Large, messy, blazing bonfire; Elizabeth and Jack drunken dancing around the fire with a nearly empty bottle of rum each. Collapse next to each other after a spinning, rousing rendition of "A Pirate's Life For Me".

Jack: takes a swig, leans back on his elbows and looks at Elizabeth

And you're a strange one, you know that Miss Crow?

Elizabeth: leans back to get him in focus

You're a little peculiar yourself, Captain Sparrow!

J waves his hand in front of his face as if to wave the comment away, but it turns into waving and slapping at mosquitoes.

E: Jack?

J: distracted from his impromptu pesky pursuit, remembers he was about to attempt a wooing.

You know the pirate ways, the songs, you even know the bleeding code, and you can drink like a fishshh, but you're... like... (a little lecherous) a woman savvy? (more respectful, but not much) a lady, oo is a woman, and a very... ferry... fine one at that, wiv a great pair of... (struggles to think of a pair of something that aren't breasts and fails miserably)... breashts...

E: looks suitably shocked

Mister Sparrow!! I hardly think that this is language befitting a lady...

J: EYES sweet Elizabuff, sharp and keen and... soft (his gaze, and a hand has wandered towards her chest again; E pulls a cynical expression as she crosses her arms over her chest; in a remarkably quick recovery J makes an expansive gesture to the horizon)... fixed on the horizon, and wiv a mind, and a tongue, just as sharp in your 'ead, the very survival of a crew and their ship could be entrusted to you, nay, you'd be what is known as "a force to be reckoned wiv", I reckon.

E has melted a little closer with each dubious compliment, and J has finally cottoned on that he is on the right track.

E: Do you think, Jack?

J: Aye, and you know what? (he gestures her closer, then says, very genuinely) I would not be surprised if you had got a bit o' pirate in you.

E: Thawed, and excited at the thought of illicit pirate heritage, and totally missing the double entendre, while J struggles not to offer to be that bit of pirate. E grasps his shirt front

Do you really think I have what it takes, Jack?

J: Well, it might be the rum talking, and it shouldn't really be for me to say... (he carefully watches the expression on her face change as her new found career begins to burn at the edges, then he leans forward and takes her by the shoulders)... I fink you'd make a finer pirate queen than old Bluebeard! (Neither question this comment. J does not let go and E does not struggle. He looks straight into her eyes) The Black Pearl would be an envied ship to have your mind and tongue working on her, and every man who knew you and knew of you would be fighting the very horizon, just so your eyes might see him, an' that your gentle graces might fall on him for a while.

They have moved closer, eyes locked together; he sees her eyes flick down to his mouth, and back up again, and takes this as his cue. He cannot wait any longer. Quick as a flash, he pushes her back to the sand and on top of her, keeps her legs apart with his and crushes his long hard erection, still in his trousers, against her crotch. His hands hold hers above her head, pressed into the sand.

E: Please Jack! What are you doing?!

J: Ah, Jack's sweet, delicious Miss Elizabeth. You must understand something here little lassy. When I wants something, I usually takes it. Being a pirate an' all, that works pretty good for me savvy? Gold, jewels, women... (on this word he presses his cock against her harder, and watches as she closes her eyes and bites her lip in apparent pleasure)... now this is interesting. Could it be that the poor little Governors daughter has gotten a taste for the rough stuff? Maybe the rum, salty air, and salty company has growed on you Elizabeth?

E: She looks back at him defiantly, then rolls her hips against him sending a wave of pleasure through them both.

I thought you were going to talk all night. (He looks at her as if he has been slapped). You see, you must understand something also, Mister Pirate Captain Jack Sparrow. Being a Governors' daughter means being surrounded by weak willed, groveling, sniveling boys who would not wipe their own arses without written permission from my father. Some girls actually like this; they pick one, and live happily ever after. The only living I have ever wanted to do is live from moment to moment, and, if you savvy me, Captain, I think you have wasted quite enough of this fine evening with your attempts at seduction... (he finally kisses her, long and hard, and she kisses him back passionately, his hands feels her face, bury themselves in her long hair, but as he begins to kiss her neck and chest)... Did I ask you to let my hands go, Jack?

He leans up, looks incredulously from her pouty expression to her freed hands still above her head in the sand, and back again, then gets pissed off, mutters "Right, bloody... demanding..." under his breath as he pulls a length of cord from his pocket and proceeds to swiftly and unceremoniously bind her wrists together, pass the loose end under the root of a tree and put the end of the rope in her hands.

J: An' if you let go, it'll be your own bleedin' fault. SAVVY? (Now crouched over her, his blood pumping from the exertions of tying her up, and in general, pretty goddamn annoyed with her, his face takes on a lecherous glare as he realises what she thinks she wants, and what he wants to do are remarkably similar).

As she struggles with the bonds, which are much tighter than she was expecting, he pulls a wicked looking blade from his boot, curved to a slightly hooked point, and deadly sharp. They both watch the reflection of the fire gleam along its razor sharp edge.