Daniel leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching Evelyn and Elizabeth turn slowly in front of the mirror.
"I don't understand this," he said honestly. "We're about to head into something exciting, and you're both busy trying on dresses."
Evelyn smoothed the fabric at her waist, glancing at him. "We bought them yesterday. Of course we're trying them on."
She turned once more, a little self-conscious, a little pleased. "And for your information, this is my first time wearing something like this. I'm not wasting the chance."
Daniel sighed, defeated. "Right. Dresses first. Adventure later."
Elizabeth looked up at him then, curiosity bright in her eyes. "So," she asked, "where are we going this time?"
The last adventure had ended with undead pirates and cursed ships. She wasn't sure whether to be excited or cautious—but she was definitely curious.
Daniel smiled—the kind that never meant anything simple.
"We're going to a mysterious place called the Fountain of Youth."
"The Fountain of Youth?" Evelyn repeated, clearly caught off guard. "That sounds like a bedtime legend, not a destination."
"It is a legend," Daniel said easily. "One of the more stubborn ones this world refuses to let die."
Elizabeth's eyes lit up with curiosity. "And that's really a place?"
"Very real," Daniel replied. "Very dangerous."
He paused, then added casually, as if mentioning the weather, "And while we're at it, we're going to interfere with a certain magical ship—the Flying Dutchman."
***
Then he took them to the Black Pearl.
As for the East India Company ships patrolling near Port Royal's shore—Daniel didn't bother sneaking past them.
He simply stepped back, bent his knees, and jumped.
The world blurred. Wind roared. And in a single, impossible arc, he cleared the distance and landed cleanly on the Pearl's deck, boots thudding against the planks as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Elizabeth stared over the rail, gripping it for balance. "You know," she said slowly, "most people use boats for that."
Daniel glanced back with a shrug. "Where's the fun in that?"
Jack, leaning against the rail with his usual crooked posture, gave a slow, appreciative nod. "Well, well, my friend you have good taste " said Jack looking at Evelyn.
Daniel turned slightly toward Evelyn. "Evy, this is Jack," he said casually. "You can think of him as a professional scammer, an expert escape artist, and a man with a rare talent for turning his problems into everyone else's responsibility."
Jack placed a hand over his heart, deeply offended. "That," he said, "is the most unfair and hurtful description I've ever heard."
He paused, then added, "Also… not wrong."
Elizabeth hid a smile as Jack tipped his hat toward Evelyn. "Captain Jack Sparrow," he introduced himself proudly. "Emphasis on Captain. And before you ask—yes, whatever trouble you're imagining, I'm already in it."
The Black Pearl eased into Tortuga with a familiar creak of wood and rope, the port already alive with noise, music, and the smell of rum.
Will Turner sat on a barrel near the dock, arms crossed, jaw tight. He looked like a man who had replayed the same argument in his head at least a hundred times—and lost patience somewhere around the fiftieth.
The moment he spotted Jack, his expression darkened.
Jack brightened instead.
"Well now," Jack said cheerfully, hopping down to the dock, "if it isn't William Turner. Enjoying your holiday, were you?"
Will stood up slowly. "Jack. It's been four days."
Jack tilted his head. "Four? Is that all? Felt longer."
"You were supposed to pick me up three days ago," Will snapped. "What were you doing this entire time?"
Jack spread his hands. "Oh, this and that. Narrow escapes. Certain death. Cultural misunderstandings involving fire. You know—errands."
Will stared at him. "You forgot."
"I did not forget," Jack said quickly. "I… postponed. Strategically."
Daniel stepped off the gangplank, watching the exchange with mild amusement.
"For what it's worth," he added, "you were discussed. Briefly."
"Daniel?" Will frowned. "When did you get back?"
Not long after, the captain's cabin of the Black Pearl was crowded: Jack leaning against the table, Gibbs hovering nearby, Will standing stiffly, and Elizabeth and Evelyn side by side. Two empty rum bottles sat on the table between them.
Daniel tapped the first bottle with a finger.
"This," he said calmly, "is Davy Jones—captain of the Flying Dutchman. He currently owns Jack's soul. Now, Jack did break his oath, so yes, some of this is Jack's fault." He glanced sideways. "But Jones has committed more than enough sins of his own to justify replacement."
Jack raised a hand. "I object to being summarized as 'some of this.'"
Daniel ignored him and tapped the second bottle.
"And this is Cutler Beckett. Ambitious. Ruthless. The sort of man who smiles while tightening a noose. He's a problem now—and a much bigger one later. I intend to deal with him in a way he never sees coming."
He leaned back, folding his arms. "But first, we solve the Davy Jones problem."
Jack's eyes narrowed. "And how, precisely, do you plan on doing that?"
Daniel smiled and pointed across the table.
"By giving the Flying Dutchman a new captain."
Silence.
Then—
Jack shook his head, making it very clear he wasn't doing that.
Daniel nodded. "Well, it's not you, Jack. No need to worry."
He turned fully to Will and pointed.
"It's him."
"Me?" Will pointing at himself, genuinely stunned. Why would he become captain of the Flying Dutchman?
"Because there's something you should know about. Among the crew bound to the Dutchman… your father is there."
Will went still.
"The curse that ties them to the ship," Daniel continued, "caught him as well. He's not dead—not truly. Just trapped, like the rest."
Will's breath caught, his mind racing. "My father… on that ship?"
"Um… may I ask why you're doing this?" Gibbs asked.
"Of course," Daniel said with a smile. "To screw them over."
*****
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