “How do you think I got back? Sea turtles?”

I was laughing so hard and that’s when it happened. “Jack, you’re such a good guy to listen to me. You don’t even know me! And, I’m such a mess.”

“ Elizabeth,” he mumbles, his words suddenly clear as he gripps my hands in my lap. “You are a stunning young woman, not a mess. Not to mention, you could out-drink half,” he pauses to glance around the room, “most of the room.”

I giggle. I feel elated, strange, dangerously drunk. I lean in close, my nose almost touching his. “Jack.”

I don’t know what I was going to say originally, but this was not it. “I find you incredibly attractive,” I slur as my eyes skimmed down to his mouth, “I think I might want to kiss you.”

Before he had a chance to say anything in return I all but fell onto his mouth. The real problem lies in the fact that one does not often ‘fall’ into kisses, open mouth, tongue tangling kisses, with one’s best friend’s new boyfriend. Not to mention, I don’t fall into kisses with anyone. What one earth had gotten into me? It’s wrong, so wrong and yet it feels right, so right. It isn’t as though Jack was raring to stop me either. His tongue is exploring my mouth with hot, lazy flicks and I really can’t get enough. Then, as though my entire life was suddenly on cue, I pulled back rapidly and stared at him horrified. He is not horrified at all, he actually looks quite pleased and maddeningly sober.

“Oh God,” I whisper, glancing over his shoulder at Ana. She is still on the other side of the room, watching the scene with detachment. Would she ever speak to me again? I feel like my whole world was crashing down around me all at once. What the hell had I just done? I spin from my chair, stumbling as my shoe twisted sideways beneath me. Jack reaches out to catch me, but I wrench my arm away, staring at him in horror. I turn to make for the bathroom when I catch sight of a familiar face at the door of the club. He looks a little confused, a little lost, and a tiny bit...stricken?

“Will,” I whispered.

The hot burn of rum is rising to my throat and I run straight into the bathroom and into the first stall. Everything that had happened today had just come to a head in the most ridiculous display of my life. I have never behaved so out of character ever before. Now, as though it had been the rum all along, I wretch it up. The beauty of throwing up in a public washroom is that no one notices when you’re crying, too.