Muse

Chapter Two:

*No One Knows What Its Like
To Be The Bad Man
To Be The Sad Man
Behind Blue Eyes*


Jack examined the damage. It wasn't that it was bad...could have been worse. But she still insisted on screaming like a banshee in mating season.

"IT HURTS!"

"It will if you get salt water in it! Look at me! My face was in agony for days-"

"-DAYS?!"

"Well no...that was an exagguration...it FELT like days-"

"Oh Lord, I want to die...just kill me now, the pain will go away!"

Norrington got up from Elizabeth's side and went below decks.He was probably after the same thing Jack already decided to get.

"'Ere" He said, shoved a bottle of rum in her face.

She looked at him with wide-eyes. "Do you honestly think i am in ANY fit state to even dream of drinking that vile-putrid smelling-foul-"

Jack sniggered. "It's not for drinkin' Luv, it's for puttin' on your leg."

She was thinking about it. He could see the cogg's turnin' in her head. She popped the cork and the tipped the bottle slightly, allowing a small droplet to drop from the tim of the neck-

"No!" Jack shouted, and then closed his eyes. He'd forgotten to tell her to NEVER pour the liqueur on the wound...

He watched her face contort. In pain or anger he wasn't quite sure. Then suddenly she began screaming again, only this time it sounded like a banshee was giving birth...which was even more painful.

"You're not supposed to pour it...you're supposed to dab it in with a cloth-"

"Which you completely neglected to tell me you...you-you pirate!"

Jack smiled at her. "Not exactly an insult you're givin' me there, Luv"

"Oh do shut up" She breathed, closing her eyes against the sun beating down on her, and the pain that was no throbbing very badly on her knee cap.

She blamed Jack, natraully. If he hadn't of let her go up that bloody mast pole to grease down the ropes in the first place...although he didn't agree to it at first, this was true. But she wanted to prove herself.

But why? What did she need to prove? She was a Governers daughter...

A Governers daughter in league with Pirates.

How ironic.


It was only a graze anyway. But there was alot more blood initially...and she didn't like blood very much...very at all actually.

Something was above her. The sun had been blocked. She opened her eyes and squinted up, to find Jack standing there, looking down at her. He was holding something out to her.

"What's that?" She asked him.

"The make-shift bandage from my hand. Use it to dab the rum with" He let the cloth float down and it landed in her lap. Then he was walking away again with that swagger.

"Thankyou" She shouted after him.

He turned around and nodded, and then was off to the helm.

"Here" Came Norrington's voice, shaking her from her thoughts.

But he noticed someone had already got there first.

"Oh" He said, taking a seat next to her. He looked at the bottle of rum in his hands. "Oh well, waste not, want not" he stated, as he opened the bottle and took a few gulps, letting the liqueur smooth its way down his throat.

"Thankyou anyway" Elizabeth told him, smiling at him.

She attempted to dab her leg with the cloth, but on nearing the gash, she wussed out and had to take a few deep breaths before attempting it again.

Norrington rolled his eyes. "Christ woman. Give it here"

He took the cloth from her hands and began to dab the wound for her, finding it utterly astonishing how much Elizabeth found his company more comfortable now than she ever did when she was his fiancee.

Jack looked on indignantly.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*


The cool sea breeze began to set in. Twighlight was the best time of day for Jack. He had time to think; time to relive past adventures, think about his next ones...think about anything but what would happen when there was nothing left.

Because when there was nothing left, there was nothing there. And to be a Pirate there had to be something there or there would be no means of Piracy to get the thing that was there because there would be nothing left there to get.

*You think too much, mate* He noted to himself, taking a large swig of rum.

Davy Jones? Bah, whatever happened would happen.

The Black Pearl? Well...it was his home...his life...his pirates life...

Life here-on-in? Bugger to it all...if he died he knew he'd had a decent life for a pirate anyway..most didnt live after the age of 30.

The wind had coaxed the sails into full bloom. He wasn't too sure where they were heading, but he knew they were going somewhere. Probably wherever bloody Elizabeth took them. IF she actually used the compass once in a while.

With that thought, he travelled down the stairs and away from the helm, walking towards her majesty; and her jester sleeping soundly *And in a drunken state too, if i am not mistaken* beside her.

She seemed to be sleeping peacefully. She certainly had no recollection of him looking at her. Them pouty lips that shot so much venom at him, that boody mens costume he had TOLD her to take off (For his own sake more than hers) and that stupid hair that looked more ridiculous than his...sometimes.

He shoved her.

"What-"

"Oi, Elizabeth" Came his voice from his own mouth, sounding rougher than he intended.

She seemed dazed for a minute, but then her eyes settled on him as he came into her focus. "Oh...its you"

"'Ello Luv. I need a hand if you will...need a direction to steer in you see, and seems as though you seem to know where is best to point this bloody boat...I hoped you might want to hold my compass for a minute or two?" Jack's voice was a whisper now, although half of what he said seemed to be unheard over Norrington's snoring.

Elizabeth, still a little dazed only heard half of the conversation. One which stated;

"Luv, i need a hand...you seem to know to hold my compass"

"Jack sparrow!" She shouted, startling a few of the crew. "How dare you even assume that I would even consider thinking about something like that! You are out of your-"

He clasped his hand over her mouth, and then put the compass into her hand. Then it dauned on her...and she felt very embarrassed.

"Sorry" she said through his hand. He shrugged, he'd been called worse.

She lifted the compass and opened it. Jack pulled back and stood above her, looking in the direction the needle was pointing at. It seemed to be pointing west...which was exactly where he was standing...so therefore the chest must be west of where they were heading.

"Cheers" He told her, before he was off again to turn the boat around.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes at his retreating back. She then looked back down at the compass, to find it swivelling again. She sighed. Nothing of Jack's worked. He was a time bomb of disaster.

She kept the Compass open in her lap...not even noticing the needle swivell in a North-Easterly direction...the whereabouts of someone that was not William Turner.


TBC ...