Summary: Modern Will/Elizabeth and definitely AU. Will and Elizabeth are lovers in London and this is the story of their lives. Plots will filter in and out of the story. It's mostly for destroying my writer's block.
Note: This story is dedicated to Mz-Turner. She is my soul sister and whenever I have writer's block, she gets the juices running. Thanks soul sister!!
Disclaimer: William Turner and Elizabeth Swann do not belong to me. Although, if you are Disney and want to reach me to negotiate...email me. I'm up for whatever you have to offer. Keira Knightley...if you want to give me a call, maybe we can shop, grab a coffee, cuss out Lindsay Lohan, what have you.
New A/N: I'm extending the cussing out to the entire Lohan family. Thank you.
"I am so proud of you, Elizabeth." Weatherby Swann leaned forward to kiss his daughter's soft cheek, holding his breath to keep the tears swimming in his cool, blue eyes at bay.
"Thank you, Daddy," she breathed, hugging him to her tightly, before they both pulled away. With one last endearing smile, they turned to the door that led into the glass conservatory filled with beautiful plants of all colors and species. They took one step into the room and turned, letting each and every guest feast their eyes on the breathtaking beauty of the bride.
Elizabeth bit her bottom lip, intent on not meeting the eyes of any of her guests, whether it was on her side or Will's. (Even though the larger portion of her guests spilled over in great numbers onto Will's side of the aisle.)
Halfway down the aisle, hearing each guest gasp as she swept slowly passed them on the arm of her tall, straight-backed father, she raised her eyes from the red carpet beneath her dainty, graceful feet and looked at the priest, then diverted her eyes to the right.
She almost stopped dead.
Will wasn't there. He was nowhere to be seen. Where was Will?
What is going on? Her mind raced. Did he get cold feet? No, it wasn't possible. They would not have had her walk out if Will wasn't there. But where was he? She looked around, her worried gaze meeting the smiling faces of her old friends, her family members, twice removed, thrice removed. She looked to her sister, her maid of honor, and saw only pride. There was no confusion.
The groom was always there waiting for the bride to come down the aisle. They were supposed to meet eyes and smile at each other. And not stop smiling for months afterwards.
Where in the hell was he?
Her father stopped her in front of the priest, seemingly ignoring her confusion and furrowed brow. "Daddy, where's Will?" He just winked and kissed her forehead.
She stood, one eyebrow raised, her signature pout, with one small difference, her hands shook uncontrollably.
Elizabeth turned to her sister. "Laura, where's my fiancé?"
Her sister giggled slightly. "Don't you worry, sis. He's here."
There was a low Spanish sounding strum of a guitar. Elizabeth spun, trying to find the source. "What the hell?" Laura placed a hand on her arm and shushed her, forcibly turning her back. Another soft Spanish acoustic strum was heard and she looked up. There was nothing she could possibly see up in the trees and vines above her, hanging from the glass ceiling of the conservatory.
She turned again. "Laura, if you don't fucking tell me where William is, I'll—"
"Patience is a virtue. Just hold on."
"WHAT?! I'll not hold on! He's supposed to be standing here waiting for me!"
The clicking of flamenco shells was heard before another Spanish strum of the guitar. She still couldn't find the damn source of all of this weirdness as she spun around, trying to find anyone holding flamenco shells or an acoustic guitar. And who the hell just yelled "alas"? It sounded a hell of a lot like—
"Aha!" She heard the sound of a creak, rather like the sound you hear when an overly robust person stood from an old wooden chair. Then there was a swishing noise. She looked up, hearing the sound of something flying through the hair. A man clad in a black long-sleeved shirt, black riding pants, and tall black boots flew through the air at her. A black hat sat atop his dark curls, a black mask covering the upper half of his face. He clung to a thick green vine, swinging down toward her rather like Tarzan.
She screamed, clamoring backward as he gracefully landed in front of her. His black cape swished about him and he grabbed at it midair, pulling it up to his face, reminding her of a creepy Dracula film, only his masked dark brown eyes visible beneath the wide-brimmed hat.
As he pulled away the cape with an overly dramatic swish, he revealed a rose which miraculously appeared between his teeth. The moment the cape moved from the lower half of his face, she knew who he was.
"Will! Are you bloody insane?!" She murmured between clenched teeth. Oh, she was going to beat him senseless.
A sexy smirk graced his dark features. He bowed his head respectfully and got on one knee. Taking the rose from his teeth with his strong, graceful fingers, he presented it to his love, meeting her eyes.
"You, mi amore, es sexy!" He said in a Spanish accent, sounding an awful lot like Antonio Banderas. He would have almost fooled her if his Spanish didn't suck so badly.
"Get up! I have a bone to pick with you. Where is your suit?"
"Suit, mi amore? Qué? What suit?"
"Don't you mi amore me. I'm not marrying you while you're in this stupid Zorro costume." She pulled at the cape. "Really, Will? Is this some kind of joke for you?"
She turned, expecting to see everyone else confused by Will's weird-ass behavior. Dressing up as Zorro to his wedding and dropping in like fucking Tarzan was not acceptable!
But everyone was looking at her in confusion. "No joke, mi amore! I am the real thing. I am…Zorro!" He swept the cape across his eyes dramatically again.
"You're William fucking Turner. Stop being an arse and drop the complex. We're getting married, so you had better have your tuxedo underneath that stupid outfit." She pulled at the shirt. Upon moving the fabric aside, she found he had nothing beneath it. Her shaking hands touched his bare abs.
He stepped up to her, his dark brown eyes blazing beneath the mask.
"William, what is wrong with you?" She breathed.
"My name is not William Turner. It is Zorro." His voice was low in his throat, giving her shivers. She had to admit, the thought of William in a Zorro costume was incredibly sexy, but not for their wedding.
His lips moved centimeters away from hers. "Mi amore…" He breathed, his warm breath against her cheek. As she felt the softness of his lips against hers, there was a loud popping noise.
Elizabeth sat up in bed, breathing erratically, her eyes wide as saucers and her heart thumping against her ribcage. "Jesus!" She breathed loudly, holding her right hand to her forehead, the other set against the mattress to keep her up.
She felt movement beside her and peered down. Her lover lay to her left, shirtless, the sheets pooling at his hips, revealing the angular hip bones she loved to run her fingers along when she felt like titillating him.
Remembering him in the Zorro costume on their wedding day, his suave Spanish mystery persona in the dream began to send ire into her bosom. Despite knowing it was just a whacked out dream, she felt the sudden urge to swat him.
He fidgeted again in his sleep, letting a small snort invade the silence of the room. The soft sound shocked him from his slumber and he eased his head up off the pillow, a tired, almost childish look on his handsome features. Propping open one eye, he looked to his right, seeing his bride (in one week's time) sitting up in bed, her pouted lips and narrowed eyes directed at him.
"Elizabeth…what's wrong?" Opening his other eye, he shook his head and sat up beside her, alert enough now that worry was awakening within his chest.
"Nothing, I just had a dream. It wasn't anything too extraordinary," she lied, shaking her head. Her anger at him disappeared as she softened her gaze at him. Leaning towards him, she kissed his chin softly. "I'm sorry I woke you. Go back to sleep, love."
But he shook his head. His hand reached out and his long, calloused fingers latched onto the cream colored silk camisole top that adorned her upper half, pulling her closer. He lay back down and burrowed his face into her stomach, his arms rounding her waist and holding her to him.
"Will, what are you doing?" She giggled, setting her hand to his unruly locks and brushing them back with her fingers adoringly.
"Mmm," he mumbled against her in response.
Pulling from his grasp, she slid down beside him, pushing her hand beneath the thin sheet that covered his lower half. She felt the waistband of his boxers against her fingers. His strong arms rounded her again and she felt his rough digits once again touch the skin of her lower stomach, pushing the camisole up her torso.
Elizabeth breathed his name as her eyelids fluttered. She felt him tuck his face into her neck and grin against the skin there. Just moments ago, she had wanted to smack him for being so stupid in her dream.
Will gasped as he felt her pointer finger dip beneath the waistband of his boxers and find the beginning of his hip bone, starting just above his most sensitive area. It grazed his skin there, causing him to tense suddenly, the muscles in his back convulsing. Then he felt her finger stroke lazily along the bone, following it almost as if her finger was a feather.
His lips moved up her neck and to her jaw line as she stroked his body with her now capable hands. She heard him beg for a higher power in a whisper as her fingers dipped into the pronounced separation between his abdomen muscles.
He grunted as she shoved him onto his back, straddling his hips. The soft sheet of her bed dropped from her back and slid slowly, languidly behind her to rest upon his thighs. She smirked down at him, her hips pushing down into his as he gasped again, his hands latching onto her waist as she shut her eyes, enjoying the sensations. She moved so that she lay atop him and kissed him solidly.
All previous thoughts flew from her mind, and suddenly a thought struck her almost as if a small child inserted it into his slingshot and aimed straight between her eyes. In only a week, she would become Elizabeth Turner, William Turner's missus.
She pulled her lips from Will's and opened her eyes to look into his face. His eyes opened lazily and she once again saw the drowsiness in them. His eyes were almost black in his desire for her, but she caught him hold back an urge to yawn, watching as his nostrils flared and feeling his chest rise.
Feeling the tiredness of the day in her joints as well, she leaned down to kiss his cheek and began to move from on top of him, figuring sleep would do them both well and knowing that neither would receive ample enough sleep for tomorrow's activities if she were to sleep atop him.
But she was stopped in her progress when he reached up to gently still her, his hand on her arm. "Where are you off to?" His soft voice asked, causing her to look at him with an amused smile. She reached up to brush her hair back from her face and tuck it behind her ear.
"Well, I'm tired, Will. And you look absolutely exhausted. So, I'm going to sleep."
A slightly shy smile graced his scrumptious lips, causing her to tilt her head in question. Why did her fiancé suddenly seem a bit shy? When was the last time this had happened?
"Do you have to sleep all the way over there?" He gestured with a slight throw of his head to where she had woken up post-dream.
"Where do you propose I sleep, William?"
Will grinned and rounded her hips with his right arm, pulling her down to lay half of her body on top of him, the other half against the mattress directly beside him. Of her own volition, she rounded his slim waist with her own arm and snuggled her nose into his neck, smiling softly. "Better?" She asked him.
"Almost," he breathed, reaching down to grab the sheets and pull them up over their bodies. He felt her push her long, smooth bare legs in between his, twining them even closer together.
He kissed her head and shut his eyes, feeling more excitement than he had in awhile about the next night's proceedings at the Black Pearl.
He couldn't wait to show Elizabeth his costume!
"And guess what 'e fished out o' the ocean?!"
His guests shook their heads, grins on their faces, waiting for the punch line that had been built up for the past minute or so.
"The rice cake!"
The laughter started up, leaving "Captain" Jack Sparrow with his arms crossed smugly, a wide grin on his wily face. A man dressed in a Prince Charming outfit slapped the younger Sparrow on the back, leaning over to continue his chuckles.
"Anyways, lads an' lasses, I 'ave drinks to refill! If yeh 'aven't 'ad yer fill yet, find me. I'll be wanderin' about!" He grinned one last time at them and turned, walking through the throngs of costumed party guests to go to his bar, where his wife stood shaking her head at him.
"Yeh jus' stole Will's joke!"
"Borrowed!" Jack corrected. "I borrowed his joke!"
Rolling her eyes, she withheld the urge to slap him and handed him a tray with assorted drinks. "Show these drinks around, husband. And try not to steal anythin' else, will yeh?"
"Aye, but only 'cause yeh look lovely in tha' sexy witch costume."
As she let out a grunt of annoyance and turned to make more drinks, her husband backed away from her, bobbing, the tray still in his hands, singing "I put a spell on you…and now you're mine!"
When he turned, he saw a tall, dark figure in the corner, a wide brimmed black hat covering his features. When the head lifted, he saw his best friend grinning at him. "Will, it's abou' time yeh showed yer stupid idjit face at yer own party!"
Will laughed. "What do you think?"
"I dunno what to think 'cept yer a loser, Will."
"Oh come on, Jack! You are the lamest person on earth! Who gave you the idea for that?!" Will laughed, pointing at his older friend.
"Shut up! I did! I thought it was funny!"
Will shook his head, taking in his appearance. Jack wore his regular dark jeans, Madden dark brown shoes, and a plain white t-shirt. Written in large bold, black pen on the front of the shirt, he scribbled "Nudist on Strike".
The young groom took his hat off and itched the top of his head, before setting it back on. "So where's Ana?"
"At the bar, mixin' these drinks…" Jack looked behind me. "Which reminds me, serve these to th'people. I 'ave to pee." Shoving the tray of drinks in Will's hand, he hurried away to the bathroom.
Will looked around. Elizabeth had told him she wanted to arrive separately to their wedding costume party Jack was throwing for them. She wanted to surprise him with her costume. It was just as well, for Will had wanted her to be surprised by his similarly.
He glanced around for her, but found all of the bodies in costumes made it more difficult to pick her out from the rest of the women. As others who didn't recognize him in his disguise picked drinks off of his tray, paying him no mind (not that he cared, even though this was in celebration of his soon-to-be marriage), he peered about, not seeing her anywhere.
Once the tray was empty, he set it on a table beside him haphazardly and continued around the room. He saw pirates, men in afros, cowboys, Indians, 1920s gang members in pinstriped suits and plastic tommy guns, and many other costumes, but not once did he identify one of them as his Elizabeth.
He let out a huff and leant back against the barstool he had ended up at. When he looked up, he saw Anamaria grinning at him. "Well, well, Mister. Don't you look tall, dark and mysterious tonight."
"How did you know?!"
"I've known you for almost as long as I've known Jack, and believe you me, Will Turner, that's a long time. I know you with or without a silly costume, no matter how much you try to hide from me." She shook her head, going back to her drink making.
Will turned to look, seeing Elizabeth standing at the bar in her 1960s Go-Go Girl costume, worry written on her features. He turned back quickly, a plan formulating in his mind.
"Have you seen Will at all yet? He's thirty minutes later than he said he would be when I called him this afternoon." The young woman turned back to the crowd, her eyes scanning the room for a man the same height as her lover, knowing the curve of his strong shoulders anywhere. She completely ignored the man four stools over, completely missing the way he held a finger to his lips at the bartender.
"Uh…nope. I 'aven't seen 'im yet, love. I'm sure he's fine. Jus' wait a few more minutes an' I'm sure he'll come. If 'e comes to me firs', I'll make 'im go find yeh."
She turned and walked away, leaving Will to peer after her, an adoring grin appearing beneath his mask.
"Now what are yeh playin' at, William Turner?" Anamaria asked, her hands on her hips.
"Keep makin' th'drinks! Keep makin' th'drinks!" Jack bellowed as he hurried past them, his arms flailing over his head.
Ana growled, and went back to the drinks, forgetting she had ever asked Will the question. His eyes followed his fiancée, and soon he stood, his black booted feet carrying him after her.
He took in her appearance from afar, feeling slightly creepy peering at her like this. But, she was his love, and he was the only man allowed, in his opinion, to stare at her like this.
Elizabeth wore a dark headband pushed to the middle of her head, a puff of her honey hair coming up from behind it and falling into a few curls midway down her back. A clinging dress fit snugly against her skin, almost covering her fists with a flowing flare in a pink, orange and black flowered pattern. Her figure was perfectly represented as the mini-dress hugged her torso and bottom, ending in a playful flare four or five inches above her knees, leaving almost her entire thighs, knees, and the top part of her lower legs completely naked. Tall, white, shining go-go boots tied all the way up to her mid-calf, the heels raising her two inches taller than her usual five foot seven.
A silver dollar belt wound about her waist loosely, matching the silver dollar hoop earrings gracefully dropping from her dainty ears.
She looked dangerously sexy. Dangerous, Will surmised, because he knew how many of the guys would check her out before they knew she was half the reason they had dressed up on this night in the first place.
Easing up behind her as she stood on her tip-toes to try and look over the heads of some guests, presumably looking for her significant other, William Turner set one hand to her hip, the other smoothly sliding into her own hand and squeezing.
Elizabeth gasped loudly, and then smiled as she recognized the gentleness, the softness of the lips against her cheek. "Good evening, fair go-go."
She giggled, relief surging in her bosom. If she were to be entirely honest with herself, she was beginning to worry over him.
But when she turned around, her warm features fell flat, her rose-colored cheeks paled. There, standing before her, was her handsome fiancé, adorned in black, a dark mask covering his eyes beneath the wide brimmed hat.
There was William Jonathan Turner II before her in a Zorro costume.
Her eyelids fluttered and she felt dizziness swoop down on her like an angry bat in an abandoned cave would upon its prey. She barely registered Will's stunned, breathless voice call her name, his arms grabbing securely at her body and holding her up.
Her world went dark, but only for a split second, before she blinked rapidly and took a deep breath, the dizziness still there, but only in small increments.
"God, Elizabeth…are you alright?" His dark brown eyes were slanted in absolute worry, his lips turned down in a frown.
"Yes," she whispered. Clearing her throat, she replied louder, clearer. "Yes."
Will held her in a standing position, checking her over to make sure there were no injuries, despite the fact that he held her tightly and saved her from any harm during the incident.
"Come," he said, peering around to make sure they had not caused a stir. Fortunately, the party was raging so fully that no one seemed to notice the momentary fainting spell of the bride-to-be, not even her father in the corner, dressed as the phantom of the opera.
Wrapping his arm around her, his other hand crossing over her stomach to rest on her opposite hip, he helped her through the throngs of people, grinning at everyone he passed, trying to keep them in the dark about whatever had just happened to his fiancée.
He led her past the unisex bathrooms, through the smallish kitchen area, and out the side door into the alley. Cool air hit them hard as they ventured out to the steps where Will eased his woozy love down to sit carefully. He knelt in front of her, still concerned. Her eyes weren't quite right and her face was still a bit pale.
"Elizabeth, are you alright? What the hell just happened?"
She shook her head. "I don't know." She felt much better outside with the cold air against her bare skin. Despite the uncanny eeriness of her lover's costume choice, especially after the nightmare she had the night before, she felt calmness enter her limbs, leaking to each nook and cranny of her body.
"God, where have you been?" She asked, her voice back, and thankfully, Will thought, her strong, Elizabethan gaze back in her eyes.
"Sorry, it took me a long time to get ready. I didn't expect all of the buttons and the mask…" His voice died down.
"Will, you can't tie a bow at the back of your head, can you?"
He blushed, taking his hat off and turning his head, showing her the poorly tied, crooked, uneven knot. She smiled adoringly at him as he tried to turn back to her. But he found her soft, cool palms against his cheek as she turned him away. "Hold on. Let me fix it."
He grinned at the Calico cat sitting on the dumpster, its tail swishing back and forth. Her fingers latched onto the knot, taking over a minute to untie it. "Jesus, Will! What did you bloody do to this thing?"
"I don't really know."
When she finally unknotted it, she let the mask drop to his shoulders before she plucked the ends pristinely between her thumbs and forefingers. Bringing it back to his head, she tied it into a neat bow before rounding his neck with her arms and leaning forward to kiss his cheek. "Better?"
"Much, thank you. I think it was pulling my hair before."
"Aw…" She breathed.
He turned back to her and moved up one step to sit beside her. The back of his palm grazed against her cheek softly as he leant forward to kiss the tip of her nose. She giggled.
"Are you feeling alright again?" He breathed.
"Yes, now that you're here." She paused. "Finally." She allowed him only a small fidget before she kissed his cheek reassuringly. "But at least you're here." Elizabeth felt a chill shake her body and her teeth chattered slightly. "It's getting a wee bit nippy out here now."
"I'll keep you warm," he replied, grabbing at his cape and rounding her body with it, pulling her tightly against his body, simultaneously warming himself as well. Their noses touched before they moved their lips together, their eyes slipping shut as the kiss intensified.
Neither missed the groan that sounded behind them. "Are you two at it again?"
Their lips broke apart softly, both recognizing the voice belonging to Elizabeth's brother-in-law, James Norrington. He smirked down at them.
"Oh shut up, James. Don't act like I didn't walk in on you and Laura at your wedding party. In entirely different circumstances than Will and I, that's for sure." She met his smirk with one of her own.
"What?!" Will burst out. "You didn't."
"Oh yes I did. What's more, it was in the unlocked library against the bookshelves, where anyone could have walked in, seeing the married-to-be couple—"
"Enough of that now, Lizzie," James scolded. Despite the humor in his tone, his face shone red. Will had to admit, inwardly, that James must have pretty much been a bad ass during his courting days with Laura Swann. He wondered how many times they were able to do that kind of stuff without her father finding out.
It was a little too late for that now. Nevertheless, Will needed his secret. He made a point of it in his mind to ask the older man about it later. In private.
"Come in. You're the reason this whole thing is going on. Get inside and stop making out. Be proper hosts, will you?" He grabbed Will by the scruff of his collar and pulled him up good-naturedly. "C'mon, mate. Let's go. Separate yourself from the woman's charms and get in there."
Elizabeth stood as well, rolling her eyes. "Yes, James sir."
"Anyways, Will…there's talk that the bloke in the Zorro costume is, and I quote, 'sexy'. I assume some of the other ladies present tonight might like some of your attentions."
"Um, 'scuse me," Elizabeth spoke up, her hands on her hips. "I hope these other ladies present understand just what sort of attentions from my future husband they'll be on the receiving end of. Considering he is to be married to me in one week's time."
Will squeezed her hand reassuringly. "No worries, mi amore," he said with a Spanish accent, sending a chill up her spine. She wasn't rightly sure if the chill erupted at the recollection of his accent during her dream, at the sensual level of his voice as his accent was more pronounced, or both.
She kissed his cheek and let him go in.
"Not to mention some of the fellas in there would like a chance to talk to the bride-to-be," James added after Will was well out of earshot.
"Alright, alright. Show me inside, will you Commodore?"
James bowed in his 17th century British naval outfit, the wig drooping slightly into his handsome face.
"I hate this damnable wig."
"Will you quit tugging?"
Jack backed away, his hands held up in defense. He had been pulling at the tails hanging from the back of Will's coat, trying in vain to get the small wrinkle from it. It had been bugging him for the last ten minutes he had been standing behind Will.
"Calm down, mate."
"I am calm," Will whispered to his friend over the light murmur of wedding guests seated in the beautiful white wicker chairs set up in straight rows of ten, an aisle down the center marked with a red carpet.
"Your eyes deny wot the mouth says," Jack said, setting a friendly hand on his best mate's shoulder. "Listen, just take a deep breath. In a few minutes, Lizzie will march down that aisle with her dad, you'll exchange stuff, you'll kiss, and BAM! It's done."
"You say it like it's simple. Jack, this is huge." Will looked behind him at the ordained minister, then back at his friend. Taking Jack by the arm, he led him a few feet away from the earshot of any others nearby. "I'm getting married, Jack. This is it. For the rest of my life, it's Elizabeth. And only Elizabeth."
"What do you mean, lad? Are you worried you don' want tha'?"
Will glared openly. "Of course not. I've known I would spend the rest of my life with Elizabeth for years now!"
"Then wot th'devil are you on about, man?" Jack whispered back with a glare of his own.
"I just…I'm breathing free air right now, getting as much out of this moment as I possibly can. Because I'll never be an unmarried man again." A smile snuck onto his features as Jack laughed.
"Hm…neither will I. Funny how peaceful it sounds coming from you…" Jack sighed, a teasing glint in his eye.
Will shook his head as his best man pushed him good-naturedly back to his spot. Peering above him, Will forced to squint, as the sunlight of the afternoon snuck through the tangled vines and leaves. He smiled, watching as a leaf broke silently from its branch, the small green piece of life floating gracefully down towards him.
His dark eyes followed its swooping fall.
So focused he was on said leaf, he didn't even notice when everyone in the congregation straightened, when everyone hurried to their prospective areas, the guests turning in their seats at the glass door in the back with a maroon door of flower petals hung from strings like beads.
The leaf was just a few feet above his face when it was swooped away suddenly by a strong gust of air, disappearing from his sight.
Blinking, Will looked down and over to the door where his fiancée was supposed to appear. Laura, Anamaria and Rebecca walked down the aisle, large grins on their faces as they moved, lovely bouquets of four red roses in their hands.
Little Hannah Copeland, one of Elizabeth's children at the orphanage (and truthfully one of Lizzie's favorites) tip toed her small little five year old form down the red carpeted aisle, her small shiny white shoes without scuffs, the little buckle glinting as she lifted her feet. Her pudgy hands dropped clumps of rose petals along the carpet as she walked, a huge beaming smile on her adorable face, the ringlets around her cheeks bouncing.
At the end of the aisle, Hannah looked up at a winking Will Turner and smiled, resisting the urge to hug him. But the smile died when she looked down and saw her small white basket still half full with rose petals.
Turning, she saw everyone staring behind them, away from her, waiting for the appearance of the bride. Her eyes darted back and forth, making sure no one was watching.
She flipped her basket over and emptied the rest of the petals, scattering them near Will's feet with her small shoes, then darted away, sitting in the seat in the front row allotted for her. Smiling widely, she was proud of her decision, and she turned to wait for the bride with the rest of congregation.
Gripping her father's sleeve, Elizabeth met his eyes and laughed. "Ready, Father?"
He sighed, dusted off his shoulders with a chuckle, raised his chin, and straightened his back. "To represent the best looking family in all of England? I had better be."
She laughed as the two men nodded, pulling aside the rose petals hanging from the doorway, leaving enough room for Weatherby Swann and his bride-to-be daughter to walk through.
Will grinned from the end of the aisle, not exactly surprised that Elizabeth Swann looked like a vision from the heavens above. Her dress gave her a classical appeal, like a princess, but left her shoulders bare, making Will grin even wider as he thought of Elizabeth choosing the dress mostly for this purpose.
God, she was wild.
Her father couldn't possibly even begin to understand. No one could.
But Jesus, Will Turner could.
With half of her hair piled on top of her head, Elizabeth felt a bit light-headed, but then again, she wasn't sure if it was just that, or if it might have something to do with the fact that the man she was about to marry looked like sex.
As she peered about her, she saw shining faces looking up at her. Old friends, new friends, family. Mr. and Mrs. Roberts sat towards the front, the Missus with tears in her eyes.
She then directed her gaze to her feet. Thank God, the rose petal color she chose for Hannah to throw matched the carpet. She was so worried about that. But Hannah did well. Good little girl, Hannah was.
But as she neared the end of the aisle, she saw a large pile of the petals, strewn a little off to the side. Raising an eyebrow, she pursed her lips. What the hell?
But her father tugged at her arm and she turned, seeing him lean in to kiss her cheek. She beamed at him and squeezed his hands, turning back to where Will stood, joining him in front of the altar, the place where she had seen herself before in her dreams, both as a child and an adult.
Looking up to Will, she saw him widen his eyes at her meaningfully, causing her to smile amusedly. Pouting her lips, she leaned slightly to her right and peered over Will's shoulder, seeing Jack serious-faced, winking at her. And behind him was her brother-in-law, just smiling.
Content that things were going to plan, Elizabeth toned out the father as he spoke.
Yes, she agreed with the father. They were an excellent looking couple, she and Will. And bound together by a love so strong, it could withstand a lifetime of trials and tribulations. It already had the last three, what was another eighty years?
Before he knew it, the father and Elizabeth, as well as the rest of the hundred and twenty people or so, were all staring at him. "I do," he said in his most resolute tone.
Oh hell yes, he did.
And soon the father was speaking to Elizabeth, whose eyes sparkled in the natural light the streamed in from the large glass walls. The glass conservatory was on the twelfth level of the large building, surrounded by a beautiful view of London on every side.
"I do," he heard her soft voice for the first time in over twenty four hours, and he shivered slightly. This time her voice meant so much more than it had in the past, when she would whisper in his ear, or tell him her secrets that she kept from everyone else. This time, she was sealing the deal.
Signing on the dotted line.
Selling her soul.
Minus selling her soul.
"If there is anyone who believes this matrimony should not take place, let him speak now or forever hold his peace." The father waited for no longer than five seconds, before continuing.
"Then…by the power invested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife."
The father winked at the groom. "Kiss the bride."
Much obliged, Will thought to himself. His hand wound around Elizabeth's long neck, his thumb stroking her jaw line, as he leant down and set his lips softly against hers. When they pulled their lips apart, their eyes met.
Elizabeth Swann, do not cry! This isn't a funeral! Clenching her eyes shut tightly, she focused on the cheers from the guests. When she opened them again, the urge to cry was gone, and she found herself swept into her sister's arms, feelings her new husband's fingers slip from hers.
After a few more hugs from the bridesmaids, Elizabeth felt Will grab her hand and pull her down the aisle. She watched his back, not even sparing any glances at the people offering congratulations beside her.
But the second they hit the elevator, Will repeatedly slammed the "Close Door" button until they slid shut. The groom stood facing the doors, sighing lightly. Small fingers slid around his waist before arms surrounding him and he felt his Elizabeth's cheek against his shoulder.
"Will…" She whispered into his ear.
But any further speech was halted as he spun around and grabbed her in his arms, kissing her lips languidly.
Elizabeth grinned. This was the kiss she had wanted when they were pronounced husband and wife. When he just grabbed her face in his strong hands and let her lips have it.
There was a small noise and the doors slid open. Silence.
Then Will pulled away, his lips still pursed, his eyes darting to the open doors, where almost every single guest stared at them with wide grins and mirth-filled eyes from just outside the elevator.
Jack headed them, his arms crossed. "Erm…yeh fergo' to press which floor yeh wanted, lovelies. Bit preoccupied there, Willie boy?"
A few of the guests couldn't hold it in any longer and they started to laugh. Soon a larger number of guests laughed.
Even Elizabeth began to giggle, her hand pressed to her lips as she watched Will, who glowered at his friend with a 'not impressed, Jack' look on his face. It was one of those looks Jack would never forget, for he got it constantly.
The doors slid shut again of their own volition and Elizabeth reached out a dainty finger to press 3, the reception room for their wedding where Marlena already waited. Elizabeth and Will would have a changing room, should they need it, but they would stay until the rest of the party traveled down, which might have to take a long time, considering their number.
Elizabeth let out her laughter, loud and clear as they dropped to level 3, causing Will to shake his head and let out his own more subtle chuckle. "You could've pressed it too, you know."
"I think we were both a little preoccupied, William."
Will looked at her with a small smile, sized her up in her breathtaking gown, and stepped forward to kiss her again. Their lips dueled as they got lower and lower in the elevator, until finally they felt it halt to a stop.
Elizabeth pushed Will away gently and straightened herself. With a coy glance at her lover, she waited for the sharp Ding of the elevator and took his hand. As the doors slid open, Marlena turned and squealed.
She hugged them both tightly, giving them her best of wishes and congratulations before pulling them along to the room in which they would stay for a good half hour before they could be presented to the reception guests as Mr. and Mrs. William and Elizabeth Turner.
The doors burst open, leaving guests pouring out, some inebriated already, at six o'clock in the evening, and some just plain drunk. Mostly, though, people were just happy.
Will and Elizabeth came out arm in arm into the London weather, their arms around each other's waists. Neither had too much to drink, but they had both danced their feet off, and laughed their heads off.
Elizabeth kissed her father on the cheek, hugging him tightly as he whispered his pride in her ear. She giggled, pushing back the tears that threatened to spill.
As kisses and warm hugs were exchanged, everyone screaming their sentiments over the roar, throwing rice, despite the fact that the wedding had been over for hours now, Will kept gazing back at his wife, beaming brightly. There was no other word to describe him now but…happy.
She met his gaze and nodded. It was time.
Hurrying over to him, she kissed his lips, a sign she meant for him to understand as she was forever and always his. It would be to his side she would return every night and vise versa, for the rest of eternity.
James was at the limousine door to open it for the exultant couple, winking at Will, who winked back. The younger man helped Elizabeth into the car, making sure to assist her with the dress that still adorned her beautiful figure. He was about to join her inside, when he turned and looked around, his brow furrowing.
Where the hell was his best man, Jack Sparrow? In fact, he wondered where many of their friends were. Shaking his head, he pushed it from his mind, knowing that in just a small amount of time, he would be in a grand hotel room with the most beautiful woman in the world (his wife, no less) and they would have an entire day and a half before they had to worry about getting on any planes to go to their actual honeymoon.
He had no more time to think, though, when his brother-in-law grabbed him, pulling him into a hug. Will laughed and kissed the older man on his cheek, leaving the slightly dumbfounded man with a friendly slap on the cheek where his lips just were. "See you soon, brother."
The newlywed groom plopped down beside his wife, watched the door closed, and dove at his wife, causing her to squeal and laugh loudly as he attacked her bare shoulders with his lips. "Will, stop it!" She gasped, throwing her head back as he pushed her against the seat.
They struggled against one another, both laughing.
When they calmed down a few moments later, Will had his head resting on Elizabeth's shoulder, his lips pressed against her neck. He breathed deeply, smelling the sweet aroma of his wife's perfume. Roses.
Jesus, even her perfume matched the décor. She was on top of things. He wove his hands around her waist and just rested against her, shutting his eyes in comfort. "I am so tired," he breathed.
She murmured lightly, her fingers grazing his smoothly shaven face. Elizabeth placed her lips against his temple and smiled. "I am so happy."
He moved his head and peered up at her with a small smile. Without another word, their lips met, their fingers twining with each other's necks and moving closer.
They pulled away when they heard the strange whirring of the little window in between them and the driver go down. What do you need right now of all times? Will moved his eyes away from his bride and looked at the man with the posh hat on his head.
"Yeh ready fer a real reception?"
He cackled, pushing the button so that the darkened window started going up again. "Oh no you don't!" Will growled as he dove forward, sticking his arm through and grabbing Jack's collar.
"Ey, no! I'm drivin', Will! GEH!" One hand gripped at the steering wheel while the other pounded repeatedly on the up button, consequently trapping Will's arm between the window and the ceiling. The young man yelped, his fingers still clinging at Jack's collar.
Jack reached up, smacked Will's hand a few times and continued driving, pushing the button again to lower it, so that Will's arm could escape its prison. The moment the groom pulled his arm out, he hit the window with his palm, hearing Jack's laughter behind it once it slid to a close. "What the hell are you doing?" He barked to his friend, knowing he could hear him.
"Will, what the fuck?!" Elizabeth asked. "Why is Jack driving our limo?"
"I don't know, but we're definitely not going to our hotel. We're going in the complete opposite direction, the wanker!" He slumped down and looked up at her.
"You know, Will, I love Jack dearly, but sometimes I hate him."
"So do I."
There was a strange sound from beside where Will was sitting made both of them jump. It was a speaker.
"Hey Will," came Jack's warbled voice.
Furrowing his brow, Will reached down and grabbed the small receiver, bringing it to his lips. "Jack, what the hell are you doing driving our limo? And why aren't we going to our hotel?"
"I'm taking you to a real party. With better booze."
"Excuse me!" Elizabeth laughed, lifting an eyebrow.
"Not to say your planning wasn't impeccable, Lizzie darling. All I'm saying is there are no kiddies a' this party, thus…we've nixed all kiddy drinks." Will could almost see him smirking.
"Jack, take us to our hotel."
"Yes! Elizabeth and I want to go to our hotel."
There was a pause. "I don't hear Lizzie sayin' she wants ter go to th'hotel."
"I want to go to the hotel, Jack," Elizabeth said, crossing her arms with a smug smirk at her husband. She carefully eased down to the floor of the limousine at her husband's feet, taking the receiver from his hands and leaning on his lap. "I really, really, really want to go to the hotel, Jack."
She set the receiver back in its place and Will pulled her up to him, kissing her lips sensually, as she maneuvered to sit on his lap, not that she could feel much through the throngs of fabric.
The window between them went down again.
"Oi! What're you two doin' in there! Stop it! Now, we've got a party ter go to! An' I'm not takin' no fer an answer!"
"No!" They chorused.
"Yer obviously not listenin' ter me." The window went back up again, leaving the couple to roll their eyes and just prepare for what was to come.
Will leant forward. "At least if Jack gets hammered as quickly as I know he will, we can bounce directly after. He won't notice."
"Oh. That's a good point."
"May I present…Mister and Missus William and Elizabeth Turner!"
There was a huge cheer, as corks from champagne bottles flew up against the ceiling. Damien, the owner of the chosen flat (only because of its colossal size) yelped as he saw at least three new dents on his newly painted white ceiling.
His wife seemed unmoved by the new development to their home, as she had already started on the martinis.
Will grinned widely as he saw some of his best mates had beat him to the after-party. They all crowded around him, ruffling his trimmed curly hair, nudging his shoulder, and pulling at his jacket.
He turned, seeing his wife smiling as well. It seemed Jack had found some of her friends also, and they had rushed to make it to Damien's flat before the newlyweds.
Will pulled Jack over and hugged him, causing the older man to squirm uncomfortably. When they separated, Will patted his friend on the shoulder. "Thanks, Jack."
"Ah, 'twas nothin'."
But soon thereafter, he felt a smack on his arm. Jumping to the side, Jack looked at the offender, finding a pissed off Elizabeth Turner nee Swann with a fist raised, ready to strike again.
"Ow, missy! Wot'd I do?!"
"You kidnapped me from my wedding night, you imbecile!"
Jack held up his hands in defense, ignoring the laughs of the other guests at the party. Yes, he surmised, maybe it was amusing for them to see the beautiful, delicate young woman in her fluffy fineries beating at him with her fists…but were they in his position, they would certainly see things differently. "But I kidnapped both o' ye's! Together!"
"I don't care!" She moved to hit him again, but found her husband skillfully maneuvered himself in between his best mate and his best girl, able to protect Jack but get a stinging smack on his arm in the process. Elizabeth brought her hands to her face, her eyes wide as saucers. "Oh God, Will! I'm sorry!"
Rolling his eyes, Will leant forward and kissed her cheek, guiding her towards her friends. Elizabeth missed the winks thrown over her head as her friends pulled her away.
Will walked back to Jack, who crossed his arms in front of his chest and grinned gratefully to his younger friend. "Thanks, mate. I really appreciate it."
"You're lucky I know you can't take a punch. Otherwise, I absolutely would have let my wife kick your arse."
"What'd I do?" Jack asked, raising his hands along with the octave of his voice.
"Forget it." Will shook his head in amusement and strolled away, going to mingle with his friends, the friends he had scarcely seen the past few months, due to his wedding planning.
Elizabeth found herself in a room full of her friends, including Rebecca. They all hook their fingers into her dress and carefully pulled it off of her.
"What is going on?!" She gasped, covering herself as she stood in her undergarments before all of the other girls in the room.
"You can't expect to party with that huge thing on, Lizzie!" Becca said, laughing as she set down her glass of champagne to help the others with the dress. Elizabeth gazed longingly after her dress as they hung it up and set it in the closet of the bedroom in which they all stood.
"Where's that going? I need my dress! Wha—"
"Trust us, Elizabeth. It will be fine."
The hostess and wife to Damien, Lolita Garnett, was one of Elizabeth's closer friends that she had made through Becca in the past few years. The young woman smiled and handed Elizabeth a nice black dress. "This should fit you. I promise your dress will survive my closet."
With a sigh, the bride slipped the dress on, letting it fall to her knees, and allowing Debbie to lace it up in the back. "Comfy?"
"Yes, thank you."
The girls erupted into the hallway and burst into the party room yelling and wooing.
Jack stood at the sound system, Damien fretting behind him, trying to get him to stop fiddling with it. "One Fine Day" by the Chiffons exploded from the sound system, causing those closest to the speakers to cower away, grimaces on their faces.
Damian smacked the back of Jack's head and turned it down, fixing it so that the surround sound was at the perfect level.
Jack poured the drinks, standing on the couch, dancing to the song.
"One fine day! You're gunna want me for your girl!" The ladies in the corner sang loudly, doing the mashed potato.
Will weaved through the singers, dancers, and drinkers, seeing his wife in the corner with her friends, laughing hysterically, a martini gripped in her small fingers. As the music switched to the Byrds "Turn, Turn, Turn", Will took his wife's wrist and pulled her from her friends, his eyes ablaze.
She smiled lovingly up at him and set her martini down on the nearest surface, wrapping her arms around his neck as they swayed to the calm music that surrounded them.
Eyes shut tightly, Will dropped his forehead to hers, his fingers gripping at his wife's sides. He could never be happier, the love of his life entrenched in his embrace, now officially his until the end of time.
The hours wore on, the drinks were downed, the music became louder. The room seemed to be drunk in happiness and joy. "Damian! Turn on the Stones!"
The stumbling host held up his drink across the room and found his iPod amongst the discarded drinks around the sound system he spent so much of his earnings on. Soon "Judy is a Punk" by the Ramones blasted.
It wasn't the Stones, but it seemed no one took notice.
The masses jumped to the punk beat, singing at the top of their lungs, their martinis and champagne spilling from their glasses as they all threw their arms up.
Will and Elizabeth were pressed up against one another, jumping up and down, their hands gripping one another to keep steady.
Honestly, Will had lost count of how many drinks he had put in his system, but at the moment, he didn't give a rat's arse, because this was the most fun he could remember having in a long while.
As a twenty four year old professional, preparing a life for himself and the woman he would call his wife, he rarely had the time or need to get roaring drunk with his footballer mates.
This was a treat he had not expected on his wedding night, of all nights.
But he would take it.
Elizabeth had made him promise to no more than an hour amongst their friends. And then they could taxi, she could grab her dress, and they would be off to their hotel room.
But they both lost track of time as more drinks came their way, as they spent more time with their friends.
Elizabeth felt as she did when she was in uni, able to romp and drink with her friends, throwing back martinis, beers, shots, and anything else she could take, and she could take a lot. She yelled lyrics to songs at the top of her lungs, had no shame in dancing on the at-home bar.
Jack lounged in the leather chair before the big screen television set, staring awestruck at the blank screen. He bobbed his head at "What Is Life" by George Harrison, his feet bobbing up and down as they hung from the arms of the chair.
A loud pounding sounded at the door.
No one seemed to notice except him. He peered around him, then burped, pushing himself weakly to his feet and flopping forward against the window. He peered down into the darkened street and suddenly sobered as quickly as if freezing water had been dumped over him.
A police cab sat in the street, its occupants missing. "Shit!" He yelled.
"Coppers!" He yelled as he disappeared into the next room over.
The loud pounding continued, causing Will to turn from where he was sloppily refilling Becca's apple martini. "Wot wos tha'?" He slurred, shaking his head to sober up a bit. Becca just giggled, grabbing it from him and continuing the job, spilling on the counter top.
Setting a hand on the door handle, Will pulled it open.
Standing in the doorway were two miffed looking policemen, their yellow jackets pulled over their uniforms and their hats pulled low over their brows. "Can you turn that music down in there, lad?"
"Uh…" He swallowed, his eyes almost popping from their sockets. "…s-sure." He turned. "DAMIEN! TURN IT DOWN A BIT!"
As the music became softer, the occupants in the room none the wiser, Will stepped a bit outside and smiled hazily, his eyes a bit droopy in his inebriated state. "Can I help you officers?"
"Son, we have had more than just a few complaints. Do you know what time it is?"
"Wow, uh…" He turned and pretended to look for a clock. "No idea, officer…sir. What time is it?" Rubbing a hand over his face, he did his best to stand up a bit straighter and not sway as much.
"It is almost midnight. This isn't college, son. This is a respectable building. And it's tenants are getting right fussy. You're going to have to cut the party, lad." The taller of the policemen had a slightly larger gut than Will thought necessary for a police officer. The other was short and muscled. He pretty much looked like a prick.
"It's not even midnight yet, officers. Listen, I jus' got ma—"
"We don't care, kid. All I'm saying is you need to shut it down and go home."
Making a face, Will turned and stepped outside, shutting the door behind him. "Listen, it's goin' to be harder than you think…getting all those people out of this place. I didn't start this thing and I'm not…"
"You're not?" The smaller of the two narrowed his eyes threateningly.
Will didn't appreciate the patronizing tone of the police officer, as if he was a child.
"We'll keep it down. I appreciate you stopping by. Thanks, but I'm going to go back into the party." He began to go back inside, but both officers followed.
"Alright, listen pal. You'll have to break this joint down or we'll have to do it. What'll it be?"
"Do what you want Sir, but I'm going to fix myself another drink." Will turned again and started for the bar, but found the officer had grabbed his wrist, pulling him back.
"Listen lad, I've got a job to do. And if you're going to get fresh, I have no problem taking you into the station. Do you get me? What'll it be?" The taller officer, his mustache twitching, stepped away from the door, ready to help his partner if need be.
Not one of the men noticed when Jack Sparrow snuck out the door behind them, bolting the moment he was out of earshot, escaping the party, and simultaneously leaving behind his best mate and newly married friend.
"Why don't you two go find a robbery to stop...?"
"Alright, that's it. We're going to have to take you down…" The shorter officer took Will's arm and started to pull him over, but the younger man pulled back.
"Hey! S'my suit! I just got married today!" He grinned widely, brushing off his tuxedo.
"Sure, bud. C'mon." The officer grabbed him again and started towards the door.
Will began to follow when Gregory Hammerstein rushed past, his feet crumbling beneath him, banging into Will's drunken body, causing the newlywed to stumble forward into the officer. Both men crashed to the floor. The tall policeman turned, his eyes wide, and helped his friend up.
"That's it! Resisting arrest and intent to assault an officer of the law!" The short man in uniform hollered, turning Will around and moving to pin his front against the wall. He pulled handcuffs from his belt, stunned when the young man pushed back.
"Hey, wait! That was an accident! I'm no' really tha' violent, I swear!"
Both police shoved Will against the wall again, causing him to wince as he hit it violently, his arms strained as they pulled them back to handcuff him. "Ah, ow! Ouch! I swear, I din'…"
"Excuse me!" Came the high pitched scream from their left.
The beautiful Elizabeth Swann came barreling haphazardly toward them, her brow furrowed in confusion and frankly, she just looked pissed.
"What are you doing with him?!" She bellowed. She attempted to walk past the officers to her love, but found them blocking the way.
"Look, lass, we're taking your friend in…"
"Like hell you are!"
The two officers raised their eyebrows at each other, but shrugged the young woman off, turning back to their suspect and grabbing at his shoulders, forcing him out into the hall.
Still screeching for them to let Will go, Elizabeth hurried after them, stumbling slightly on her bare feet, the alcohol still weaning in her system, sitting comfortably in her stomach, pulsing through her veins, and unfortunately…her brain.
They ignored her, finally getting out to their car. The mustached policeman opened the back door and the short man prepared to push the drunken young man into the car, but found his progressed hindered when the young woman pushed herself in between them and the car.
"Wait! What 'as he done?!" By the cloudy gaze she was giving him, the officer had a good idea that she was pretty well gone on the booze as well. He pulled her out of the way and shoved the young man down again.
In his eagerness to get the stupid kid into the station, he forgot to protect his head, causing the boy to hit his head hard on the side of the door. With a groan, the young man flopped into the car, wincing at the throbbing pain in his forehead.
"Let my husband go!" She yelled, trying to go retrieve Will from the car. She stopped suddenly, feeling giddiness shoot through her system. This was the first time she addressed William Turner verbally as her husband. And the thought sent her heart fluttering, despite the fact that said husband was now sitting in the back of a police car, a knot forming on his forehead from the cop shoving him face first into the side of the car door.
By the time she realized they had shut the door and locked it on Will, walking to their perspective sides of the vehicle to take the groom in, it was nearly too late.
"No!" She ran to the tall officer, who was on the passenger side. "No, please! Let him out!" The man shook his head, trying to pull from her grip and get into the seat. "NO!"
She hurried to the back and leant down, banging on the tinted window. "Will!" She felt panic rise in her breast suddenly. Her husband was being arrested on their wedding night. She would be separated from him on their first night as husband and wife. "NO! WILL!"
His face pressed against the tinted window, his brows furrowed in longing as he mouthed a sloppy 'I love you' to her.
"WILL!" She yelled again, banging hard on the glass with her palm. "You can't leave me!" She hit the glass harder, as if it would break if she banged hard enough, thus giving her a way to at least touch him before they kidnapped him from her.
She heard the car door open, the pint-sized copper standing up and growling at her, "Hey, lady! Get your paws off my car!"
She glared. "Then get your paws off my husband!" Her eyes were suddenly clear, the cold air against her face giving her immune system a bit of a boost in sobering her up slightly, at least enough to know exactly what was happening to her beau.
"You wanna go too, lady?!"
"Freddy, we can't!"
"Shut up, Pat! Huh, lady?" He shrugged. "If you really want to, I have no problem throwin' you in there with him!"
Elizabeth stared, pushing down the absolute desire in her bosom to clamor over the car and claw at the puny bastard's face. She glanced down at her husband, who was absolutely confused at the lack of action on everyone's part. Then she looked back up at the officer.
"I don't hear nothin', lady! Do you want to go or not?! I don' have time for this!"
It took a mere moment before Elizabeth was thrown into the back of the police car next to her husband. He opened his mouth to question, but found her in a fury. Hopping over her, he pushed his face out of the door to yell at the officer to let his wife go.
Why the hell was she being arrested?!
But the door was promptly slammed in his face, causing him to recoil quickly, his eyes watering from the pain in his nose.
"Will!" He found himself surrounded by his wife's arms, her unsteady fingers pushing his unruly curls back from his face and kissing him, warming him despite the fact that he was trapped in the back of a police car, with charges of assaulting an officer of the law against him.
Jack Sparrow watched as the police car eased back down the road, disappearing around the corner, before he swallowed audibly, licking his lips.
"Well…shit. Tha's no' good."
(A/N:) Best wedding night...ever.